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.