Everyone sleeps in a bit. Chris and SN2 walk to the village to buy bread, eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, coffee, etc. Our coffee maker makes lousy coffee. Missing the French press…
The plan for today is to tour locally, starting with Vieux Villages Mougins [the old village]. We have driven up and over and through these cobbled streets, narrow and winding, but on foot we take the time to appreciate the details of these gorgeous stone buildings with weathered shutters. Vieux Villages sits high above modern Mougins with views of the snow-capped Alpes-De-Haute-Provence [the high Alps of Provence] and the verdant and rolling Esterels. Tile-roofed villas and homes are terraced into the hillsides, and the landscape is punctuated with tall, narrow Cyprus trees. The panorama is breathtaking.
Tiny patches of green herbs and gentle flowers peek through cracks in the stone walls of the village. Windows and doorways are utilitarian works of art. Small, picturesque terraces and courtyards are tucked between and behind these ancient buildings.
It is low-season so many of the restaurants and shops are shuttered for the few weeks until Christmas or into the new year. And, it is the rule rather than an exception that shops are closed for le déjeuner from noon to 2:30pm. Lunch in France is an important and leisurely event, often beginning with the local rosé and ending with an espresso or café crème.
As we arrive in Cannes, we are more interested in the coffee than in lunch. We walk along the promenade and the rue Félix Faure and find an Italian café for chocolat chaud and café crème. They have the tiniest WC! It is spotless, functional, and appreciated. Our pretty young waitress and handsome barman recommend four restaurants in the oldest part of Canne. We spend the afternoon wandering the narrow, winding, sloping streets and the Christmas market along the harbor. The young women at the tourist information center give us directions to the restaurant locations we want to check out, and we spend the next hour reading menus, comparing prices, checking the ambiance… Everywhere is quaint, charming, and pricey. We have a difficult time deciding but have time to procrastinate because nothing opens for dinner before 6:30pm. The French no doubt consider it very gauche to eat that early, but… We consider Chez Vincent & Nicholas, l’Olivier, l’Auberge Provençal, or Mi Figue – Mi Raisin, and all the restaurants in between. At the end of the winding rue du Suquet, we discover a tiny wine bar and the wine sommelier/owner. He recommends a Sancere, a Rosé, and a local red.
We relax, unwind, and smile a lot. Rested and hungry, we wander down the rue, reviewing the options. As we pass Les Marais, the aggressive young waiter calls a greeting and prods a bit… Why not? Sure. And, we enter the tiny 16-seat restaurant. Our entrees are fois gras with fig confíture, or a salad with smoked salmon. For the main course we choose prawns Provençal, a mixed grill, or sea bass. Dessert is crème brulée or triple chocolate gateau with crème Anglaise and a dark chocolate truffle. A fine meal. So very French and Provençal.
As we leave Les Marais our young waiter dreams of visiting New York City and asks if it is really true that in Chicago the temperature sometimes drops below 40 degrees. He is disbelieving.
A full and delightful day and we head to our villa exhausted and ready for sleep and then tomorrow to Aix-en-Provence.
Bonsoir.
The plan for today is to tour locally, starting with Vieux Villages Mougins [the old village]. We have driven up and over and through these cobbled streets, narrow and winding, but on foot we take the time to appreciate the details of these gorgeous stone buildings with weathered shutters. Vieux Villages sits high above modern Mougins with views of the snow-capped Alpes-De-Haute-Provence [the high Alps of Provence] and the verdant and rolling Esterels. Tile-roofed villas and homes are terraced into the hillsides, and the landscape is punctuated with tall, narrow Cyprus trees. The panorama is breathtaking.
Tiny patches of green herbs and gentle flowers peek through cracks in the stone walls of the village. Windows and doorways are utilitarian works of art. Small, picturesque terraces and courtyards are tucked between and behind these ancient buildings.
It is low-season so many of the restaurants and shops are shuttered for the few weeks until Christmas or into the new year. And, it is the rule rather than an exception that shops are closed for le déjeuner from noon to 2:30pm. Lunch in France is an important and leisurely event, often beginning with the local rosé and ending with an espresso or café crème.
As we arrive in Cannes, we are more interested in the coffee than in lunch. We walk along the promenade and the rue Félix Faure and find an Italian café for chocolat chaud and café crème. They have the tiniest WC! It is spotless, functional, and appreciated. Our pretty young waitress and handsome barman recommend four restaurants in the oldest part of Canne. We spend the afternoon wandering the narrow, winding, sloping streets and the Christmas market along the harbor. The young women at the tourist information center give us directions to the restaurant locations we want to check out, and we spend the next hour reading menus, comparing prices, checking the ambiance… Everywhere is quaint, charming, and pricey. We have a difficult time deciding but have time to procrastinate because nothing opens for dinner before 6:30pm. The French no doubt consider it very gauche to eat that early, but… We consider Chez Vincent & Nicholas, l’Olivier, l’Auberge Provençal, or Mi Figue – Mi Raisin, and all the restaurants in between. At the end of the winding rue du Suquet, we discover a tiny wine bar and the wine sommelier/owner. He recommends a Sancere, a Rosé, and a local red.
We relax, unwind, and smile a lot. Rested and hungry, we wander down the rue, reviewing the options. As we pass Les Marais, the aggressive young waiter calls a greeting and prods a bit… Why not? Sure. And, we enter the tiny 16-seat restaurant. Our entrees are fois gras with fig confíture, or a salad with smoked salmon. For the main course we choose prawns Provençal, a mixed grill, or sea bass. Dessert is crème brulée or triple chocolate gateau with crème Anglaise and a dark chocolate truffle. A fine meal. So very French and Provençal.
As we leave Les Marais our young waiter dreams of visiting New York City and asks if it is really true that in Chicago the temperature sometimes drops below 40 degrees. He is disbelieving.
A full and delightful day and we head to our villa exhausted and ready for sleep and then tomorrow to Aix-en-Provence.
Bonsoir.
No comments:
Post a Comment