DISCOVERING PROVENCE, part 8 - MARSEILLE

Vieux Villages, Mougins, France - SN at the Scene...

We take our time this morning repacking and sorting through, taking a final stroll around the grounds before leaving Club Mougins. We’ve saved Marseille as the last stop on our tour of Provence. We will explore the old city and seafront, and tonight we will stay near the Marseille airport. CA and I fly late-morning to Madrid/Malaga to the Marriott Marbella Beach Resort, while SN2 fly from Marseille to Paris and home to the snow and chill of a wintery Chicago.

SN1 can’t resist taking the scenic route through the hills in Mougins, and then onto the A8 and onward to Marseille. He has been our willing and competent driver this week throughout the cities, villages, and countryside of Provence. We have had some interesting and hilarious experiences with the narrow, winding roads and frequent roundabouts and he is unflappable and kind and self-effacing. As we head along the A8 on toward Marseille, SN1 compliments the French on their good driving habits. He says that they keep right except to pass, even on six- lane highways. They don’t weave through traffic, lane jumping, and cutting people off. However motorcyclists are another story! They must follow a different set of rules of the road than the auto drivers. They zip up from behind on your right and your left; they zoom between lanes and seem to consider the white lines to be a special motorcycle lane…

We reach Marseille and the drivers here seem to have an entirely different mindset. They are crazy! Pedestrians beware! The cobbled roadways are weaving and narrow, following ancient oxen paths with buildings so close to the road that there is barely space for our small car. There are one-way streets and dead ends. You have no right-of-way here.

Vieux Port [the old port] is jammed with boats at anchor—a forest of masts and lines—and ferries for island commuters and ones for tourists, too. Overlooking the blue, blue Mediterranean, the hillsides surround on three sides and are crowded with terra cotta-roofed, ancient buildings, clad in aged and sun-bleached white stucco. The harbor is lined with cafes and restaurants and we walk along, reading menus, and contemplating lunch. My plan was bouillabaisse, but we quickly realize that every tourist wants to try the bouillabaisse, and the restaurateurs have the upper hand. None is on offer for less than 38€, and because my tolerance for any form of fish or seafood is low, the plan is revised…

We walk nearly around the harbor, through the Christmas markets, and up and down a few streets above the harbor. We decide that lunch can be light as we have a celebratory dinner planned for tonight. We opt for pannini’s at a Lina’s and find it a comfortable place to eat, relax, and reminisce.

After lunch we head for the Cathedral of Notre Dame, climbing and winding through the old streets and the questionable neighborhoods where buildings and retaining walls are graffiti-covered. Just at dusk, we take a different street to walk down to Vieux Port, where we find the winds have picked up--a Mistral has kicked in just as the sun has gone down. It's the “magic hour” and the harbor is awash in soft, receding sunlight which bounces off the water and reflects back against the aged buildings. It's magical.

Our legs are tired and we are ready to leave this labyrinth. The GPS saves our bacon, efficiently directing us out of the old city and toward the airport. Maggie shines as she leads us to a hotel. As we enter the carpark, an airline captain climbs out of his car and heads toward reception. CA and SN1 strike up a conversation and James vouches for this hotel--the rooms turn out to be basic and dorm-like with another small utilitarian bathroom where you have to choreograph your movements just so, whether using the facilities or the shower. James, the pilot, also suggests a restaurant across the street where we can have our last dinner together. We spot him as we enter the restaurant and visit a bit. Later he offers to interpret the menu for us and then sends us a bottle of the house red wine. A very nice man—from South Africa, The Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and also the U.S. There are surely stories there to tell…

Dinner is familiar French food--entrecote [grilled steak], roast chicken, boudin blanc w/ carmelized pear and fois gras, and grilled bacon-wrapped shrimp. Although this is a chain restaurant, the food is good and we end our week together on a celebratory note.

Tomorrow there will be new adventures.

DISCOVERING PROVENCE, part 7 - A SIDE TRIP

The Italian Riviera

SN2 haven’t really seen Nice--arriving at the aeroport and driving just to our hotel last Saturday before continuing to Mougins. Since today’s weather is gorgeous, we go early to Nice to visit the Fleur aux Marche, wander the streets, walk the Promenade, and window shop.

At the market we buy salted pistachios, pecans, and also fresh mushrooms for tonight’s chicken soup. We drink coffee, take pictures, and soak up as much as we can… The sun is bright and warm in the Place Massena and we find delicious baguette sandwiches at an outdoor café. We walk through Galleries Lafayette and then down rue du Massena for a few blocks before finding yummy gelato.

Soon we are on the A8 east and heading to the Italian border. The mountains and valleys are terraced with beautiful homes leaning out and over the deep blue Mediterranean. The views are spectacular—villages clustered on the hillsides and overlooking the sea. We drive with great anticipation through San Remo, park in Bordighera, and then discover the Italians have different rules than the French. We have barely adjusted to the 12:00 – 2:30pm lunch break, and now we find the Italian shops and businesses are open from 8:00am – 1:00pm and then not again until 4:00 – 8:00pm. We window shop and find an Illy café where we settle in for our café crème and ciocolatta chald, and also discover the very best cannoli in the world live right down the block [a few moved on with us!].

No matter where we have roamed through Provence we have never been disappointed with any café. They are conscientiously clean and the wait people are kind and tolerate our attempts at French—single words and simple phrases—punctuated with hand gestures and plenty of “pardons” and "merci’s.”

Driving to the Italian Riviera is a joy and the villages on the Mediterranean are quaint and lovely. We always check out the real estate offices wherever we wander, and here we find the prices to be much less than anywhere we have been in Provence.

We wind back up the hillsides and head to Mougins where we buy butter and baguettes to go with our dinner of chicken soup and cheeses. We also have leftover, tiny radishes to eat with salt and buttered baguette slices—and Clementines and chocolates; Beaujolais Nuveau and Champagne. Our last night at Club Mougins and we are living the good life, French style.

Tomorrow we explore Marseille and my first bouillabaisse ever…

DISCOVERING PROVENCE, part 6

Sainte Roseline Winery - near Les Arcs, Provence, France

Up early and a bit of laundry--4€ to wash and 2€ to dry. How nice to have clean pj’s, sox, and jeans. CA and I agree that clean clothes seem to weigh less when folded into the suitcase. We are limited to a mere 33 lbs/1 bag/person for our next three flights, so every ounce counts.

As the clothes dry CA and I hike down the hill to a café for café crème at a neighborhood café. There are stacks of French magazines and newspapers to peruse… We check out a children’s shop and then up the hill to rejoin SN2. The plan today is locate a winery or two as an excuse explore the countryside a bit.

We head to Le Muy and Les Arcs and find Château Ste. Roseline, which fulfills even our highest expectations of what a French winery and vineyard should be—handsome and substantial, landscaped with Cyprus trees, vines, fountains, and large clay Provençal pots of miniature trees and flowers. The stucco is russet and warm, the doors and windows are grand. Across the winding road are vineyards and olive trees with snow capped mountains on the horizon.

Again, we underestimate the French regard for the lunch break. It is 11:55am and the tasting room closes from noon – 2:30pm. We are invited to return for a 2:30pm tour and tasting. For lunch we decide on a recommended café in Les Arcs, but first we drive around and up and down enjoying the olive groves and vineyards, the rolling hills and the sun reflecting off the snowy peaks.

In Les Arcs, Le Cabanon - Restaurant-y Traiteur is a small local café with a menu of simple regional food--seafood, pork, beef, pizzas, and cold salads. We choose pizza—Neapolitan, Mediterranean,and Margharite. It’s so very enjoyable to sit back and appreciate being a part of the Provençal lifestyle, if only for a moment...

We do some quick talking at Château Sainte Roseline, as we have missed the 2:30pm tour, but after a few moments our guide/salesperson relents, and we are given a personalized tour—nothing sleek or choreographed—just the four of us. We step over the hoses and around the barrels and stainless steel vats, being careful not to slip in the wine spills. We learn about the grapes/raisins and the wines—white can be from either or both white and red raisins. For the white wines, the skins are removed from the raisins before pressing. In the past rosé was the final pressing--not so great--after the best of the juice was extracted for the reds. Recently, Provençal rosé has become increasingly appreciated locally and abroad, so now the first gentle pressing yields the rose--the quality is clear and fine and the color is the palest peach. Lovely. Then the raisins are pressed for the reds…

Château Roseline produces three levels of wine for a total 140,000 bottles a year. For the premiere wine--Cuvée Lampe de Meduse--the grapes are picked by hand, a requirement to qualify for the sought-after wine awards.

Correcting a misconception, we are told that wine acquires the subtle flavorings of chocolate, raspberry, nut, and other underlying tones solely from the oak barrels, with no influence from the fields and trees and earth that surrounds the vineyards.

After the tasting, our guide recounts the legend of Sainte Roseline and encourages us to visit the Chappelle where the saint’s fossilized body rests in a Plexiglas coffin. It seems that Sister Roseline witnessed a couple of miracles during her early life, and then was herself a miracle in death. The legend says that five years after her death, her relatives decided to dig her up and move her to the family plot, and when the casket was opened the body was completely intact. Eventually the miracle of her preservation received enough attention that she was declared a saint--her exhumed body remains--encased in Plexiglass--a visible sign of the phenomena. It is gross, but we took a very quick look before moving on.

It is nearly dusk as we drive pass the olive groves and vineyards and head south to Saint Tropez to view the playground of the rich and famous. Our little hatch-back curves and winds down toward the sea. We are wishing that there was enough light that we could appreciate the Mediterranean views, but the night lights of the seaside villages glitter welcoming from below.

We arrive and wander the streets working our way down to the docks to ooggle the big boats that sail under flags of France, Spain, Britain, etc. We window shop at the designe boutiques and soon find a small market and buy carrots and leaks for the chicken soup we will make later tonight. CA scouts out the perfect café and we cozy in for for coffee, hot chocolate, and thè.

SN1 delights in driving toward Mougins, up the narrow roads through switch backs with some excitingly, narrow misses. The city lights aginst the black, black sky are spectacular--Saint Tropez, Sainte-Maxime, Saint-Raphael.

We wind up the narrow roads to Club Mougins and end this special day with the perfect dinner of baguettes, cheese, fruit, and chocolate. Bonne Nuit.

DISCOVERING PROVENCE, part 5 or Aix is X

Aix is pronounced“X”...

I am the first up this morning and from our terrace there are still the twinkling lights of night as the sunrise falls softly over the mountain tops and valleys of Mougins and Grasse. The air is brisk but dry and there is the promise of sunshine. CA decides to dress quickly and join me on a walk into the village to the boulangerie for some real coffee—Illy this time. We buy a mushroom quiche, two pamliers, and an almond sable. We carry back an espresso for SN1 as SN2 enjoys tea.

Fortified, we head for the A8 and 25€40 in tolls [round trip] to Aix-en-Provence. Forever I have been intrigued by Provence, and almost forever I have wanted to visit Aix-en-Provence. I mean, who can resist a French city with such an interesting name.

Everyone who talks about Aix talks about the market, and that is today’s main attraction. The market extends from the Place de Verdun along the Place des Prêcheurs to the Hotel d’Ville. Every product’s origination is noted, and most are from Aix. We are offered artisanal cheese and a wide variety of sausage. We taste a lovely, unfiltered extra-virgin olive oil and delicious €60 for 100g fois gras. In addition to food and flowers, there are small antiques and cheaply-made imported textiles and clothing. We find a round Provençal tablecloth made in Avignon and look forward to entertaining at home with Mediterranean and Provençal recipes.

We stop in a boulangerie for directions to a suitable café. Mademoiselle speaks little English and I speak little French, but she makes herself understood and we wander deeper into the old city to find a plaza lined with restaurants and cafes. The plat du jour is rib eye steak with mushroom sauce and yummy pomme frites. I choose a morel omelet with a salad of mesclun with vinaigrette. Espresso is the grand finale and it is time we meander back through the winding, cobbled streets to the car.

A quick stop at Champion in Mougins for provisions, then two baguettes from our local boulangerie and we are home and ready to nibble and reflect, satisfied with our day. Tomorrow we will search out a few wineries and revisit Nice. Maybe San Remo in Italy on Thursday…

Bonne nuit.

DISCOVERING PROVENCE, part 4

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.