Humbling experiences

A few humorous/embarrassing moments:

There’s a public toilet in Monaco close to the bus stop on the pier. I decided to avail myself of it before we began the trek up the hill to Monaco-Ville. I deposited my .30 euro and opened the door to the unisex facility noticing it was a hole-in-the-floor model -- my first. Then the door closed and I was in darkness. I guess the light was out. I tried the door handle but it was locked. I started groping along the walls feeling for a light switch. My eyes began to adjust to the dark and I could make out, with the help of a little light coming in along the floor a big red button next to the door. Pushing it unlocked the door. I opened it and used the light to size up the situation. The toilet was modern and clean and there was a horseshoe shaped bar that could be used as a toilet seat recessed into the wall that could be lowered by pressing a button and pulling the seat down. The sign also claimed the seat would raise automatically. When I felt secure enough in my surroundings I closed the door, lowered the bar, perched on the edge (it was high and I feared the seat would automatically snap back to it’s original position) and went about my business. Unfortunately, sitting so far forward, I was only in the general vicinity of the hole and let me tell you, there’s quite a splatter range when piss hits stainless from a height of about 2 ½ feet. I’m just glad I was wearing capris.

Yesterday on our sojourn back from Gordes we took a wrong turn in one of the little towns. When we were circling around to try again, a woman jumped out of the car in front of us leaving the door open with a child inside. She ran straight to Dan’s window and started asking for directions in French. We couldn’t manage a sound. All we could do was stare stupidly with our mouths open and shoulders hunched. It took her a split second to realize she’d picked idiots to ask and ran to the car behind us. As we drove away I realized I had a map open in my lap.

There’s a small circus going on in the park behind our hotel. We were walking by the motor homes where the circus folk live the other night on our way back from dinner and some of them were hanging out in what appears to be a communal outdoor gathering spot. They mocked us (I think it was just Dan really). Let me tell ya, there’s nothing quite as degrading as being mocked by a French carny.

Dan stepped in dog shit. It was bound to happen. He was walking down the drive here when a car came along and he quickly stepped over into the median to get out of the way. That’s where he hit it. It wasn’t so much the stepping in the crap that was funny so much as the little shitslip/slide to the side. Some people here do clean up after their dogs but they leave the bags-o-crap laying on the sidewalk. I guess they have shit pixies here that come by and pick them up.

Gordes

Our trip to Gordes in Provence was our longest car trip. It took about 2 ½ hours to get there driven mostly on the A8. This is similar to our interstates only it’s a toll road. When you’re traveling that far, the tolls really add up. I think the highest one we paid was 12.70 euro.

There was parking just on top of the hill so we didn’t have to climb into the town. We ate lunch at the café featured in the movie “A Good Year” and we photographed where various scenes were shot. The town is quite picturesque and we roamed around the very steep streets for a couple of hours. We had an ice cream and decided to go to see the bories which are dry stone huts -- some built centuries ago. We discovered there was one right in our car park so just photographed it instead of going to the historic borie village (saving us some euros). They all look pretty much the same.

We decided to drive back to Monaco on the N7 which is like our state highways and have no tolls. It was a much more enjoyable, if quite a bit longer drive. The highway was lined with old sycamores and vineyards most of the way. We passed a large field of purple iris. We went through town after town, all with a number of roundabouts. They were landscaped, some quite elaborately. Dan merrily pirouetted his way across Provence. He then drove on the Bord de Mer (the coastal highway) from St. Raphael to Cannes. This road was slow going, even though we seemed to be speeding along, with lots of hairpin curves along the sides of mountains with nothing but the Mediterranean below. We decided to get back onto the A8 at Cannes as the sun was beginning to set and a fog was rolling in off the water. Plus, I was getting nauseous. The trip back took about 5 hours.

Top photo is from the drive on the N7 showing the sycamores and the bottom is the town of Gordes from a flanking hill.

Street singer in Antibes

We climbed up to the old part of the town (Monaco-Ville) where the Palais Princier, Musee Oceanographique, cathedral and tourist shops. We toured the palace where the royal family still resides. The part on the tour is opulent and includes the throne room where, among others, there is a huge portrait of Prince Rainier, Princess Grace and their children. The tombs of the past princes are in the cathedral. Flowers are left on Prince Ranier’s and Princess Grace’s -- mostly roses on her's.
We got a couple of sandwiches and sat on a bench across from a low wall overlooking the Mediterranean. There are large gulls here, or maybe they’re albatross’ and one landed on the wall next to a couple across from us that were also enjoying a picnic. They were sitting on the wall with their food spread out between them. The gullatross sat on the wall behind the woman for a little while until shooed away. He then landed just on the other side of the wall so that his head and neck were all that was visible sticking up just behind their food. I half expected him to say, “Mine!” like the stupid gulls in Finding Nemo. I was hoping the couple would look away so that I could see him steal some of their lunch but it didn’t happen. He really was a pretty bird. His head was snow white and there was a red half circle on his lower beak.

The next day we drove to Antibes, a town on the Riviera with a huge port where large yachts and a multitude or sailboats are docked. There was a fabulous food market set up in the main square. We wandered around cobblestone shop-lined streets and came upon a lady singing in the style of Edith Piaf. She accompanied herself on guitar and a tamborine she worked with a foot pedal. She was singing “La Vie en Rose” as we walked up but by the time we thought to video her, she was singing a song I’m not familiar with and not even sure if it’s French. Of course, when we got about half a block away, I heard her start the song from the movie that Edith Piaf used for her comeback.

We had lunch then walked along the piers ogling the boats. The largest yacht had its own helicopter complete with a custom cover.

The top picture is the market in Antibes and the bottom is the seaside view of the Musee Oceanographique in Monaco.

Glassmaker Pascal Guyot

Grasse and Biot

Grasse is about an hour drive from Monaco. We hit the public WC and were engulfed by a student protest march as soon as we got back on the street. The French sure know how to put on a march. Apparently they love bringing everything to a standstill without accomplishing a damn thing. This is according to Phillipe, the chef and owner of a restaurant in Paris that Rick Steves recommended. We were his first customers of the evening so we had the place and him to ourselves. While we were perusing the menu, I notice him take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and pour about four fingers over rocks then place the glass over the bar into his kitchen workspace. As soon as he served us he went into the kitchen then reappeared with a plate of steak tartare and mashed potatoes and proceeded to sit down to eat and converse with us. He lived in Philadelphia for 3 years where he owned a French takeout place. He’d been back in Paris for about 7 years. He was very funny and I was sure he was gay but then this beautiful child glided in and gave him the 3 cheek kiss saying, “Bonjour Papa.” She was probably 11 or 12 with braces but just absolutely gorgeous. It seems French girls do not have an ugly stage. I heard her talking to Phillipe in the kitchen and repeating, “What are you doing?” in English. They then walked out and asked us how we say, “What are you doing?” which word to accent. We were a little confused as to what they were asking but then I threw my hand out in front of me and said, “What’re ya doin?” The child said “Oui, that’s eet!” and proceeded to mimick it perfectly over and over. It was for her English class apparently. She then left us, going to their home above the restaurant. But … I digress.
Grasse is the perfume capital of France. We had a coffee in the square next to the fountain and did some window shopping before going to the Fraconard museum and perfume factory. I was so impressed, I bought perfume … and I seldom wear perfume. We went back to the square, had lunch, and wandered the narrow streets a little more before getting back on the road headed for Biot.
Biot is known for it’s glassmaking and ceramics. We parked at the foot of the hill and proceeded to scale the side to the top where the old village is. Like on the Eifel Tower, I had to stop a few times. But was it ever worth it! At the top were these very narrow passages with doorways that were framed in potted flowers and vines. The stuff of every romantic picture I had in my head of one of these hilltop villages. There were old public sinks that still were in use. When we got to the square the first shop we saw was Verrerie du Village with creations by Pascal Guyot. The shop was situated at the juncture of two streets, one higher than the other. On the upper street you could look through an open window down into the glassblowing shop. On the lower street you were on the same level as the glassblowers. I could have watched all day except it was really hot because of the furnace. I bought a necklace in the shop. We wandered around, had a beer and decided Biot was our favorite place since leaving Paris.

The first picture is one of the passages in Biot. The second is the fountain in Grasse.

On Sunday we flew Air France from Paris’ Orly airport to Nice. The Orly terminal was confusing. It was a huge round space with ticket agents lining the sides, electronic self check-in in the center and security screening just beyond. On the other side of security were the gates making up the other half of the circle. A ticket agent checked us in at a self serve kiosk then pointed us to where to check in our luggage. They have a 32 kilo limit on bags (our heaviest was 17). The baggage agent told us to go through security at 10:30 for our 11:00 flight. We thought we’d misunderstood but we had plenty of time before our flight so we walked around the attached shopping for a while. When we got back security had cleared out so we went through. One of the screeners remarked that we were early so apparently they prefer to have a huge crush of people all at once.

We picked up our rental car at the airport and hit the road. Fontvielle was about a 30 minute drive. We got lost finding the resort but not for long and fortunately it was Sunday so there wasn’t much traffic. This place is practically right on the pier. In fact, you drive right on the dock to get to the parking garage. A bunch of little Italian kids followed us on their skateboards. One little guy jumped in front of our car and put his hand up for us to stop at a speed bumb so they could skateboard over it. I thought they were pretty cute. Dan’s had it with Italians.

We got settled in and mercifully spread out in our unit then went to an English pub that the receptionist suggested. It was cold and rainy but warm and snug in the small pub where we watched Manchester City play Portsmouth with Italians, French, English and Scots.

On Monday we tackled the supermarket. Note: Don’t go to a supermarket on Monday morning in France. Most are closed on Sunday so along with a whole lot of customers, they were restocking. I spent a good part of the day doing laundry and found out how ventless dryers work. I want one. It was kinda nice relaxing and just doing domestic stuff like laundry and cooking.

The picture at the top is the view just off our balcony.