Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Our day began with a half-decent breakfast around the table chatting with a couple from Australia over one too many cups of rich Italian coffee. We headed up the hill to Orvieto, found the heavily frescoed Duomo and purchased tickets for an underground tour of the caverns. Every third step one takes here is above one of 1200 caves or caverns dating from Etruscan and medieval times that honeycomb this city. We saw the remains of an old olive press where blindfolded donkeys walked in circles turning a heavy stone wheel, deep Etruscan well shafts, quarries, and most interesting to us, rooms of rows of small square cubicles carved into the soft rock where pigeons were raised for their eggs, their meat, and for sale. Now we truly understand the term "pigeon-holed".
Assisi was our next destination. While we did arrive at the agritourismo where we were headed, (www.incampagna.com) I think we covered a lot more kilometres than we needed to. We need a more detailed map than the one we have. Once again, it was one of those "Whatever have I done?" moments as we drove further and further, higher and higher along narrow country roads in the hills above Assisi. Ruurd, our Dutch host, was here to greet us and show us around his home, parts of which date from the 1500's! The vistas from this house are amazing. We sat under the pergola watching a shepherd with his flock and his dogs in the field below. From our room's window, we can see for miles over Assisi and a wide expanse of valley. Right now, at dusk, we can hear frogs croaking, see the twinkling lights of the city below, and smell the freshness of the air after this afternoon's rain. The Basilica of St. Francis is fully lit and it looks as if it's glowing. Peace. When I asked Ruurd this afternoon what made he and Letizia choose to live here, he just smiled, waved his hand over the view and said exactly that. Peace.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
The Hill Towns of Tuscany and Civita di Bagnoregio
July 26, 2010
The Hill Towns of Tuscany and Sunset at Civita di Bagnoregio
After our farmhouse breakfast, we, that is, Elaine, decided that we needed to sit in an outdoor cafe in the main square of Siena and people-watch for awhile. I had a mocchaccino that I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed. Touring the Duomo, with Rick Steves in hand, was worth every cent of the admission charge. The Italian architecture is quite different from the French and it reminded us of the Duomo in Florence that we saw 36 years ago and will see again in a few days.
We headed south along the back roads to tour the hill towns of Tuscany. Without exaggeration, I probably took 50 pictures of landscapes along the way. The road had several pull- out spots where others had obviously felt compelled to do the same. Rolling hills, patchwork-quilt fields of wheat, grapevines, sunflowers, and olive groves punctuated by rows of cypress trees lining the skyline provided one OMG after another.
First stop: Montalcino, famous for Brunella of Montalcino vino rosso. We wandered through this village, set high on a hilltop with a commanding view of the countryside and had a focaccia panini in a little enoteca, complete with a glass of lovely red before heading to the next stop: Montepulciano, whose red wine we had previously sampled at home.
Then we headed further south to Orvieto, our destination for the night. I always feel a little nervous just before arriving at our accommodation. Did I pick a good one? Is it going to be a dive? So far we have had fabulous rooms every single night. And this one is no exception. Situated right smack at the base of the escarpment of the walled city of Orvieto, it is a B&B tucked in an olive grove with a colourful garden and a pergola draped in lush grapevines. Our room is scrupulously clean and can only be described as cute. It has a fresh white coverlet on the (unusually) comfortable bed, country style furnishings, decals of cats at the base of the walls, a colourful wooden parrot on a perch over the bed and a large bathroom. We have a wrought iron table and chairs set on a stone patio surrounded by flowers and hand-painted stones.
We were anxious to see the nearby town of Civita di Bagnoregio, which, according to Rick Steves, is Italy's ultimate hill town (www.civitadibagnoregio.it). It dates from Etruscan and ancient Roman times and has a distinctly medieval feel to it. Perched on a hill of soft rock that has eroded over time, it is connected to the rest of the world by a
pedestrian bridge. We read that only fourteen people, all elderly, still live here but it appeared to us that there were several recently renovated (and likely very pricey) apartments. Wandering through this ancient town as the sun was setting and imagining day- to- day life in medieval times was a memory we will hold on to.
Also not to be forgotten was my moment of panic a few hours later in Orvieto. After dining in a trattoria on a cobblestone street, we went to find the access to our car in the parking lot. Locked. Closed at 21:00. It's 21:30. Our car is about four levels underground in this city of caverns and we have no idea whatsoever how to get down to it. It's dark. The flashlight that we were given at the B&B is, you guessed it, in the car. Good thing Italians are friendly and helpful. A desk clerk from a nearby hotel helped us out and we were on our way "home".
Enough experiences for this girl for one day.
The Hill Towns of Tuscany and Sunset at Civita di Bagnoregio
After our farmhouse breakfast, we, that is, Elaine, decided that we needed to sit in an outdoor cafe in the main square of Siena and people-watch for awhile. I had a mocchaccino that I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed. Touring the Duomo, with Rick Steves in hand, was worth every cent of the admission charge. The Italian architecture is quite different from the French and it reminded us of the Duomo in Florence that we saw 36 years ago and will see again in a few days.
We headed south along the back roads to tour the hill towns of Tuscany. Without exaggeration, I probably took 50 pictures of landscapes along the way. The road had several pull- out spots where others had obviously felt compelled to do the same. Rolling hills, patchwork-quilt fields of wheat, grapevines, sunflowers, and olive groves punctuated by rows of cypress trees lining the skyline provided one OMG after another.
First stop: Montalcino, famous for Brunella of Montalcino vino rosso. We wandered through this village, set high on a hilltop with a commanding view of the countryside and had a focaccia panini in a little enoteca, complete with a glass of lovely red before heading to the next stop: Montepulciano, whose red wine we had previously sampled at home.
Then we headed further south to Orvieto, our destination for the night. I always feel a little nervous just before arriving at our accommodation. Did I pick a good one? Is it going to be a dive? So far we have had fabulous rooms every single night. And this one is no exception. Situated right smack at the base of the escarpment of the walled city of Orvieto, it is a B&B tucked in an olive grove with a colourful garden and a pergola draped in lush grapevines. Our room is scrupulously clean and can only be described as cute. It has a fresh white coverlet on the (unusually) comfortable bed, country style furnishings, decals of cats at the base of the walls, a colourful wooden parrot on a perch over the bed and a large bathroom. We have a wrought iron table and chairs set on a stone patio surrounded by flowers and hand-painted stones.
We were anxious to see the nearby town of Civita di Bagnoregio, which, according to Rick Steves, is Italy's ultimate hill town (www.civitadibagnoregio.it). It dates from Etruscan and ancient Roman times and has a distinctly medieval feel to it. Perched on a hill of soft rock that has eroded over time, it is connected to the rest of the world by a
pedestrian bridge. We read that only fourteen people, all elderly, still live here but it appeared to us that there were several recently renovated (and likely very pricey) apartments. Wandering through this ancient town as the sun was setting and imagining day- to- day life in medieval times was a memory we will hold on to.
Also not to be forgotten was my moment of panic a few hours later in Orvieto. After dining in a trattoria on a cobblestone street, we went to find the access to our car in the parking lot. Locked. Closed at 21:00. It's 21:30. Our car is about four levels underground in this city of caverns and we have no idea whatsoever how to get down to it. It's dark. The flashlight that we were given at the B&B is, you guessed it, in the car. Good thing Italians are friendly and helpful. A desk clerk from a nearby hotel helped us out and we were on our way "home".
Enough experiences for this girl for one day.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Living my Dream!
What woman hasn't dreamed of sleeping in a Tuscan farmhouse overlooking patchwork fields and vineyards? This agritourismo is everything I had hoped it would be. Last night we slept with the little window wide open and a full moon shining on the surrounding hills. Our room has a stone floor and wood ceiling beams, a wrought iron bed with a white crocheted spread. Beautiful. We have just finished breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen--big long wooden table around which all the guests gather--coffee, banana milkshake, granola, fruit, yogurt, hoemade cake, homemade bread, jams, jellies --you get the picture. Off to explore Siena and head south today.
Lost in Lucca, Peeked at Pisa, and Sleeping in Siena OR Under the Tuscan Sun
July 25, 2010
Happy 92nd Birthday, Mom
Now THIS is what I came to Italy for! We are here at Agritourismo Marciano, in the hills just outside Siena.
Highlights of our day:
Hearing the Sicilian pastry chef trying to entice us to try one of his fresh pastries with our cappuccinos this morning as we waited for the shuttle bus to take us from Vernazza up to our car. We relented. I chose a nutella twist. It literally melted in our mouths.
Surviving the narrow twisting road through the hillsides above the Cinque Terre to the highway. It was Sunday and luckily there were few cars on the road.
Getting lost in the walled city of Lucca and not caring if we saw the city's landmarks.
Leaving the leaning tower of Pisa without posing as if we were holding it up.
Having a fabulous lunch in San Gimignano in a piazza with a 13th century well. Walking to the top of the town to see the amazing view of the Tuscan countryside.
Feeling grateful for Rick and Karen. Not the Melsons. Rick Steves who guides us through each town, tells us interesting facts and leads us to great restaurants and places to stay, and Karen, our GPS, who sometimes has to put up with our abuse when we yell at her or call her an idiot, but who usually gets us where we need to be.
Feeling very grateful that Denis can figure out where we are and how to get back to where we need to be. Uncanny actually.
Walking into Il Campo, the main piazza in Siena for the first time. Having a rustic soup in a little restaurant. Watching the flag bearers perform in the piazza. Seeing the light on the buildings as the sun was setting. Coming back here to see the full moon over the vineyards. Looking forward to having breakfast here in the morning and sipping coffee in Siena later on.
Life is good, or as Den remarked, "That wraps up another full day."
Happy 92nd Birthday, Mom
Now THIS is what I came to Italy for! We are here at Agritourismo Marciano, in the hills just outside Siena.
Highlights of our day:
Hearing the Sicilian pastry chef trying to entice us to try one of his fresh pastries with our cappuccinos this morning as we waited for the shuttle bus to take us from Vernazza up to our car. We relented. I chose a nutella twist. It literally melted in our mouths.
Surviving the narrow twisting road through the hillsides above the Cinque Terre to the highway. It was Sunday and luckily there were few cars on the road.
Getting lost in the walled city of Lucca and not caring if we saw the city's landmarks.
Leaving the leaning tower of Pisa without posing as if we were holding it up.
Having a fabulous lunch in San Gimignano in a piazza with a 13th century well. Walking to the top of the town to see the amazing view of the Tuscan countryside.
Feeling grateful for Rick and Karen. Not the Melsons. Rick Steves who guides us through each town, tells us interesting facts and leads us to great restaurants and places to stay, and Karen, our GPS, who sometimes has to put up with our abuse when we yell at her or call her an idiot, but who usually gets us where we need to be.
Feeling very grateful that Denis can figure out where we are and how to get back to where we need to be. Uncanny actually.
Walking into Il Campo, the main piazza in Siena for the first time. Having a rustic soup in a little restaurant. Watching the flag bearers perform in the piazza. Seeing the light on the buildings as the sun was setting. Coming back here to see the full moon over the vineyards. Looking forward to having breakfast here in the morning and sipping coffee in Siena later on.
Life is good, or as Den remarked, "That wraps up another full day."
the Lazy Life of Vernazza and the Soup Nazi
July 24, 2010
Happy 6th Anniversary, Andrea and Trevor!
Today we experienced the "vita pigra de Vernazza"--the lazy life of Vernazza. We decided to stay here and explore this little town.
Vernazza's main street is a series of small shops: enotecas, pizzarias, gelaterias, focaccerias, a bakery, a couple of small grocery stores and a lot of small cafes, bars, and restaurants. The main activity seems to be passeggiata, walking slowly along, watching the passers-by. We climbed a lot of stairs to visit the castle and the tower where medieval villagers kept an eye out for pirates and we hiked up to the church. Big waves in the harbour meant that parts of the swimming area were roped off and we found the swarms of tourists particularly annoying, so we picked up some grapes, focaccia crackers, and local wine and headed back up to our retreat on the hillside. I discovered that the hammock slung between the lemon trees and the grapevines was a lovely spot to enjoy the sunshine, the view, and my book.
Giuliano told us that four nights is best here to really get the feel for Vernazza, and he may be right. We have become more relaxed as the days have passed, and our initial annoyance at the high priced lunch on our first day here is long gone. At the same time, we are looking forward to moving on and discovering more of Italy.
Best moments of the day:
Denis calling the grumpy pizza man the Soup Nazi.
Relaxing in the hammock and hearing the breeze rustling through the lemon trees and the grapevines.
Happy 6th Anniversary, Andrea and Trevor!
Today we experienced the "vita pigra de Vernazza"--the lazy life of Vernazza. We decided to stay here and explore this little town.
Vernazza's main street is a series of small shops: enotecas, pizzarias, gelaterias, focaccerias, a bakery, a couple of small grocery stores and a lot of small cafes, bars, and restaurants. The main activity seems to be passeggiata, walking slowly along, watching the passers-by. We climbed a lot of stairs to visit the castle and the tower where medieval villagers kept an eye out for pirates and we hiked up to the church. Big waves in the harbour meant that parts of the swimming area were roped off and we found the swarms of tourists particularly annoying, so we picked up some grapes, focaccia crackers, and local wine and headed back up to our retreat on the hillside. I discovered that the hammock slung between the lemon trees and the grapevines was a lovely spot to enjoy the sunshine, the view, and my book.
Giuliano told us that four nights is best here to really get the feel for Vernazza, and he may be right. We have become more relaxed as the days have passed, and our initial annoyance at the high priced lunch on our first day here is long gone. At the same time, we are looking forward to moving on and discovering more of Italy.
Best moments of the day:
Denis calling the grumpy pizza man the Soup Nazi.
Relaxing in the hammock and hearing the breeze rustling through the lemon trees and the grapevines.
First day in Vernazza on the Cinque Terre
Levanto to Vernazza
Left the Garden Hotel in Levanto mid morning to drive the short distance to Vernazza, one of the towns on the Cinque Terre. The road here was very narrow, mostly single lane, and twisty with hairpin turns, steep cliffs and breathtaking views of tiny villages and the ocean below. As the Cinque Terre is a national park, it is off limits to cars. We parked in the lot above Vernazza and were shuttled down by bus to the village. Here we easily followed our email directions to ask for Guiliano in the first enoteca (wine bar) on the left. He happened to be right outside on the street and took us up to our camere, our room for the next three nights.
He has built four rooms on the side of the mountain. It is hard to describe. Three are joined and share patio areas, in and amongst his gardens. We have access to a shared kitchen where we have our own shelf in the frig, coffee and tea, dishes, and beach towels. We are above the town and have a view of the town and the harbour.
The town clock chimes every half hour and the train whizzes through every 20 minutes or so.
We strolled through the town, which is really just one street and then chose a restaurant for lunch on the main square, for the first time without looking at the menu before sitting down. Big mistake. We ended up paying 45 euros for a caprese salad, some cheese croquettes, a small seafood salad, one beer, and water. We were charged 6 euros for the basket of bread that was plopped down on our table with the beverages--we have never been charged for bread before in either Italy or France. Feeling ripped off was not a good way to start our visit here. We spent the afternoon on the breakwater in the sunshine, swimming in the deep water to cool off. We found a grocery store, bought supplies for breakfast, ordered a pizza and had dinner on our patio. Much cheaper.
The Cinque Terre was one of our destinations that we were most excited about. I felt really fortunate to have been able to reserve this spot--the #1 rated accommodation on tripadvisor in the "jewel" of these five towns, according to Rick Steves. The town is a photographer's dream. The buildings are all soft colours, mostly peach or yellow with green shutters and they tumble down the cliff toward the sea. Laundry hangs from windows. The hills around the town are terraced for small gardens and tiny vineyards. The town clock dominates the scene but there is evidence of ancient stone remains all over. However, it is absolutely crawling with tourists. The streets are jam-packed and the prices are high. We had expected a quiet little out-of-the-way spot where we could relax, hike, swim, and enjoy the small villages. Not so. We are feeling quite disappointed. Perhaps it is just the heat that is getting to us. We have been in this heat wave since arriving in Europe. A cool rainy day would be a nice change right now!
We have planned our itinerary for tomorrow. I have a massage appointment early in the morning after which we are going to see all five villages by either boat, trail, or train.
Left the Garden Hotel in Levanto mid morning to drive the short distance to Vernazza, one of the towns on the Cinque Terre. The road here was very narrow, mostly single lane, and twisty with hairpin turns, steep cliffs and breathtaking views of tiny villages and the ocean below. As the Cinque Terre is a national park, it is off limits to cars. We parked in the lot above Vernazza and were shuttled down by bus to the village. Here we easily followed our email directions to ask for Guiliano in the first enoteca (wine bar) on the left. He happened to be right outside on the street and took us up to our camere, our room for the next three nights.
He has built four rooms on the side of the mountain. It is hard to describe. Three are joined and share patio areas, in and amongst his gardens. We have access to a shared kitchen where we have our own shelf in the frig, coffee and tea, dishes, and beach towels. We are above the town and have a view of the town and the harbour.
The town clock chimes every half hour and the train whizzes through every 20 minutes or so.
We strolled through the town, which is really just one street and then chose a restaurant for lunch on the main square, for the first time without looking at the menu before sitting down. Big mistake. We ended up paying 45 euros for a caprese salad, some cheese croquettes, a small seafood salad, one beer, and water. We were charged 6 euros for the basket of bread that was plopped down on our table with the beverages--we have never been charged for bread before in either Italy or France. Feeling ripped off was not a good way to start our visit here. We spent the afternoon on the breakwater in the sunshine, swimming in the deep water to cool off. We found a grocery store, bought supplies for breakfast, ordered a pizza and had dinner on our patio. Much cheaper.
The Cinque Terre was one of our destinations that we were most excited about. I felt really fortunate to have been able to reserve this spot--the #1 rated accommodation on tripadvisor in the "jewel" of these five towns, according to Rick Steves. The town is a photographer's dream. The buildings are all soft colours, mostly peach or yellow with green shutters and they tumble down the cliff toward the sea. Laundry hangs from windows. The hills around the town are terraced for small gardens and tiny vineyards. The town clock dominates the scene but there is evidence of ancient stone remains all over. However, it is absolutely crawling with tourists. The streets are jam-packed and the prices are high. We had expected a quiet little out-of-the-way spot where we could relax, hike, swim, and enjoy the small villages. Not so. We are feeling quite disappointed. Perhaps it is just the heat that is getting to us. We have been in this heat wave since arriving in Europe. A cool rainy day would be a nice change right now!
We have planned our itinerary for tomorrow. I have a massage appointment early in the morning after which we are going to see all five villages by either boat, trail, or train.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Pizza by the Pound and Skinny French Women
Levanto. On the north west coast of Italy.
We can certainly see why Andrea and Trevor loved this little town when they were here four years ago. It is a charming mix of the old and the new. We arrived about 2 p.m. after feeling like moles on the autostrada. We passed through more than a hundred tunnels on the way here, blinking in the light as we exited each one.
Already we have hiked through the Old Town, bought pizza and focaccia by weight, gone for a swim at the beach, wandered through the shops, and had appies and dinner in a little outdoor enoteca, or wine bar. Tomorrow is market day here, so we will be shopping for locally made pesto to bring home in our suitcases.
We've had the opportunity to do lots of people-watching on this trip, and now that we've been in two countries, I just have to comment on the women! The French women are gorgeous. They are all thin. They dress for lunch like I would dress for a wedding or for New Year's Eve. No exaggeration. I remember sitting next to a mom who was taking her young son out for lunch. She was wearing a black frilly georgette dress. I cannot comprehend how they walk on cobblestone streets in the heels they wear. They all sport an expensive bag that matches their outfit and they wear lots of bling. Clothing that we might consider risque looks feminine on them. Even the older women are slim and well turned out and perfectly accessorized. Everyone wears dresses. It is rare to see jeans. And yet, they sit in cafes and eat buttery croissants for breakfast, have 2 hour multi-course lunches complete with wine, and dinner is another major event of the day. The only joggers I have seen were on the street early in the morning in Nice and judging by their clothing, they looked like North American tourists. Go figure. Italian women, on the other hand, don't seem to follow suit. They all seem to be quite comfortable in their own skin, if their choice of bathing suits is any indication. No worrying about a little muffin top here! However, the sad part of this observation is that they all seem to smoke. We had read that smoking was banned in public places in France, but we have yet to discover where those public places might be!
We can certainly see why Andrea and Trevor loved this little town when they were here four years ago. It is a charming mix of the old and the new. We arrived about 2 p.m. after feeling like moles on the autostrada. We passed through more than a hundred tunnels on the way here, blinking in the light as we exited each one.
Already we have hiked through the Old Town, bought pizza and focaccia by weight, gone for a swim at the beach, wandered through the shops, and had appies and dinner in a little outdoor enoteca, or wine bar. Tomorrow is market day here, so we will be shopping for locally made pesto to bring home in our suitcases.
We've had the opportunity to do lots of people-watching on this trip, and now that we've been in two countries, I just have to comment on the women! The French women are gorgeous. They are all thin. They dress for lunch like I would dress for a wedding or for New Year's Eve. No exaggeration. I remember sitting next to a mom who was taking her young son out for lunch. She was wearing a black frilly georgette dress. I cannot comprehend how they walk on cobblestone streets in the heels they wear. They all sport an expensive bag that matches their outfit and they wear lots of bling. Clothing that we might consider risque looks feminine on them. Even the older women are slim and well turned out and perfectly accessorized. Everyone wears dresses. It is rare to see jeans. And yet, they sit in cafes and eat buttery croissants for breakfast, have 2 hour multi-course lunches complete with wine, and dinner is another major event of the day. The only joggers I have seen were on the street early in the morning in Nice and judging by their clothing, they looked like North American tourists. Go figure. Italian women, on the other hand, don't seem to follow suit. They all seem to be quite comfortable in their own skin, if their choice of bathing suits is any indication. No worrying about a little muffin top here! However, the sad part of this observation is that they all seem to smoke. We had read that smoking was banned in public places in France, but we have yet to discover where those public places might be!
A Day of Rest
July 19
A Day of Rest
Today we just hung out. We headed to our hotel's beach (600 meters down the road) this morning and swam, sunned, and people- watched from our rented sun beds. For 13 euros we were led to our spot for a half day, complete with 2 loungers, an umbrella, and an attached table. The ocean is lovely and warm. The pizza was good, too.
Entering Italy yesterday with no knowledge of the language was a bit of a shock, but it struck me today that some language is universal. We watched grandparents fawning over a 6 month old baby boy, cooing to him all the while as they made trip after trip to the tap to fill containers to fill his tiny wading pool. Mothereze, or in this case, grandmothereze, is understood by all.
It was good to just relax around the pool and read our books today. We bumbled our way through a supermarcato and found items for a picnic dinner. Tomorrow we're off to Levanto.
A Day of Rest
Today we just hung out. We headed to our hotel's beach (600 meters down the road) this morning and swam, sunned, and people- watched from our rented sun beds. For 13 euros we were led to our spot for a half day, complete with 2 loungers, an umbrella, and an attached table. The ocean is lovely and warm. The pizza was good, too.
Entering Italy yesterday with no knowledge of the language was a bit of a shock, but it struck me today that some language is universal. We watched grandparents fawning over a 6 month old baby boy, cooing to him all the while as they made trip after trip to the tap to fill containers to fill his tiny wading pool. Mothereze, or in this case, grandmothereze, is understood by all.
It was good to just relax around the pool and read our books today. We bumbled our way through a supermarcato and found items for a picnic dinner. Tomorrow we're off to Levanto.
Matisse, Monte Carlo, and a Malfunctioning GPS
July 18. Matisse, Monte Carlo, and a GPS Malfunction
Coffee on the street as the city of Nice was waking up. Nice way to start our day.
The Matisse Museum in Nice was next. My knowledge of this artist was limited to a cursory review of his works in an undergrad art class at UVic. I wasn't aware of the scope of the media with which he experimented--from realistic oils, pointillism, line drawings, cubism, to cut-outs in his later years. I'm motivated to have next year's Grade Ones create a mural in his cut-out style.
On to the ancient Roman city of Eze. We didn't give this the attention it probably deserved as it was crawling with tourists and bus tours and it was stinkin' hot out. Stunning views of the Mediterranean and surrounding area from here.
Monaco next! Missed the turnoff to the palace so we went to the casino in Monte Carlo first. Lost our self-imposed gambling limit of 5 euros in less than 2 minutes. We joined the hordes of lookie-loos gawking at the ridiculously expensive cars parked in front. This is just not our "scene" but since we were here, we felt we should see it all. Back-tracked to see Prince Ranier's palace and the cathedral where he and Princess Grace were married (and where she is now buried). Toured the beautiful gardens from where we had spectacular views of yacht basins chock full of multi-million dollar yachts and surrounding apartments complete with roof-top swimming pools and gardens. Monaco has a population of about 30 000, but only 10 000 of these are permanent residents (who pay no income tax). Drove part of the race track through town where the annual Grand Prix is held. Walked up and down way too many stairs today. Got a blister.
Crossed into Italy, driving through tunnel after tunnel, which may, or may not have been the reason our beloved GPS failed us! It decided to stop just as we neared Sanremo, our destination for the night. Did we have a map of the city? Of course not. Rick Steeves doesn't mention this spot, so we didn't even have the address of the Tourist Information office. Driving around this town of 50 000 people looking for our hotel proved futile. We finally found a sign pointing to the tourist info office, parked in a loading zone and started walking. . . and walking . . . and walking. On my blister. We gave up, returned to our loading zone spot, began driving once again, and Hey look! The GPS is working just fine. Karen, or whatever her name is, was talking to us once again, and we arrived at our hotel in a few minutes.
Sanremo is a tourist resort town. The buildings are painted in soft pink, peach, apricot and butter yellow, many with olive green shutters and wrought iron railings on little balconies. It bursts with colour from the flower gardens--bougainvillaea, hibiscus, and impatiens grow under tall palm trees. A promenade stretches along the beach right through town. We walked about 3km along it, (on my blister) looking for a good place to eat, and of course, another 3 km back . . . on my . . . . .
Coffee on the street as the city of Nice was waking up. Nice way to start our day.
The Matisse Museum in Nice was next. My knowledge of this artist was limited to a cursory review of his works in an undergrad art class at UVic. I wasn't aware of the scope of the media with which he experimented--from realistic oils, pointillism, line drawings, cubism, to cut-outs in his later years. I'm motivated to have next year's Grade Ones create a mural in his cut-out style.
On to the ancient Roman city of Eze. We didn't give this the attention it probably deserved as it was crawling with tourists and bus tours and it was stinkin' hot out. Stunning views of the Mediterranean and surrounding area from here.
Monaco next! Missed the turnoff to the palace so we went to the casino in Monte Carlo first. Lost our self-imposed gambling limit of 5 euros in less than 2 minutes. We joined the hordes of lookie-loos gawking at the ridiculously expensive cars parked in front. This is just not our "scene" but since we were here, we felt we should see it all. Back-tracked to see Prince Ranier's palace and the cathedral where he and Princess Grace were married (and where she is now buried). Toured the beautiful gardens from where we had spectacular views of yacht basins chock full of multi-million dollar yachts and surrounding apartments complete with roof-top swimming pools and gardens. Monaco has a population of about 30 000, but only 10 000 of these are permanent residents (who pay no income tax). Drove part of the race track through town where the annual Grand Prix is held. Walked up and down way too many stairs today. Got a blister.
Crossed into Italy, driving through tunnel after tunnel, which may, or may not have been the reason our beloved GPS failed us! It decided to stop just as we neared Sanremo, our destination for the night. Did we have a map of the city? Of course not. Rick Steeves doesn't mention this spot, so we didn't even have the address of the Tourist Information office. Driving around this town of 50 000 people looking for our hotel proved futile. We finally found a sign pointing to the tourist info office, parked in a loading zone and started walking. . . and walking . . . and walking. On my blister. We gave up, returned to our loading zone spot, began driving once again, and Hey look! The GPS is working just fine. Karen, or whatever her name is, was talking to us once again, and we arrived at our hotel in a few minutes.
Sanremo is a tourist resort town. The buildings are painted in soft pink, peach, apricot and butter yellow, many with olive green shutters and wrought iron railings on little balconies. It bursts with colour from the flower gardens--bougainvillaea, hibiscus, and impatiens grow under tall palm trees. A promenade stretches along the beach right through town. We walked about 3km along it, (on my blister) looking for a good place to eat, and of course, another 3 km back . . . on my . . . . .
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Nice to be in Nice
Nice is a beautiful city and we quite like it here. We arrived mid- day, headed for the Promenade des Anglais (a 5km promenade alomg the waterfront, built so the wealthy holidaying British could enjoy the beach without having to walk on the stones). We checked out the mall, since it was air-conditioned, grabbed a bite to eat and checked into our hotel. Love it! Great location right downtown, beautifully decorated room, helpful desk clerk. Spent tne afternoon exploring the old town, had socca (chickpea pancake, yum) and beer in a little cafe on the Cours Saleya near the flower market, and did a little shopping, pour moi. We checked out the restaurants Rick Steeves recommended, chose one close to our hotel and made our selections from the menu, with a little help from the garcon. People are so helpful here. They go out of their way to make sure you get what you want, or what you need. When we ordered a carafe of red wine, our waiter looked horrified. "With risotto? Avec le poisson? Ah non, non, non!" He then suggested a white from the north of France, brought us some to sample, and filled our glasses once we agreed. Mon dieu, such a faux pas! I happen to like red wine, and will drink it with anything, but I could see there was no point in upsetting him.
Took way too many pictures of cute narrow streets today. Must stop this nonsense.
Planning to see Matisse Museum in the morning, Eze on Jackie and Jim's recommendation, then on to Monte Carlo.
Took way too many pictures of cute narrow streets today. Must stop this nonsense.
Planning to see Matisse Museum in the morning, Eze on Jackie and Jim's recommendation, then on to Monte Carlo.
Friday, July 16, 2010
If you don't open the door, you can't go inside
Things we have learned about ourselves as travelers:
1. Den has an amazing sense of direction and can find anything, even when the GPS seems confused. He always landmarks.
2. Elaine has no sense of direction. None. Zippo. (Den just added Nada). She forgets to landmark but can describe in utmost detail the clothing, including bling, of the last five women we just passed on the street.
3. You must put things back exactly where you found them in a suitcase. Exactly. All the time. No exceptions. Even if it not a logical place to keep it. Don't argue with him. Just do it. And remember that the parking ticket always goes next to his Canadian money in his pocket.
4. If you look behind closed doors (or up tiny alleys) you will find amazing surprises.
After a tiring day full of sightseeing in Cannes and Antibes yesterday, we decided to stay close to "home" at the cottage today. We slept in, had a leisurely breakfast and we had the pool to ourselves for the afternoon. We set out about 3:00 to drive a circle route through a series of small nearby villages, labeled as being "green". We are still not sure if that refers to their environmental standards, their agricultural status, or something else.
Who cares? The unexpected surprises we found hiding in these spots are something we will remember forever.
We spotted a village way at the top of a mountain, took pictures of it from the wheat field below, then found that the road led us right up to it. I was content to simply look at the incredible vista below, but Den urged me on down a narrow street where some of the villagers were playing boules (like bocce ball) in the street. I felt we might be intruding into their private space, but followed along.
This village, Faux Amphoux, dates from the 11th century. Eleventh! Many of the buildings still in use were constructed in the 16th and 17th centuries. Once we stepped into the village, it felt absolutely magical. I found myself obsessed with taking pictures of doors, some so old they may have been original, some partially repaired, one brand new. It was fun to imagine what those doors were hiding. Behind one we heard piano music, behind another someone answered a telephone, others gave us glimpses of people going about their daily work. Den took a picture of me sitting in an ancient stone doorway that led into a room of rubble. How many generations stepped over that same threshhold before me?
The next three villages were full of surprises, as well. One was bullt into the side of a mountain (how DID they do that way back then?) Another memory we'll hold on to is driving up a very narrow streeet in a little town, being yelled at and laughing with a couple of locals once we realized we had almost gone down a one-way street the wrong way, and THEN heading into a street so narrow we thought we might haveto take the mirrors off the car.
So . . . lots of learning about ourselves a travelers today . . . and we'll keep on opening those doors.
1. Den has an amazing sense of direction and can find anything, even when the GPS seems confused. He always landmarks.
2. Elaine has no sense of direction. None. Zippo. (Den just added Nada). She forgets to landmark but can describe in utmost detail the clothing, including bling, of the last five women we just passed on the street.
3. You must put things back exactly where you found them in a suitcase. Exactly. All the time. No exceptions. Even if it not a logical place to keep it. Don't argue with him. Just do it. And remember that the parking ticket always goes next to his Canadian money in his pocket.
4. If you look behind closed doors (or up tiny alleys) you will find amazing surprises.
After a tiring day full of sightseeing in Cannes and Antibes yesterday, we decided to stay close to "home" at the cottage today. We slept in, had a leisurely breakfast and we had the pool to ourselves for the afternoon. We set out about 3:00 to drive a circle route through a series of small nearby villages, labeled as being "green". We are still not sure if that refers to their environmental standards, their agricultural status, or something else.
Who cares? The unexpected surprises we found hiding in these spots are something we will remember forever.
We spotted a village way at the top of a mountain, took pictures of it from the wheat field below, then found that the road led us right up to it. I was content to simply look at the incredible vista below, but Den urged me on down a narrow street where some of the villagers were playing boules (like bocce ball) in the street. I felt we might be intruding into their private space, but followed along.
This village, Faux Amphoux, dates from the 11th century. Eleventh! Many of the buildings still in use were constructed in the 16th and 17th centuries. Once we stepped into the village, it felt absolutely magical. I found myself obsessed with taking pictures of doors, some so old they may have been original, some partially repaired, one brand new. It was fun to imagine what those doors were hiding. Behind one we heard piano music, behind another someone answered a telephone, others gave us glimpses of people going about their daily work. Den took a picture of me sitting in an ancient stone doorway that led into a room of rubble. How many generations stepped over that same threshhold before me?
The next three villages were full of surprises, as well. One was bullt into the side of a mountain (how DID they do that way back then?) Another memory we'll hold on to is driving up a very narrow streeet in a little town, being yelled at and laughing with a couple of locals once we realized we had almost gone down a one-way street the wrong way, and THEN heading into a street so narrow we thought we might haveto take the mirrors off the car.
So . . . lots of learning about ourselves a travelers today . . . and we'll keep on opening those doors.
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous-- not us! July 15, 2010
While this vacation seems to be costing less than we had budgeted, we will never have the money, or the lifestyle, that we saw today in Cannes-- and nor would we want to. This city is on a beautiful stretch of silky sandy beach and it is easy to see why the wealthy Brits chose it as their summer playground. Our pictures on Facebook show how some people choose to spend their excess money. Here you have a choice. You can squeeze your towel in between the hordes on the public beach, or you can rent a sun bed on a private beach, where you are also squeezed in. Rates vary from about $35 per bed to $260, depending on where it is situated. Front row beds are obviously more.
We joined in with the tourists and took a photo of me walking down the red carpet from the Palais des Festivals where the Cannes Film Festival is held every year in May. We also found the Hotel Carlton where the celebrities stay, did a walking tour of the city, and had a great lunch in the tiniest cafe. From there we went on to Antibes to see the Picasso Museum. It is housed in a stunning ancient chateau right on the Mediterranean. Picasso used this spot as his studio in 1946 and fifty of his originals are on display here. By this time, the heat and the crowds had done us in (temperatures are in the mid-30's every day) and we returned to the cottage to cook our own dinner and relax on the patio.
We have been pleasantly surprised to find that prices are not exorbitant here as we had been told. While diesel costs more and there are highway tolls to pay, our car is getting 45 mpg. The cost of restaurant meals and groceries is roughly the same as at home. Our accommodation expenses vary depending on the location-- higher in the big cities, of course, but here we are only paying about $90 per night for this cottage. Clothing also seems to be roughly on par. There are lots of sales on right now, as merchandisers try to get rid of their summer stock, just as they will be doing in the Mayfair Mall. Did I mention the cost of le vin et le biere? Cheap, cheap, cheap! This surprise is encouraging and makes our dream of a return here sooner than later a distinct possibility.
We joined in with the tourists and took a photo of me walking down the red carpet from the Palais des Festivals where the Cannes Film Festival is held every year in May. We also found the Hotel Carlton where the celebrities stay, did a walking tour of the city, and had a great lunch in the tiniest cafe. From there we went on to Antibes to see the Picasso Museum. It is housed in a stunning ancient chateau right on the Mediterranean. Picasso used this spot as his studio in 1946 and fifty of his originals are on display here. By this time, the heat and the crowds had done us in (temperatures are in the mid-30's every day) and we returned to the cottage to cook our own dinner and relax on the patio.
We have been pleasantly surprised to find that prices are not exorbitant here as we had been told. While diesel costs more and there are highway tolls to pay, our car is getting 45 mpg. The cost of restaurant meals and groceries is roughly the same as at home. Our accommodation expenses vary depending on the location-- higher in the big cities, of course, but here we are only paying about $90 per night for this cottage. Clothing also seems to be roughly on par. There are lots of sales on right now, as merchandisers try to get rid of their summer stock, just as they will be doing in the Mayfair Mall. Did I mention the cost of le vin et le biere? Cheap, cheap, cheap! This surprise is encouraging and makes our dream of a return here sooner than later a distinct possibility.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The Cottage-- our home for this week
What I'll remember about this spot:
Driving along back roads for what seemed like forever and wondering what on earth I had reserved
Sleeping with the door wide open
Birds singing at first light
Donkey braying soon afterward
Rooster crowing after that
Breakfast on the patio
Bees in the lavender
Hanging laundry on the line near the garden of garlic, zucchini and tomatoes
Lounging by the pool and looking over the vineyard
Getting lost every time we tried to come home
Here are some pictures of it:
http://www.domaine-de-conillieres.com/english/index.php
Driving along back roads for what seemed like forever and wondering what on earth I had reserved
Sleeping with the door wide open
Birds singing at first light
Donkey braying soon afterward
Rooster crowing after that
Breakfast on the patio
Bees in the lavender
Hanging laundry on the line near the garden of garlic, zucchini and tomatoes
Lounging by the pool and looking over the vineyard
Getting lost every time we tried to come home
Here are some pictures of it:
http://www.domaine-de-conillieres.com/english/index.php
The Colours of Provence
I had read about how many artists came to paint in Provence, attracted by the luminous light and brilliant colours. I think this must be one of those things you have to see to believe. The colours here are so vivid: the sky is a uniform light blue, the vineyards are brilliantly green, and the soil has a reddish hue. Today we drove into Aix-en-Provence, about 45 minutes from our cottage. It was market day and the main square was filled with colours of all intensities--golden sunflowers, fresh green beans, tomatoes, les courges, peaches, strawberries, melons, every fruit or vegetable imaginable. Our French is getting a little better. We bought a fougasse, tomatoes, onions, garlic, zucchini, herbs des Provence, battered zucchini flowers, and half a poulet roti-- a rotisserie chicken. Can't wait for dinner!
My highlight of the day was visiting Cezanne's studio in Aix. He painted here until his death in 1906 and his studio has been left virtually unchanged. It was almost surreal to see and touch his supplies--his worn leather knapsack, umbrellas, smock, overcoat and hat, and most of all, the items from his most famous still life paintings--the wine bottle, pedestal plate (visualize fruit on top), even the table on which he placed these items. We also walked through the trails in his garden. It was easy to imagine him there and to see why he found this part of France so inspirational.
Wish I could post my pictures here, but the iPad won't let me. I have been posting our photos on my Facebook site. If you are interested, just send a request to be my Facebook "friend" and you will have access to my site.
My highlight of the day was visiting Cezanne's studio in Aix. He painted here until his death in 1906 and his studio has been left virtually unchanged. It was almost surreal to see and touch his supplies--his worn leather knapsack, umbrellas, smock, overcoat and hat, and most of all, the items from his most famous still life paintings--the wine bottle, pedestal plate (visualize fruit on top), even the table on which he placed these items. We also walked through the trails in his garden. It was easy to imagine him there and to see why he found this part of France so inspirational.
Wish I could post my pictures here, but the iPad won't let me. I have been posting our photos on my Facebook site. If you are interested, just send a request to be my Facebook "friend" and you will have access to my site.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Van Gogh, a bridge, and more great meals
Or Den says I should title this "Arles well that ends well".
Drove to Arles today, saw the Roman ruins --the amphitheater and the coliseum, and the Cafe la Nuit, the bright yellow cafe that is the subject of one of Van Gogh's most famous paintings. We also visited the hospital where they put him after he went ballistic on Paul Gaugin and ended up cutting of his own ear lobe (and apparently gave it to a prostitute--I wonder if he thought that was an appropriate payment).
Here I go talking about food again . . .we had yet another great lunch in an outdoor cafe--Mistral Salad today. Sunshine, fresh food, fine wine, an accordion player in the square serenading the locals while they enjoyed their daily 2 hour lunch. . .I could get used to living like this.
Next it was on to Avignon to see the bridge that is the subject of the nursery rhyme. Avignon is a university town. This month it is hosting a theatre festival, sort of like a Fringe Festival. The streets were jam-packed with performers advertising their plays and hawking tickets for tonight's performances. To put it mildly, it was a zoo, and not our scene at all, especially since it was 37 degrees. We walked all the way through town to the bridge, snapped a picture, abandoned our plan to see the Palace of the Popes (which I am sure is spectacular, but by this point in our day we simply did not care), and headed back to our cottage out here in the country.
It is so quiet here and so far away from anything that we sleep with the door wide open to let a breeze in. The cottage is equipped with everything we could possibly need. Philippe, the owner, obviously likes Ikea--lots of items here. Tonight we made ourselves a salad, and feasted on fresh olive bread, the creamiest Roquefort cheese, lemon olives and Stracciatella yogurt, on Trev's recommendation. A perfect end to the day.
Drove to Arles today, saw the Roman ruins --the amphitheater and the coliseum, and the Cafe la Nuit, the bright yellow cafe that is the subject of one of Van Gogh's most famous paintings. We also visited the hospital where they put him after he went ballistic on Paul Gaugin and ended up cutting of his own ear lobe (and apparently gave it to a prostitute--I wonder if he thought that was an appropriate payment).
Here I go talking about food again . . .we had yet another great lunch in an outdoor cafe--Mistral Salad today. Sunshine, fresh food, fine wine, an accordion player in the square serenading the locals while they enjoyed their daily 2 hour lunch. . .I could get used to living like this.
Next it was on to Avignon to see the bridge that is the subject of the nursery rhyme. Avignon is a university town. This month it is hosting a theatre festival, sort of like a Fringe Festival. The streets were jam-packed with performers advertising their plays and hawking tickets for tonight's performances. To put it mildly, it was a zoo, and not our scene at all, especially since it was 37 degrees. We walked all the way through town to the bridge, snapped a picture, abandoned our plan to see the Palace of the Popes (which I am sure is spectacular, but by this point in our day we simply did not care), and headed back to our cottage out here in the country.
It is so quiet here and so far away from anything that we sleep with the door wide open to let a breeze in. The cottage is equipped with everything we could possibly need. Philippe, the owner, obviously likes Ikea--lots of items here. Tonight we made ourselves a salad, and feasted on fresh olive bread, the creamiest Roquefort cheese, lemon olives and Stracciatella yogurt, on Trev's recommendation. A perfect end to the day.
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Mediterranean!
The best part of Den's day was coming over a hill and seeing the Mediterranean stretched out before us. It really is bluer than blue. We drove to Cassis on the southern coast near Marseille to see the Calanques, which are like fjords. We took a boat tour through three of them and the scenery was spectacular. Seeing all the vacationers swimming off their boats or lounging around on their decks having appies and drinks made us miss our summer boating at home. Hope we can fit in some Gulf Islands time when we return. We found a public beach and I jumped in--not as warm as the Indian Ocean, but lovely and refeeshing. Boating and swimming in the Mediterranean--there are two more things off my bucket list. We had dinner in Toulon in an outdoor cafe right on the promenade--HUGE pots of fresh moulds et frites, mussels and fries in a Gorgonzola sauce.
The French really know how to do things right. No wonder they are sometimes viewed as being arrogant--they know they are a step above others, We have not found a single thing to criticize. From a tourist's perspective, it's all good. The scenery is to die for--rolling green hills dotted with ancient villages and tidy vineyards. Roads are in excellent shape and most intersections are beautifully landscaped roundabouts. The food is fresh, interesting, and delicious and each region has iits specialties. There is a focus on meat, which makes it a little difficult for us, but we have always been able to find vegetarian or seafood choices on menus. Shopping makes sense. Every village has a market where you can buy fresh fruit and veggies, a boulangerie for your daily baguette, and a patisserie for sweets. So far we have steered clear of those. Even the supermarkets are more efficient than ours. You weigh and label your own produce. The people are good-looking and well turned out. No jeans and hoodies here. Did I mention the public washrooms? Open the door to a stainless steel interior, the seat lowers for you, Insert your hands into a compartment for soap, then water, then a dryer, push the button to open the door, exit, and the entire room is sprayed and sterilized for the next person. Love it. Wanna live here.
The French really know how to do things right. No wonder they are sometimes viewed as being arrogant--they know they are a step above others, We have not found a single thing to criticize. From a tourist's perspective, it's all good. The scenery is to die for--rolling green hills dotted with ancient villages and tidy vineyards. Roads are in excellent shape and most intersections are beautifully landscaped roundabouts. The food is fresh, interesting, and delicious and each region has iits specialties. There is a focus on meat, which makes it a little difficult for us, but we have always been able to find vegetarian or seafood choices on menus. Shopping makes sense. Every village has a market where you can buy fresh fruit and veggies, a boulangerie for your daily baguette, and a patisserie for sweets. So far we have steered clear of those. Even the supermarkets are more efficient than ours. You weigh and label your own produce. The people are good-looking and well turned out. No jeans and hoodies here. Did I mention the public washrooms? Open the door to a stainless steel interior, the seat lowers for you, Insert your hands into a compartment for soap, then water, then a dryer, push the button to open the door, exit, and the entire room is sprayed and sterilized for the next person. Love it. Wanna live here.
Three Heads of Lettuce
That is probably how I'll remember today. On our host, Phillippe's recommendation, we hiked into the nearest down to visit the tiny market they have there on Sundays. It sounded like such a great idea at the time--walking through the countryside of Provence to pick up fresh local goods. He failed to tell us about the hills . . . And we failed to think about the heat wave here. We did find the market and with our very limited French bought some fruit and vegetables. However, we ended up with three heads of lettuce! After much gesturing and repetition, we finally came to understand that he was trying to tell me that 3 of his locally grown organic heads of lettuce were a much better deal than the one to which I had pointed. To end this "conversation" I agreed to buy his bargain. While the long walk home was pretty uncomfortable in this heat, it did give us the chance to really view this back country area--thyme and lavender grow wild on the roadsides here. It is an area of small vineyards and olive groves.
Other than our long hike, today was a day of rest. I did a couple of loads of laundry which dried on the clothesline In 30 minutes. We swam and lounged and napped by the pool most of the day . . . And had lots of fresh lettuce for dinner.
Other than our long hike, today was a day of rest. I did a couple of loads of laundry which dried on the clothesline In 30 minutes. We swam and lounged and napped by the pool most of the day . . . And had lots of fresh lettuce for dinner.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
A Day of Contrasts
July 10
Den reminded me at breakfast that it was 4 years ago today that I was diagnosed. We talked about how our lives changed then, and about the uncertainty of a long life. His advice? Fill up the life you have.
And we are. Today was one of extreme contrasts. It began in Lyon, the third largest city in France, after Paris and Marseille. We took the funicular (tram) up the hill above old Lyon to see the Basilica. It was one of those things we thought we should see, since we were here, but Catholic houses of worship are not high on Den's list of must-do's. However, we were sure glad we did. It was the most impressive structure imaginable. It took 200 years to build and the interior is entirely decorated in tiny mosaics, all in tribute to Mary. Extremely interesting, both from a historic and architectural point of view. We stopped off at the Saturday market to watch the locals in action and bought a loaf of pain complet.
Our GPS was not in our good books today--but I believe our troubles had more to do with the directions we were give than the technology. We had to tell her to shut up a few times. After a lot of driving, mostly in the wrong direction, we arrived here at this little out-of-the-way spot deep in the heart of Provence. We have an apartment here on a vineyard for a week. It is way out in the country, at the end of a dirt road.I think we are going to like it. It has a nice pool, lounge chairs, everything we could possible need to cook our own meals, and a resident cat. Den got directions to get to a local market in the morning, a half hour walk through the countryside to the nearest village, and a chance to stock up on bread, goat cheese, and local produce.
So--definitely a day of contrasts-- from the urban morning rush in Lyon to an evening listening to the insects in the trees. By the way, Andrea, what are those buzzing things?
Den reminded me at breakfast that it was 4 years ago today that I was diagnosed. We talked about how our lives changed then, and about the uncertainty of a long life. His advice? Fill up the life you have.
And we are. Today was one of extreme contrasts. It began in Lyon, the third largest city in France, after Paris and Marseille. We took the funicular (tram) up the hill above old Lyon to see the Basilica. It was one of those things we thought we should see, since we were here, but Catholic houses of worship are not high on Den's list of must-do's. However, we were sure glad we did. It was the most impressive structure imaginable. It took 200 years to build and the interior is entirely decorated in tiny mosaics, all in tribute to Mary. Extremely interesting, both from a historic and architectural point of view. We stopped off at the Saturday market to watch the locals in action and bought a loaf of pain complet.
Our GPS was not in our good books today--but I believe our troubles had more to do with the directions we were give than the technology. We had to tell her to shut up a few times. After a lot of driving, mostly in the wrong direction, we arrived here at this little out-of-the-way spot deep in the heart of Provence. We have an apartment here on a vineyard for a week. It is way out in the country, at the end of a dirt road.I think we are going to like it. It has a nice pool, lounge chairs, everything we could possible need to cook our own meals, and a resident cat. Den got directions to get to a local market in the morning, a half hour walk through the countryside to the nearest village, and a chance to stock up on bread, goat cheese, and local produce.
So--definitely a day of contrasts-- from the urban morning rush in Lyon to an evening listening to the insects in the trees. By the way, Andrea, what are those buzzing things?
Friday, July 9, 2010
Beaune to Lyon
Left the Hotel Alesia after yet another great breakfast. Why do I think about food so much? We took the backroads all the way through wine country--a beautiful route through vineyard after vineyard. each little village seems to have its own chateau and une eglise. Best memory was of zooming along country roads and passing through narrow cobblestone streets of medieval villages. stopped in a few of them and viewed the monastery in Cluny where we also bought some wine, crackers and olive tapenade. Tom and Linda: Mrs. christopherson would be so proud of us! We are shocked at how much of our high school French we actually remember and can use. We arrived here in Lyon, the good old GPS brought us right to the hotel parking lot which we recognized because we had already viewed it on google street view at home. Paid more for this hotel but boy, was it worth it! Old historic place, big room by European standards, overlooking the theatre which is all lit up now at night. One highlight today was finding a Traboules, a serpentine like passageway that links the city streets. They are like hidden pathways that hide courtyards and entrances to apartments, etc. Apparently they were designed to shelter silk, a major industry here historically, when it was being moved from stage to stage, but they also helped the Resistance fighters confuse the Nazis during WW2. Den is more adventurous than I am when it comes to stuff like this, or maybe it is because he has watched so many war movies, but he found one of the old doors, opened it, said, C'mon and led me down this long passageway. Wow-- it ended up in a little courtyard with spiral staircases leading up several stories and a staircase leading down to a cellar. great place to let your imagination run wild and picture soldiers outsmarting the Nazis. . . Had dinner in an outdoor cafe and walked around the city at night. This is an amazing country. We haven't found a single thing to complain about. Everyone is helpful, goes out of their way to help with English--even the public toilets put ours to shame. Loving every minute of every day.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Day 4 Colmar to Beaune
Another day of clear sunny skies and warm temperatures--up to 33 degrees today. Set out after another fabulous breakfast beside the pool and headed to another little village on the Route du Vin called Eguisheim--very picturesque. Bought bread and kiwi in the market for lunch and headed towards Beaune in the heart of the Burgundy region. Toured the Hotel Dieu, a hospital built in the 1400's and still used until the 1980's! Next we toured an incredible wine cellar (Jim you would love this!) It was an underground labyrinth stocked with countless thousands of bottles. We were able to sample 13 of them. Found our hotel--very cute--then had a very French dinner, complete with creme brûlée. No such thing as low fat on that menu!
I'm having trouble figuring out how to get photos on this blog with the iPad but will figure it out soon I hope. We are on to Lyon tomorrow after touring a few vineyards and wineries on the way. Au revoir!
I'm having trouble figuring out how to get photos on this blog with the iPad but will figure it out soon I hope. We are on to Lyon tomorrow after touring a few vineyards and wineries on the way. Au revoir!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Ready to go
We are packed, ready to go, and feeling the same excitement we did the last time I sewed Canadian flags on backpacks--when we were 20 years old. Follow us on this blog and leave your comments so we can talk to you!
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