A Caprice in Cabris

Posted on July 11, 2016 by Catherine

Friday, June 24, 2016

Hi Journal. I’m sorry that I’ve been lacking in writing but I’m beginning to lose track of the days. I was thinking of  journals past and I’ve written volumes.  Now I’m afraid that I’m treating my journaling like a third child. You know—a million photos are taken of a first born; then a bit less with the second child. By the time the third child rolls around you have to search for the fewer photos you’ve taken.

I promise to write more next year.

Today we woke up to the news of the “Brexit”. The people of the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union.  This is bad. And I’m afraid it will affect voting in the USA. I don’t want Trump to be elected.

Wait! I’m not thinking about politics on this wonderful trip.

We’re going to laze by the pool today for a while.  There was a notice that due to a wedding, the pool will be closing at 2:30 this afternoon.  Can you imagine having your wedding here? I’m so pissed that I’m not wealthy. I want to have Oona’s wedding here one day.

Theoule. Pool My lazy ass feet at the pool

I take my favorite place at the pool. Luckily I have hearing like a dog and can listen to the conversations of the wedding party.  And pretend that my daughter, Oona, is going to have HER wedding here someday. I better start that diet now!

If only Oona knew what I was thinking she would beg Bonaparte to have me committed.

At the pool, wedding guests were bragging about the celebrations. I was eavesdropping on what the women were going to wear. I was also eavesdropping on where some guests were going after the wedding festivities. One couple was going to spend eight weeks touring throughout Europe.  I’m jealous!

After soaking the sun under an umbrella, we up and left to change.  We decided to take a drive to Cabris!

Theoule. Me. OOTD. White J. Crew dress which I wore constantly BLOG GOLD

Outfit of the afternoon. It’s about time I put some real clothes on! I’m wearing this years-old shift from J. Crew. This white dress is perfect for the weather on the Cote d’Azur. It’s cotton and breathes!

Cabris holds a special place for Bonaparte  because his daughter spent many summers with her grandparents there.

Cabris. View from above

View from the village of Cabris. It’s located higher up in the mountains so the views never fail to please. Sorry about the date on the camera. I was messing around a bit and ..well–you know!

Cabris. Me in the dopey cheapo sunglasses that ended up being the greatest purchase.

I’m mighty high here!

The lapsed bad Catholic girl in my loves visiting Cabris because every year I get to see the statue of Saint Rita and pray to her for money, a job, Botox, a winning Lottery ticket—things that nice girls shouldn’t even think of. But somehow old St. Rita takes my pleas with a grain of salt and pays me no mind.

Cabris. Back to see St. Rita. She looks annoyed

St. Rita. Every year I visit her. Every year I ask more more and more. She’s not looking to happy with me…

Cabris. Back to see the altar at the chapelle of St. Rita

..I also stop to pause for reflection by the altar at the little chapel and every year I take the same picture.

In the past, we’ve been to this charming little village when the heat index was supernatural. Hell was cooler.

This year, surprisingly, the weather was rather comfortable. Maybe around low 90’s with zero humidity.   As usual the drive was pleasant, and even more pleasant was the fact that we got a parking space under the shade of trees.   Actually parking in Cabris is always good.

Cabris is little village and one of those places that just seems to take a baby step back in time.  The homes are cute and well-maintained.  There isn’t a lot of hustle and bustle.

Cabris. Decorations outside the house.

Houses are adorned with cute decorations..

Cabris. Curved street

..and the narrow streets, which are more like passageways, are lined with homes..

Cabris. Little orange trees

Trees with little oranges line the way..

Cabris another shot of purple chairs

…..people can keep stuff outside of their homes and it won’t get stolen..

Cabris. Another cute table and chair GOLD

…grab a seat and watch the world go by….

Cabris. sleeping cat at front door. GOLD

…or be like this cat and take a nap outside

Bonaparte said that it’s pretty much the same now as it was thirty years ago.

Cabris. House

I love the cushioned bench.

Cabris. Church

..an old church that never seems to be open..

Cabris. Auberge

..a restaurant and auberge..

Cabris. Street scene

Another building..

We also took time out to visit an adorable little galerie that I had seen for a couple of years, but it was never opened when we passed by.  I’m so happy that we were in Cabris when the galerie was opened.

Atelier Galerie Lulu.

Cabris. Atelier Galerie Lulu sign

We’ve passed by in previous years, but this was the year we finally entered the studio. Atelier LuLu is named for Lulu the artist’s cat!

Cabris. ATelier galerie lulu. Where is Lulu

…shhhhh. Lulu is sleeping. Or hiding from me.

Seriously. This galerie is the greatest little studio/galerie I’ve been in.  The outside is inviting and there is a little bench with books that you can have. Well—just to have!  The owner/operator/artist in residence is Olivier Buccellato. Olivier is quite the handsome Frenchman AND he is incredibly creative and talented.

Cabris. Olivier the artist at work and play

Olivier Buccellato at work.  I would like to introduce him to Oona!

The atelier is pretty much dedicated to his cat, Lulu!

Cabris. Lulu. Free books.

How can you not love a studio that gives out free books??

I was glad that Olivier allowed me to take photos of the place.   I wish Olivier the best of luck with his galerie because it is such fun, funky and pleasant.  You know how you walk into a place and you get this vibe that it’s just a good, good place to be in? Yeah. That’s how Atelier Galerie Lulu is.  If you ever get the chance to visit Cabris, definitely stop by the Galerie. You just may get to see Lulu too!

Cabris. Lulu interior shot

The inside of Atelier Lulu.  This is the perfect place to curl up with a good book on a rainy day!

Cabris. Atelier Galerie Lulu. Books on the ceiling

Maybe it rains books sometimes. Olivier said that he attaches books that he isn’t crazy about on the ceiling.  That’s a good thing because I trash books I don’t like!Cabris Atelier Galerie d'art Lulu Print of lulu

I’m really diggin’ Olivier’s work. Lulu!

Cabris. Atelier Lulu. Lulu!

A closer look.

Cabris. More Atelier lulu

More Lulu inspired artwork..

Cabris. Atelier Lulu

So glad we entered into this galerie!

Cabris. Lulu Business card

Don’t forget to visit the galerie when you are in Cabris!

Cabris is always a pleasure to visit. It is always slightly sleepy and there is a certain sense of ease with the people who live and work there. My guess is that St. Rita likes to watch over them.

Cabris. Back to see Saint Rita.

She’s glad that I’m gone for another year. She told that little statue so.

We enjoyed another long dinner on the terrace. Tonight we had one of the great little chickens that the French roast so well. The flavor packs a punch.  A salad of tomato, mozzarella, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with basil, salt and pepper was perfect for this hot summer evening.

Food. Theoule. Apartment Kir royales on the terrace.

Aperitifs on the terrace before…

Food. Roast chicken on the terrace.

…delicious, cold, roti chicken…and

Food. Tomato, Moss. Basil. Canot get enough

Tomato and Mozzarella.

Nighty night! Tomorrow we have a rather ambitious schedule. Eze. Menton. And Monaco.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I leave you with one of my favorite songs by Michel Polnareff:   La Poupee Qui Fait Non.  It’s very Ye-ye!

 

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Do You Know The Way To St. Tropez?

Posted on July 10, 2016 by Catherine

Thursday, June 23, 2016

 6:15 AM and waking up to clear skies!  Today we are going to St. Tropez. It will be the first of two visits.  We’re going next week to visit Bonaparte’s dad but today we are going to St. Trop to run an important errand—my Rondini purchase.

I got hooked on these sandals a few years back.  The sandals are custom fit and constructed in the little studio in the rear of the shop.  As with great leather, the sandals conform to the shape of your foot with wear and become even more comfortable over the years.  There is literally no “break in” time either.

And, for the price, it is a far better deal than you can get with the mass-produced sandals sold at retail stores in the States.

More on Rondini later.

Theoule. Me. Ready for st. trop. OOTD BLOG GOLD

Appropriately dressed for St. Trop!  Striped shirt, white shorts and Rondini Tropezienne sandals!  No. I don’t look like a local. I’m a poser!

My OOTD for St. Tropez is white shorts from J. Crew, my Tropezienne sandals by Rondini and a striped boat neck tee also from J. Crew.  I’m looking very old-school St. Trop today. Either that or I’m looking like a complete tourist who is trying too hard to fit in!

We decided to drive all the way rather than park the car in Ste. Maxime and take the water bus over.  Because it was still not quite high season, the thought was that traffic from Ste. Maxime to St. Tropez wouldn’t be that bad.  Well. It was that bad.  Tons of campers both on their way to and from St. Tropez.  They must have been preparing for the opening of the popular French film Camping 3 and getting their inner Patrick Chirac on!

Camping David Chirach

Franck Dubosc as Patrick Chirac, the hero of the popular French Camping movies. Camping 3 premiered while we were visiting. I wanted to see the movie so badly but guess who didn’t?  I’ve seen the first two and they were hysterically funny! I did NOT take this photo.

Our timing was perfect though, as we arrived to park the car at 9:15. Arriving by car early in St. Tropez means a good parking space.  We got one!  And we made our way across the lot over to the port for a nice walk before heading over to Rondini.

St. Trop. First Visit. View from the other side of the port

Early morning in St. Tropez. On the side of the port opposite the mega-yachts.

Artists setting up shop at the docks.  Tourists arriving.  Yacht crews off to purchase flowers.  Vendors in delivery trucks trying to maneuver their way in the narrow streets.  Little boutiques getting ready to open and sell their wares to the many visitors.

All part of the mornings in St. Tropez.

Shopping St. Tropez Rondini store hours BLOG GOLD

Hmmm. I see Rondini is open on Sunday now!

We arrived at Rondini just as the shop opened.  I’ve got this exact timing down.  Arriving later means waiting on a line that does, many times, go out the door and onto the street that is more like a passageway!

Shopping St. Tropez Rondini

I’m back at my favorite store in St. Tropez!

There are three models of sandals I want to choose from.  The Serpent, the St. Raphael Braided, and the Bikini were the choices.

serpent

Photo of the Serpent model from Rondini’s website. I love the look but the look didn’t love me.

I tried the Serpent on first. It was a no-go. The sandal just did not look good on my foot.  The St. Raphael braided was next and I loved the way the sandal looked, but the bottom was just too wide.  The Bikini was getting my love because not only did it look great, but felt so comfortable.

Shopping St. Tropez. Rondini. Which do I choose

St. Raphael on the left. The Bikini on the right.  The Bikini won out. And I love them. LOVE them. I think they are my favorite pair so far!  The bottom of the sandals are always powdered before trying on. I think it is so that the natural oils of the skin won’t mark the sandal.

Shopping St. Tropez. Rondinis and wythe hotel tote

My well-worn Tropeziennes awaiting for their new arrival!

Bonaparte liked the St. Raphael.  But because my feet are so narrow, (Why can’t the rest of me be narrow?) it would take another week to have the sandals made to my fit.  Besides, my mind was made up the second I saw the Bikini sandal on my foot!

Shopping St. Tropez. Sandals on display be still my heart.

Perhaps next year I’ll get the metallic Bikinis…

Shopping St. Tropez Rondini a peek into the studio

As I write this I’m looking to the far left and thinking maybe I need a Rondini tote bag instead! See the studio where the magic happens?  I love this store. It smells like leather!

This customer left very happy with her purchase! Until next summer….

Bonaparte also wanted a Provençal style tablecloth for a little table in our kitchen.  We had been searching throughout Cannes and found one in St. Tropez just up the street from Rondini on Rue Clemenceau. The shop is Marinette and it is one of three on the same street.  The fabrics and table linens are not only beautiful, but are actually priced incredibly well.

Shopping. St. Tropez. Marinette. Fabrics and tablecloths.

Our tablecloth on the counter at Marinette. Waiting to come home with us!

Shopping Tablecloth detail. Made in France.

The detail is beautiful. And we all know how much I love red!  Bonaparte was happy to purchase “made in France”!

Shopping. Tablecloth

And now, the table in our little nook off the kitchen can remind us of our most recent trip to France! It looks great–doesn’t it?

Travel Shopping Tip: Be careful when it comes to purchases. Many tourist “boutiques” and shopping stands that sell souvenirs also sell goods that may appear “authentic” French. Like Provençal style table linens and other home goods.  However, many are made in China and not in France.  We discovered this in Cannes.  When we asked if a certain tablecloth we liked was made in France, the associate couldn’t give us a direct answer.  Look for the “made in France” tags.  Our authentic tablecloth was purchased at Marinette. It was a bit pricier at 37€ as opposed to 10€ for the one made in China. But the workmanship and the fabric were much better.    St. Tropez has some excellent shopping!

Travel Shopping Tip 2: Don’t forget to bring a heavy fabric tote with you on your travels.  The fabric totes fold up neatly in luggage and will even fold in your purse.  The Wythe Hotel tote that was gifted to me is my favorite. I take it EVERYWHERE and it carries everything from groceries, bottles of wine, and purchases that we make when shopping. Save the straw and structured totes for home. Use the heavy fabric ones for travel.

We took a walk over to La Ponche, the beach and small fishing boat area where Bonaparte’s grandmother lived. It was also the place where Bonaparte lived when he was a very young boy and later on where he spent summers of his childhood.

St. Tropez first visit path to La Ponche from the back

A passage leading to La Ponche…

St. Tropez. First visit. OOTD striped shirt white shorts old tropeziennes. I'm at La Ponche

On the way to the rocky beach. I should have worn my bathing suit!

St. Tropez. first visit. La Ponche from the walkway

A view from the edge of the long dock area. Bonaparte’s grandmother’s house is the tall one.

St. Tropez. first visit La Ponche sandy beach

The little beach remains uncrowded for the most part..

St. Tropez. First visit. Another view of La Ponce

…another view from the opposite side.

La Ponche. 1946. Bonaparte and Isabelle. Quite possibly the cutest pic ever

Bonaparte and his sister Isabelle. La Ponche 1947 or 46. He can’t remember. It was way before my time! I think this may be the cutest photograph ever!

St. Tropez 1946. Bonaparte with stick in the water at laponche

Bonaparte at the rocky water’s edge in La Ponche. La “Ouch”!

St. Trop. More Dany evie pregnant and bonaparte 1945

Bonaparte, his father Dany, and pregnant mother Evie. La Ponche 1945.

St. Trop. Maybe 1930ish. Bonaparte's grandmother Muse

Bonaparte’s grandmother, Muse, hanging out on a boat in St. Tropez…

St. Tropez. Port. Bonaparte's grandmother

…and looking casual chic by the fishing boats. Check out her shoes!

St. Tropez. Fish at the market

As we head off to see Bonaparte’s grandmother’s old house we pass the fish mongers and their goodies…

St. Tropez. Senequier Nougat

My favorite–Cuttlefish before it becomes Seiche!  They aren’t much to look at, and you can see they aren’t plentiful, but boy do they taste great!

St. Tropez. First visit the street where he lived

On the street where Bonaparte and Muse lived..

St. Tropez first visit. alley

..and we take a small alley back to the port.

Stopping for a Citron Préssé has always been part of our routine too.  I get to order in French while Bonaparte looks on with a critical eye—and when the waiter is impressed, Bonaparte’s eyes become proud!

Senequier. Where the beautiful peeps have breakfast. I'm not one of them.

We had our citron presse across from Senequier. And I’m in so much trouble because I forgot the nougat for my girlfriend Becky. I’m so ashamed.

Activity abound. Police telling drivers they cannot park.  The chic. The trashy. The new monied and the old monied St. Tropez residents walk by with their dogs and packages.  Families and couples with babies in strollers stop to stare in awe at the magnificent yachts.

St. Tropez early morning. By the yachts. Note the casual clothing

Everyone loves to stop and take long looks at the yachts..

St. Trop. Bonaparte's ship has come in

Little dinghies like this have taken the place of fishing boats!

Bonaparte complains that St. Tropez was better when it was just a little fishing village.

St. Tropez 1945. Boats in the little harbor. Before the Yachts came

This is how Bonaparte fondly remembers St. Tropez. Small fishing boats and a port voided of yachts. It’s so peaceful. I think Bonaparte mentioned that his family also discovered St. Trop along with L’Estagnol!  MY family discovered that yelling is more effective than speaking softly.

The scent of oil from the boats mixed with the sea makes a fine cocktail for the senses.  The hum of motorboats in the water and the “putt-putt” sound of boats coming into port to dock make me smile because they are the sounds of summertime in St. Trop!

St. Tropez. First visit. Hermes in the distance.

We pass Hermes as we make our way back to the car.

St. Trop. Ad for cinema musee that we never got to see

We also pass this poster for the new Musee de la Gendarmerie et du Cinema. A museum celebrating the famous and funny Gendarme films that were shot in and around St. Tropez along with other films that were shot in the area. I wanted to go but we never had time–even on our second visit to see Dany.  Next year. Next year! I want this poster.

The air is hot and it isn’t the middle of day yet.   At 11:30 AM we head back to the car.  Our time here is done until next week.

We took a lazy ride back along the Bord de Mer, the seaside road, and decided to drive into Antibes.  Just because.

When we arrived in Antibes, we parked the car and took a nice walk along the ramparts.

Antibes. Along the ramparts

An afternoon walk along the ramparts in Antibes is always a good choice..

Antibes Zoomed harbor

Antibes offers tons of photo ops and a great bay!

ANtibes bay from the ramparts GOLD

The bay from the ramparts. Check out the blue water. 

Antibes yacht

We can’t escape the yachts.  How can we get an invite aboard?

Antibes boats on bay

Another view from the ramparts. Clear and calm water greet us.

Antibes. more from the ramparts

A closer view. Antibes is one of my favorite places to do nothing but enjoy the scenery.

Antibes. One of my favorite homes

My favorite house in Antibes. Maybe next year I’ll ring the doorbell to see if anyone is home.

Antibes. This is either a stone house or the side of the Picasso Musee

Another beautiful home

Antibes. Old school lavoire

An old-school “lavior” behind the ramparts.

Antibes. Cute little house off the ramparts

A cute hidden home behind the ramparts on a quiet street.

ANtibes. Stone Home GOLD

Another stone home. I love these houses so much.

Antibes. Church

The church in town. We couldn’t go in because there was a funeral mass going on.

Antibes sculpture

And a sculpture in front of the Musee Picasso. We didn’t visit the Musee this time. We’ve gone in the past though. It’s a good place to visit, but I don’t think it is worth it to revisit every year. The building has an interesting history!

Well, that’s it for today. Tomorrow will bring another adventure. For now. I just want to relax on the terrace, have a nice dinner and sleep soundly!

Sorry about all the pics and the lack of writing. I didn’t write in my journal as much as I should have!

Speaking of Bonaparte’s family. Here’s his nephew Jean on guitar with another rendition of my favorite Michel Delpech song “Pour un Flirt”! Enjoy XOXOXOXO!!!

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Hidden France–L’Estagnol. The Greatest Little Beach On Earth.

Posted on July 9, 2016 by Catherine

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The alarm was set for 6:15 this morning and went off good and loud!  I can’t waste time in bed. Today we are returning to the greatest beach in France! No. The greatest beach on earth—L’Estagnol!

Lestagnol. The return and the sign BLOG GOLD

The best beach ever! 

The first time Bonaparte took me to this gem of fine sand and clear sea was when his mom had a home in Ensuès la Redonne—a little village outside of Marseille.   L’Estagnol is also a beach where Bonaparte spent a great amount of time during the summers of his youth when his family visited Cabasson. In fact, Bonaparte reminds me quite often that his family discovered L’Estagnol (just like Christopher Columbus discovered America)!

Bonaparte and isabelle at lestagnol

Columbus had three ships when HE went to discover America.  Bonaparte’s family had a Citroen when they discovered L’Estagnol!

Bonaparte with jean etc at cabbbbbb

Bonaparte’s stepfather, Jean Casadesus, explaining to the kids how they will go on to discover the greatest beach! I think Bonaparte is more interested in the food!

It is about an hour-and-a-half’s drive from the apartment in Théoule. And when leaving early in the morning, you beat the traffic and can enjoy the sights along the way.

Any, I did wake up a bit nauseous due to all the wine I’ve been drinking! Vacation means drinking during the weekdays. I just cannot handle that anymore.  I’ll stick to cidre!  A glass of Alka-Seltzer helped settle my stomach—thanks to Dr. Bonaparte, and we hit the road!

Actually another chocolat chaud at Mc Do was the real cure!

And listening to Nostalgie radio in the car, I discovered a new favorite song:  “Bad Boys” by two of my favorite singers—Laurent Voulzy and Alain Souchon.  I tell you, I’m still singing it in my head!

Once we exited the highway and started driving on the smaller roads, our route was full of charm and spectacular views.

Vineyards and Olive trees lined the way.

L'estagnol. Leoube vineyards.

The views are so pretty….

We arrived at L’Estagnol around 9 AM.   There is a 9€ charge for parking, making the beach a bit more private.  And the grounds leading to the beach are shaded by the surrounding trees, making it a bit cooler and more “parked car” friendly.

There is a little area where children can take donkey and horse rides.

L'estagnol. Ride with the asses. I would have done it for free.

If you have children with you and want a break from the beach–have a ride on an ass. I don’t mean MINE silly!

L'estagnol. The asses are not as big as mine

Yet another form of life that ignores me and keeps on eating!

L'estagnol. Little Goat that liked me.

This guy took a look at my Scholl’s sandals and ran to me. Not to greet me but to munch on my footwear. Good thing I wasn’t wearing my Rondini’s–or I would have had him for dinner–and not as a guest!

And L’Estagnol holds a special place in my memory bank because it was the first time I swam without my top on!  I’ll have to do that again when I lose weight!

The trees in the back end of the sandy shore remind me of the beaches I’ve been to in Australia—but without the waves!

L'estagnol. Blog gold for the pic.

The trees give shade when you’ve had enough of the sun!

There are no rocks on this beach either!  This is an important little fact. Many of the beaches, east of Nice, along the Côte d’Azur are quite rocky and if you aren’t a fan of stepping into water with a bed of small and not-so-small rocks, L’Estagnol is your kind of beach!

L'estagnol. Another soothing pic.

Look how calm the water is!

The beach really is the true definition of pristine. The water is so crystal clear that the fish swimming by are in full and bright sight!

L'estagnol. My feet in the crystal clear water

The water is so clear. I’m sorry I forgot to take a pic of the little fish!

The “waves” are so tiny. Like “leetle small boned French pipoule”. In fact, the water’s only motion is the little waves created by the gentle rocking of boats in the nearby distance!

L'estagnol Surfs up! Get Brice du Nice.

The little waves are caused by the gentle rocking of boats..unless the Mistral decides to pay a visit! 

Brice de nice

Brice de Nice. The only man who has ever attempted surfing in these calm teeny-waved waters!  (BTW, if you are looking for a hilarious French film, might I suggest Brice de Nice written by and starring Jean Dujardin!

Bonapartes sister agynes at L'Esterel

1957. L’Estagnol. Bonaparte’s sister Agnes. Look how far out she is. What a pleasure!

L'estagnol. Fun in the water

2016. L’Estagnol. Look how far out these bathers are and the water is just barely to their knees!

You can walk out into the water forever, still see the bottom of the sea’s floor and still not go over your head—every woman’s hair dream!

And this early in the morning we finally heard the chant of cicadas.  I do believe their chant was a welcome song and they were extremely happy to see us return!

L'Estagnol. Nice view

A nice view from the rocky trails that Bonaparte snapped. Hey. I’m not walking over there–my clumsiness is too strong a force!

Bonaparte family photos. L'Estangol 1957L’Estagnol. Tree in the water. 1954 (photo by Bonaparte’s family)

L'Estagnol. Trees almost to the spot where bonapartes parents took pics.

L’Estagnol. June 2016. An almost identical pic taken by Bonaparte!

The sound of a helicopter flying low for a nearby landing joins in the with the cicadas.  Bonaparte tells me that Francois Hollande’s “summer” home is just over the group of trees to our left and the helicopter is most likely landing there.  Is Hollande on strike too?

L'Estagnol. Leoube Boutique

Or perhaps Hollande is trying to escape the headlines in the papers!

People start to arrive.  Bonaparte tells me that mostly locals are here. He can tell by their accents.  Just like in the States, the Southern accent is different from other areas of France.  German and British accents also dot the coast.  I don’t hear any other American voices.

L'estagnol. Getting ready to paddle

More people arrive and enjoy the water. He may not be a surfer like Brice, but this guy was paddling all day!

The scent of flowers can be caught during one of the frequent breezes and it is sweet and pleasant and smells beautiful when it is mixed with the scent of salt water.

The water is freezing but so refreshing. Bonaparte won’t join me because he won’t swim in a freezing sea.

As I stand in the water I see young children who are fascinated by two large fish swimming by.  I’m intrigued by the school of minnows circling my feet.  To my right is an older man walking in the water for his morning exercise. THIS is my kind of gym! He is also reading the morning paper as he walks. Multitasking at its best.

L'Estagnol. Swimming with the boats

Boats floating nearby, children enjoying the refreshing water.  It’s a great place!

To my rear is a young mother running after her naked toddler. She is trying to slather sunscreen on him and he is having nothing of it. He just wants to frolic in the soft sand. It brings back memories of when my own kids were young!

Within an hour the little beach is full of life.  Guys playing soccer are out of harms and bathers’ way.

People with their floating devices relax atop the water because they know large waves and a strong current will not bring them drifting out to sea.

L'estagnol. Best baby on the beach.A dad with his son enjoying the fun!

If we lived in a perfect world, all beaches would be like L’Estagnol!

Bonaparte walked up to a menu standing on a wooden cabinet by the steps leading down to the beach. He saw my favorite seafood “seiche” on the menu. (Cuddlefish).  He surprised me by making reservations for lunch.

L'estagnol. Restaurant Chez Richard logo sign

Our lunch was enjoyed here!

What more could I ask for on this perfect day?

L'Estagnol. Restaurant Chez Richard snack area

Barefoot and on our way to a fun and delicious lunch!

Food. Chez Richard Seiche la planca 1

My Seiche La Plancha. Grilled Seiche. I sucked every bit of this like a vacuum cleaner! The seiche was perfectly grilled. The gourgette and eggplant were the best I’ve ever had. Hell, I even wolfed down the salad! 

Food. Chez Richard Salade Nicoise

Bonaparte enjoyed his Salade Nicoice!

Later on we made our way up the steps and into the restaurant, Chez Richard.  The restaurant, rustic and homey, was a true beachy place for a delicious lunch of my beloved seiche.  Bonaparte enjoyed a Salade Niçoise.  My first reaction to my meal was the huge portion. Like a glutton, I ate the entire thing.  *burp* And I enjoyed every. last. morsel!

And, eating lunch outdoors in my bathing suit was everything I dreamed of. The vibe is so casual that you don’t have to cover up if you don’t want to.  Diners in swimsuits. Diners in cover ups. Diners dressed in ensembles. It’s all good!

After lunch, it’s back down to the beach for a bit of a lazy half sleep.   How come the sound of the sea’s water hitting the shore’s edge is so relaxing, calming, and mesmerizing, but the sound of water dripping from a faucet is annoying and causes anxiety? I’m such a deep thinker.

L'estagnol. Necessities. Hat. Scholls. Tote, towel and longchamp. BLOG GOLD

Still life with my beach accessories!  A ten-year old Vera Bradley beach towel that we take along to France every year. My raggy old Longchamp bag.  Scholl’s sandals. My trusty Wythe Hotel tote and my three-buck sun hat from Walmart! I’m Cote d’Azur chic–in a beach bum way!

Back home to another dinner on the terrace, and while watching the news we find out that plastic bags will be banned in France starting July 1st.  The country is going back to a paper-bag only policy.  I hope we do that in the States.

Bonne Nuit!

BTW. Here’s Laurent Voulzy and Alain Souchon with my new favorite song: “Bad Boys”. (Thank you YaDuMondeBalcon for a great video!)

 

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On The Abbaye Road…

Posted on July 8, 2016 by Catherine

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

I woke up at 6:30 AM today while Bonaparte slept soundly.  Apparently between 6:30 and 7:00 AM is the only window of time where I can get Wi-Fi on my iPhone.

In addition, I received a phone call from a number in Long Island.  My voicemail isn’t working either. So now I don’t know if someone died or got injured. Maybe it was a wrong number.

Remind me to make like ET and leave my “phone home” next summer.

Anway, it’s partly cloudy today. Since we’ve both been out in the sun or rather one of us who hasn’t been sitting under the umbrella and not in the sun for the past few days, we figured it would be a good idea to play tourist.

We’re going back to the Abbaye du Thoronet.  The Abbaye, better known simply as “Thoronet”, was a home for the Cistercian monks back in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Thoronet Tarif sign. GOLD

If you are thinking about visiting–here’s the lowdown on the tarifs!

Our Abbaye Road will be the ones along the coast to St. Raphaël and then we’ll switch over to the highway.  Thoronet is such a peaceful and calm place to visit.  The grounds are beautiful and we’ve both wanted to return.

We stopped for gas at Total and headed into the McDonald’s that is on-site. Or rather we headed into the Mc Do, as the French refer to this fast food bastion.  Don’t judge either!

Food Breakfast on the road mc do. GOLD

Yes. THIS is what breakfast at McDonald’s in France looks like..note the warning on the coffee and hot chocolate…

Food. Mcdonalds display GOLD

My other regret is that I didn’t purchase a “‘Eppy Meal”. I could have gotten some cute toys!  Check out the baked goodies!!

Travel Tip: Don’t dismiss McDonald’s when you are in France.  I’m not telling you to eat all your meals there. But for a quick breakfast when you are on the road and want a cup of coffee or a croissant, Mc Do delivers the goods.  It’s a different animal than here in the States.  Regulations must be followed strictly. The pastries are of very good quality and the chocolat chaud is superior.  There is also free “wee-fee” available. 

Just as I started washing my hands in the very clean and spotless ladies room, the water gushed out of the faucet and all over my dress.  I keep forgetting that the water pressure in France is quite amazing and comes out full force!  Remember that for future visits!

We are ready to get into the car and I spot the latest issue of Charlie Hebdo. Donald Trump is on the cover. Can’t I get away from this man’s face for at least two weeks?  But in true Hebdo form, they are making fun of him.  We buy the paper!

Charlie Hebdo trump cover GOLD

They could have made him a bit more l’orange! PS. What he is saying is not nice! 

The return to Thoronet was a bit disappointing.  The first time around we were able to go into the olive tree orchard and enter into little areas of quiet gardens. We were also able to go around to the back of the abbaye to take photos.

This time, gates were locked and visitor space was limited. Oh well, we were still able to take some nice photos.  Warning–pic heavy!

Thoronet Exterior view side

Exterior view. Notice the lack of people–that’s what makes this a good place to visit. It’s a hidden gem of France!

Thoronet flowers up the steps

Pretty steps..

Thoronet Frescoed ceiling. GOLD

..incredible to see that this ceiling still has remains of paintings from the 12th century..that’s some long-lasting paint..

Thoronet Mary and baby jesus. I'm guessing this is relatively new

…this statue of Mary and Jesus looks too modern to be that old. I’m wondering if this was added much later on. I’ll do some sleuthing.

Thoronet Window GOLD

View from a window out to the grounds

Thoronet. Another steeple view

Another view

Thoronet. Better courtyard view

The courtyard from above. Isn’t this building beautiful?

Thoronet. Church

The inside of the church. Even if you are not Catholic or a believer, THIS is a great place for quiet reflection and thought. 

Thoronet. Do you think monks wore Tropeziennes GOLD

I felt like a monk in my sandals. Do you think the monks wore Rondini sandals?  As an aside–if you DO visit this abbaye or any other attraction or place that has the slippery stones and tiles, by all means–wear shoes with strong soles. The leather soles on the bottom of these sandals were perfect because I didn’t slip or slide. You do not want to hurt yourself while enjoying the sights!

Thoronet. Exterior shot taken from under the trees

Another exterior view. 

Thoronet. Fountain in the rocks

A little fountain…

Thoronet. Fountain

..and another fountain.  I’m sure this one got a ton of use from the monks many centuries ago.

Thoronet. I wore the same dress last time I was here.

Again–a naked face except for the eyes.  It’s amazing how well a blow out lasts in dry weather. The hair still looks great!

Thoronet. Me. Well Rounded

OOTD. More like OOT Every D.  This shift of seasons past from Banana Republic was a “go-to” on this trip. It also has bode well for my weight gain.  My years-old, raggy Longchamp bag was also used every day.  

Thoronet. Passageway

A quiet passage.  Look how bright and immaculate the stones are.

Thoronet. Ruins among the abbaye

Among the historical ruins.

Thoronet. Snails

Escargot in training. 

Thoronet. Stained glass window

Stained glass window.

Thoronet. View from courtyard

Another view of the courtyard.

Thoronet. view from the terrace.

And another pic..

Still, if you are in the Var or anywhere on the Cote d’Azur on vacation, by all means make it a point to see the remains of this once thriving abbey.  There’s a chance we just returned on a bad day!

Bonaparte, ever the navigator, thought he knew a shortcut to somewhere when we left. I have no idea what somewhere he spoke of because his accent is now sooooo heavy that I’m begging him to just speak French. I can understand him better that way.

The “shortcut” ended up bringing us a great, great surprise.

We ended up in Draguignan. And in driving through the village center I noticed a sign. It was a sign for the American Cemetery.  During WWII many soldiers landed in towns along the Cote d’Azur.  Draguignan was one of them.

We followed the signs, got a parking space immediately and made our way to pay our respects.

Draguignan. Rhone American Cemetary GOLD

Another hidden gem.  Rhone American Cemetery in Draguignan

This little side trip that we stumbled upon was almost as emotional as our visit to Normandy Beach.  The amount of soldiers buried was not a small one.  And it broke my heart to read where so many of these young men were from.

Draguignan. American Cemetery 2

We paid our respects in an impeccable setting.

Draguignan. Tombstone of soldier with memorial flowers GOLD

It was  nice to see that flowers are still being placed at these graves

Draguignan. American Cemetary. Grave stone. Amann from New York.

We thank you Alfred Amann for giving up your life so selflessly.

It also broke my heart that they died thinking the atrocities during that war would never happen again.  We, as humans, just don’t learn—do we?  Look at our world today. So much hate and anger. Wars that are falsely declared by politicians who only want power.  Men who try to lead on fear. It’s awful.

A memorial is also on the grounds. I’m telling you when I went into that building, I cried. I cried because during WWII men and women gave up their lives so selflessly.  And to pay them back, we’ve regressed…

Draguignan. Makeshift chapel of sorts GOLD

In the memorial. Solace.

Draguignan. American Cemetary memorial Thanks from locals

One of the many illustrations and notes that local people and visitors left at the memorial. Never forget–but we did and continue to do so.

Thank you, France. Thank you for placing our soldiers in eternal rest in such a beautiful setting. Thank you for remembering them so fondly.  Thank you American government for maintaining the grounds so impeccably.  It is nice to see our tax dollars being put to very good use.

Our last stop on this now sunny day was a trip to FNAC in Cannes.   There is an important need to add to my collection of French pop music.  I got lucky!

Shopping. 2016 CDs.

I cannot stop listening. All CD’s have been uploaded to the computer and are now in my car.  I’ll have memories of this trip every time I listen…

We also spotted a film starring Danièle and also starring Jean Gabin!  It was like another sign from her that she was watching over us. We bought it because we don’t have it at home.

Danieles movie with jean gabin at FNAC

Danièle looks so serious! I think it is because she had to watch out for naughty Jean Gabin!

Gossipy French Movie Trivia: During one of my stays with Danièle, I mentioned that I loved Jean Gabin.  Her eyes almost popped out of her head. She told me that when she was in a film with him, he wanted to sleep with her and she refused.  The above is the film she spoke of!  He got really angry at her. She also said he had bad breath.  It was so funny. I did tell her that I still loved him as an actor!

Demain tout Commence!

Here’s a beautiful song by Florent Pagny “Le Soldat”….

Posted in Abbaye du Thoronet, American Cemetery in France | Tagged , , , | 27 Comments

Summer Has Arrived in France!

Posted on July 6, 2016 by Catherine

Monday, June 20, 2016.

Today is the first day of summer. I should be jumping for joy because the weather is gloriously beautiful. But after today, the days become shorter. And shorter.

Am I the only one out there who can turn summer’s welcome into misery??? Once again, Bonaparte is beaming with pride that I can manipulate what is quite possibly the happiest day of the year into the most depressing.  He told me so. His words: “Ou ahr zee étoile of zee miserable”.  (Translation. “You are the star of the miserable”!) He also said I’m now almost 100 percent French. In theory.

Personally, I see myself more as “Étoile de la mer” The star of the sea!

The InfoVisual.info site uses images to explain objects.

Come to think of it, I AM pretty much L’Etoile de mer. Our bodies are almost the same. She even wears bras!

I’m putting my bathing suit on and hoping that my gut isn’t sticking out too much! Oh wait. It is.  I act so French as I tilt my head to the side and give a huge shrug to my reflection. At 61 years old, does it really matter if my gut sticks out or not? At least if a shark gets to me, he will have a nice chunk of meaty humanness!

Theoule. Me Bikini shot. BLOG GOLD

What would Virginia, the girl who sells bathing suits at the pool, think of my cheapo bikini.  The top was eight bucks from Target and the bottom was five bucks from Walmart. I’m a regular fashion plate!

Sorry to sound boring, but we’re going back to the pool. Despite my pleas of going to the beach, Bonaparte has explained to me that Monday is not a good beach day here on the Riviera because all the people who worked during the weekend are off on Monday and therefore the beaches will be crowded.

L'Estagnol. Morning sun worshipers

NOTE:  This is a picture of L’estagnol beach that I snapped the following MONDAY.  You call this a crowd?  Just sayin’! ( I will be posting about this spectacular beach–stay tuned!)

It’s weird because Bonaparte’s accent is getting heavier and he’s starting to speak to me in French—as though I am fluent!!  I’m fluent in ordering food and my shoe size and cursing in the French language.  It’s cool though.  I happen to like the way he is more relaxed and animated when we’re in France. He is definitely happier when he’s speaking in his native tongue!

Upon arriving at the pool we noticed there were little guests who must have smuggled themselves in for an early morning dip in the water.

Theoule. Pool. Entitled ducks.

Three little quackers to greet us!

Three little ducks!  I hope they don’t leave any bodily functions behind.  Better yet, they better hope the chef from the Club’s restaurant doesn’t see them. Duck confit could very well end up on the menu tonight!

Theoule. Pool. Ducks.

And they seemed to be making themselves quite at home in this pool!

I need to make sure those sitting ducks leave this pool. After all, we Americans invaded Normandy and helped to save the French from the Nazis.

Theoule. Ducks. Now there drinking the water

I was afraid that the middle one would drink all the pool water!

I invaded the pool and saved the visitors from being attacked  by this dangerous army of ducks! They fled after I came at them with my camera!  I’m not that kind of hunter little duckies!

It doesn’t take much time until more people show up. Families arrived last night. It’s nice to see the pool full of people rather than full of wild life!

Over by the diving board is a young girl who is having a panic attack because she won’t jump in the water.  Her brother tries to encourage her.  Ten minutes of this young girl standing on the diving board, twelve feet above the water and screaming in her adorable British accent  that she can’t jump is starting to get on my last nerve. Where is this one’s parents?  Are they deaf? Did they take this opportunity to start guzzling wine by the bottle?

Theoule. Pool. More view

The diving board where Tarzan’s daughter was attempting to jump is to the far left. The plank is hidden by the trees. Just imaging the screaming!

My reading is being greatly disturbed.  I walk over to the pool and get into the water (Without getting my hair wet. Hey. I’m also putting my fake tan in danger!) I paddle over to the boy and tell him to tell his sister that he will “spot” her.

Out of fear that I’m some sort of crazed woman, the boy complies and tells l’il sis that he will spot her.

She continues screaming that she can’t jump. Why can’t this child Brexit the diving board?

I tell her brother to tell his sister that the water in the pool is salt water and there is so much salt that she will float back to the top as soon as she jumps. (It’s true. The water is heavily salted. So much so that even a swimmer as heavy as I am will float to the top).

With growing fear, he conveys this message to his sister.

She jumps. But I think she jumped from the fear of looking at the expression on my face!

And she keeps jumping the rest of the day. And she ends up having a blast!

My good deeds for the day are finished. I’m a regular saint. First I save the swimmers from the vicious wild ducks and then I save this girl from having to be taken to the doctor for anti-anxiety medication. I also save the entire population of sunbathers from having to listen to the high-pitched screams of this little girl.

Why couldn’t she be French for crying out loud? Had she been a little French girl, she would have just quietly shrugged,  given up and gone back to her chaise and read Camus, Proust or Pagnol.

Pagnol

This is why French children are so well read.  Have you ever read Pagnol?  The man had a gift for telling a story!

Skinny lady is back.  I tried to take a photo of her but she was so thin that her body didn’t photograph. Her tanned skin is the color of my brown Longchamp bag.  She is as skinny as a q-tip. She walks slow laps around the pool and then stops to take a cigarette break. There is no rule about not smoking at the pool. It’s France!

She’s done this every year since we’ve been coming here.  Her bobbed black hair is the heaviest part of her body. And in some strange and bizarre way, seeing her brings familiarity and a sense of comfort to me. I like seeing her.

And I can bet she refers to me as “Zee wolee-polee pale American beech“.  I wonder if she likes seeing me as much as I do her?

Across the pool is the woman I’m calling “Helen Mirren” because she’s about my age and looks great in a bikini. I’m so intimidated! I suck my gut in and begin to read my next book, “The Little Paris Bookshop”.   After reading the first chapter, I’m hoping this snoozefest of faux literature gets better. I have a strong suspicion that it won’t.

Theoule. Pool. Older woman rocking the bikini.

Helen Mirren would show up in great bikinis every day. She even bought one from Virginia the bathing suit girl!  Who says older women cannot rock bikinis??

Après pool we take a drive into Grasse.  It’s my annual trip to reload on my favorite summer scent of all time. “Fleur d’Oranger”. I got hooked on this scent the first time I traveled to the South of France about 8 years ago. Even though I still have half a refill at home, it’s good to have a backup.

Theoule. Apartment. Flowers outside

Random flower pic.  This was taken outside our apartment. So it is kind of on the way to Grasse–right?

The drive to Grasse is pleasant and the beautiful countryside never gets boring.

We arrive at Fragonard and make our way down to the boutique.

Fragonard_Self_Portrait

Did you know that Fragonard parfumerie is named after the great artist Jean-Honore Fragonard?   Click to see his paintings but scroll down till you find them.

Grasse Fragonard exterior GOLD

My 2016 version of the front of Fragonard. I take the same picture every year!

Grasse Fragonard vats

Copper vats at the parfumerie….

Grasse Fragonard. On the way to the boutique

….Bottles of essential oils…

Grasse Fragonard. Glad to see someone isn't on strike! GOLD

…and a Frenchman who isn’t on strike! What’s not to love about this place?

We are greeted by Eva. She’s so cute and bubbly. Are you reading this anyone who thinks the French are rude? Because they aren’t.  I make Eva laugh when she suggests a different scent and I tell her it gives me a headache—and I give enough people headaches as it is without having one of my own.

Grasse Fragonard Evie my new bestie and great sport for holding this box up for me

My Fragonard BFF, Eva. Such a Jolie Blonde!  We had lots of laughs together!

She then has me try out the new “Fleur d’Oranger Intense”. The scent is captivating. Seriously. It is. It’s so …intense. But, Fragonard doesn’t sell refills of this so I pass. I know I will regret not making the purchase later on.

Fleur d oranger intense

Now that I’m home, I’m regretting not purchasing this.  Had I been an heiress, I would be able to hop on my private jet and return to Grasse. Oh well….

We engage in some serious Franglish and before I know it, a nice big box containing my regular Fleur d’Oranger is in my hands!

Grasse Fragonard Louis IX

I mistakenly cut the bottom of this photo off. But I think this is Louis Quatorze.  Whoever it is, he must have smelled nice!

Travel Tip:  Fragonard (as well as other perfumeries in the area) gives tours of their facility in Grasse.  The tour is quick—about 20 minutes. But it’s fun and interesting. There is no charge for the tour. 

If you want to shop at the boutique and forego the tour, you can.  I’ve made a shop stop here every year. The soaps and creams make great gifts for friends and family!

On the way back home (I love referring to the apartment as “home”); we missed the same turn we miss every single year!  We took the long way home and marveled at the beauty of the way the yellow and ochre buildings blends in so well with the bright blue sky.

Our daily stop at the market brought to fruition our only argument during our stay.   I saw veal kidneys at the boucherie. I wanted them.  Bonaparte wanted steak.  He won.  To sooth my bruised spirit, I headed over to the snack aisles and picked out a couple of items that I knew would feed into my self-pity!

Geant. French packaging of snacks. I love it.

I could have wiped the entire supply of this out.  I had an “itch” for Pitch!

Geant Hypermarche Peanut butter in a can!

Peanut butter in a can?? This is epic greatness. I could open the can and just stick those little brioche-covered chocolate bars into this all day.  That boy’s face is a bit scary though!

Dinner on this longest day of the year was fun.  Bonaparte had his mega binoculars at the ready so he could zoom in on the behemoth cruise ships on the horizon.

Lots of activity on the Mediterranean tonight.  An old-school fishing boat made me happy.  We saw a snorkeler—thanks to the binoculars.  A few yachts and smaller boats dotted the sea.

The swallows are flying high. Bonaparte said that’s very good for the weather. It means it’ll be dry and no rain.

Theoule. The OTHER bubble house. Pierre Cardins.

Bonaparte may have used the binoculars to look at the boats, but I’m a voyeur.  This is the old Pierre Cardin house just up the street–or rather “mountain” from our apartment.  It’s the coolest!

As the sun begins to set, the sounds of the evening can be heard in the distance. The frogs are singing in their low cadence.  The sea is hitting the rocks at a faster pace. It must be due to the many boats in the water. The motors on the small boats are humming and it all sounds so lovely and soothing.

Another day has passed. But it was the longest day of the year.

As I step from the terrace into our bedroom, I turn around to see that the moon has left a path of light on the sea as if to invite me to step out and take a walk over the Mediterranean.

Theoule. Apartment moonlight path on the water GOLD

Moonglow on the Mediterranean. Isn’t it pretty?

That would make a nice dream. Wouldn’t it?

Dreams make me think of this song by Mama Cass. Her voice was also very soothing.

Posted in fun in france | Tagged , , , | 40 Comments

Back in the d’Azur Groove! (Sing it Loud)!

Posted on July 5, 2016 by Catherine

Saturday, June 18th

It is, once again, a pleasure to wake up with the doors that lead from the bedroom to the terrace wide open and to greet the sun with a smile and a spray tan that hasn’t faded!

Weekends can be pretty crazy around the beach areas so we’ve decided to take the day easy and relax by the pool.  And since it is early in the morning, we’ll take a trip into Cannes to Marché Forville. We can pick up great produce and cheese and whatever else strikes our fancy!

Bonaparte has left the apartment to make his daily trip to the little l’epicerie down by the pool.  The shop is owned by a husband and wife who have been living in the area for a long, long time.  They are always cheerful and welcoming and Bonaparte looks just as forward to seeing them each morning as he does to his daily croissant purchase!

While he’s gone, I get ready.  Since my face is fake tanned, I’m happy to not load a ton of makeup.  Actually, in the process of doing my face, I realize that I packed way too many cosmetics.  Anyway, I got my mirror and tweezer and sat down on the terrace to pluck away. The lighting here is great for plucking those unsightly chin hairs!

Quickly, I apply a neutral shadow over my eyelids.  Then I pencil in my brows. A few coats of mascara, a swipe of liquid liner, a bit of blush and clear gloss and I’m done. That’s it!

Theoule. Me Terrace Ready for the day. GOLD

My three-minute face!

Bonaparte is back and making the coffee.  The morning air isn’t dreadfully hot so there’s a coolness surrounding us and it makes the hot coffee taste more delicious and gives off a feeling of warmth.

The morning view never fails to please. It remains the same but changes every day in small ways. On this morning, there are no boats within view.  The sea is as smooth as glass and she is somewhat silent. The cicadas aren’t chanting and the wind is still.

Theoule. Another morning view from the terrace

The sea is incredibly calm with no boats in sight.  This is a view we never tire of. Year after year!

I throw on a simple gray maxi dress over my bathing suit.  Slide into my sandals, grab my older-than-dirt Longchamp bag and we’re off to the market!

Theoule. Rondini and Longchamp. BETTER BLOG Gold

That’s one of the things I love about being here. It’s so casual. An old Longchamp bag and old Rondini’s are a perfect fit for running errands!

Travel Tip: When running errands or out and about in a resort or summer vacation area, it’s really best to get the job done early in the morning.  The longer you wait the more traffic you’ll have to deal with and the larger crowds.  Tired? Sleep on the beach or at the pool.  You’ll still be rested and your tasks will be completed in a timely manner!

We parked at the lot across from the Market.  I’ve mentioned this before, but the first hour’s parking is free.  There are quite a few parking lots throughout the area where the first half hour to first hour are free. If you have a car, take advantage of it!

Cannes. Marche forville sign

The Marché Forville is always a fun place to be..and the fruit and produce…Wow!

Marché Forville was thriving.   Vendors calling over to you to try their products.  People inspecting each piece of fruit to make sure that perfect ripeness has been set.  Sounds of laughter from friends running into one another.  The scents of fruit and flowers giving off a delightfully dizzying aroma.  The waft of spices.  Men and women emptying their trucks of yet more produce.

Cannes. Marche Forville. Check out them tomatoes GOLD

Check out the produce!

Cannes. Marche forville. Checking out the goods

Vendors are always happy and willing to engage with customers!

It is a colorful, fun, busy and happy place and the hectic vibe adds to the charm!

Cannes Spices. Marche Forville GOLD

I almost fell into these bags head first because the scents were so enticing!

Cannes. Marche forville more cheese

Cheese…and..

Cannes. Marche Forville. Goat cheese. Yes. We did.

…more cheese! We purchased the Herbes de provence Chevre and it was spectacular!

Cannes Marche forville. Flowers. You can get a ton of flowers for 6 euros.

If I lived around here, my home would always be filled with a ton of fresh flowers–they are so inexpensive!

But before any purchases are made, we take a walk around to check out the best prices. On one end of the market cherries are 6 €, 95 a kilo. (That price isn’t bad considering a kilo is the equivalent to about two pounds). At the opposite end. 3 euros.

Cannes. Marche Forville. Yer damn right I filled that bag with cherries.

We bought the less expensive cherries and they were so sweet and delicious. They were gone in two days! 

We stop for our annual supply of tapenade and luckily, the tapenade guys are up and running.  They are also selling a ton of product.

Cannes. Marche Forville. The tapanade and olive guys. They are fun! GOLD

The tapenade guys!  The guy on the right gave me so many samples of different tapenades that I had a complete lunch!

Bonaparte wanted to also stop off at Nicolas for wine, and at Ernest for his favorite pissaladière, an onion, olive and anchovy tart that is best served hot!

Cannes. NIcolas. The greatest store for wine ever.

Too bad we didn’t have Nicolas in the States. The people who work at the various locations throughout France are very knowledgeable about their wines!  Naturally–it’s France!!!!

Cannes. Ernest sign. Great caterer and take out.

Ernest. For all things prepared!  Did you know that “traiteur” is French for caterer?  I just found that out.

Cannes. Ernest window of food. GOLD

Bonaparte’s pissaladière is resting on the platter above the little pizzas to the left!

Our expert timing allowed us for a return to the car within the hour of gratuity parking!

Back home to drop the goodies off, and literally throw towels, goggles, sunscreen and other necessities in a bag and make a dash for the pool!

On our way to the pool I practiced the same words I’ve repeated almost every day during our stays here in previous years. And I’ll repeat those words every time we arrive at the pool and I am greeted by the pool guy!  Only this year the great pool guy from the past two years isn’t here. His replacement is a young man with a smile!

Bonaparte explains to him that I’ll be practicing my French….

I greet this young man with “Bonjour! Je voudrais deux matelas et un parasol s’il vous plaît!”

 He smiles and upon paying him for the cushions and umbrella, he tells me in broken English “Thanks you very much”!

I’m so fluent…………….in my broken French!

It was great to be back at the pool.  We took a little walk around and snapped some pics!

Theoule. Pool. Diving board

The too cool diving board gives the pool quite the quirky appearance!

Theoule. pool. Snow covered alps from the pool.

I stood up on one of the pool’s decks to snap this pic of the snow-tipped Alps.  We are in the department of the Alpes-Maritimes!  Isn’t this view beautiful?

Theoule. Pool BLOG gold pic.

We both like the pool best this time of day!

Theoule. Pool. More view

The new pool guy is making sure everything is orderly!

Theoule. Pool 2016 foot shot.

OK. Time to give my fake-tanned feet a rest!

Slathered with sunscreen and under the umbrella, I started the first of three books that I brought along—The Apprentice by Jacques Pepin.  The book is an autobiographical account of his life and career in food. He also adds recipes too! This is my kind of book because I get to enjoy all the food he writes about without adding calories to my well-rounded body!

I’m envious of Bonaparte as he swims because if I go into the pool, my fake tan will wash off. I have to wait a few days. Besides, if I get my hair wet, my bald spots will show through.  The things I do for beauty…..

 

A bit later and it really feels like home. “The Bathing Suit” girl has arrived!

Let me explain.  Every summer, at the pool, there is a girl selling bikinis and cover-up skirts.  She sits at a little opened cabana of sorts and the swimwear is displayed on the counter.

Theoule pool Bathing suit tops

An assortment of bikini tops.  I swear my goal for next summer is to fit into one of these!

She has the perfect body. She also has a great tan and great hair.  She should be illegal!   Every so often she will take a walk around the pool area wearing a different suit with matching flowing skirt.  She doesn’t have to say a word.  Her body and breezy tone sell the suits for the swim apparel company she is representing—Dolores Cortés.

Theoule. Pool. Virginia. The adorable seller and model of swimsuits.

Virginia! The Bathing Suit Girl! How adorable is she? I should copy and paste this pic to my fridge as inspiration!

This year, I muster up enough courage to talk to her because I want to write about her in my blog.  Her name is Virginia and she’s worked as a graphic designer since 2006.  She loves fashion and I must say, fashion loves her!

She’s very sweet and pretty much popular with the regulars as many of the women come to greet her with hugs and pecks on each cheek.

Theoule. Pool. Virginia selling the bathing suits.

Virginia gets the crowds going. She has a steady clientele! It’s really nice to see!

When she told me that she needed to work on her tan I almost passed out!  She was pretty tanned to begin with.

I’m feeling bad because I never lost enough weight to actually buy one of the suits, but I’ll make it my goal for next summer!

Three hours of pool time gave way to gray clouds hovering overhead.  Bonaparte is convinced that our entire trip will be a wash out.  I ignore him and am happy I remembered to bring my umbrella with me.

We left the pool to return, once again, to our happy place. Geant!

Presently, I feel like I discovered gold.  I headed over to the cosmetics area, which, in itself is an oasis of beauty products so wonderfully displayed.  I needed moisturizer because what I thought was moisturizer  that I picked up yesterday was “shampooing”.

Geant. L'Oreal products. BLOG GOLD

Look at this cosmetics display. In a hypermarche no less–the equivalent of one of our large supermarkets. Ain’t no displays like THIS in a supermarket back home!

Geant. Makeup display. I couldn't resist.

This is almost too much for me. I’m ready to go into a frenzy!

Anyway, I saw a display against the wall. Little spray tubes of perfume.  I had never seen such a selection in my life!  I could see the seed of a new obsession being planted.

Geant. Adopt'. Inexpensive perfume for your purse at 7euros. Best deal ever. BLOG GOLD

I’m in love with these scents. In LOVE with them. Woody Citrus is my fave!

While Bonaparte started shopping for food, I started playing with these fragrances from adopt’. Made in France AND the fragrances are long lasting! I casually slipped two fragrances into the cart:  Amber Orange Blossom and Woody Citrus.  Hey. I need fragrance to place into my purse anyway. Just in case I start to smell bad! These little tubes are a steal at 7€ each!  .

Our food shopping completed for today, we headed back to the apartment in the rain.

Back “home”the rain has stopped and sun has come out once again.  But the weather is also cool as I sit on the terrace writing and observing the goings on below me.

Birds are chirping but the cicadas are in hiding. It’s clearly too cold for them.

A lone man is walking down the path below and his dog is slowly lagging behind.

The sea is relatively calm with one yacht anchored in the distance, and a sailboat floats closer to shore. Three motorboats are racing and leaving a trail of little whitecaps and waves that are shaped into large curves.  The yellow buoys in the water bob up and down in quick rhythm.  And the sound of the small waves hitting against the orange rocks are the percussion to the songs of the birds flying over the sea searching for a seafood dinner.

The one mosquito bite on my face itches and I am overjoyed by the scent of the Amber and Orange Blossom that I bought home from Geant!

Palm tree and azaleas to my left. Bright purple Rhododendron to my right. Aubergine petunias in a large ceramic pot all contribute to a view that brings a simple pleasure to me.

Theoule. View of plants and houses from the terrace

Another view from the terrace but this time focusing on the landscape!

Bonaparte is napping because he’s disgusted by the weather. I feel bad for him, but I’m enjoying this time to collect my thoughts and write.

I make my way into the small kitchen to start the prep for this evening’s dinner.

We’ll start with the Tapenade we purchased at Marché Forville.  Naturally, we have a fresh baguette.  Bonaparte also made sure to pick up some saucisson. He’s having his favorite –Tournedo of beef and I’m going to enjoy my fresh Lotte—that’s French for Monkfish! (I’m so pretentious!)

I’ll also serve a salad—just to be healthy.   And for dessert figs and cheese! That’s until Bonaparte takes the ice cream out of the freezer!

As we sip our aperitifs, we agree that it is just nice to sit back and talk about nothing and everything.

After dinner, Bonaparte, in a panic, announces that we forgot to eat the Pissaladière from Ernest!

pissaladiere-30183_w800

Don’t worry Bonaparte. The pissaladière isn’t going anywhere!

We can have it tomorrow!

Sunday, June 19th.

Today is Bonaparte’s Birthday! He is 72 years old and has the energy of a man thirty years younger!  Today is also Jean Dujardin’s birthday and my parent’s 62nd wedding anniversary. I hope my parents are looking down at me with love and affection!

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Bonaparte! May you have good bread and wine!

It’s early in the morning and I’m up before Bonaparte.  It must’ve poured last night because looking down from the terrace, the ground is wet and the large drops of water are dripping from the plants and flowers.

The skies are overcast.

A half hour later, the clouds have left and the sun is shining. Mother Nature has given Bonaparte a nice birthday gift!  The air has warmed up and it looks like another day at the pool!

We ran into the owners of L’epicerie. They informed us about the restaurant that we enjoyed so much, L’Aiguille, (click for the story) did, in fact close and that the owners would not be opening another restaurant.  I tell you I felt so local to be a part of that conversation. But I also felt sad that the restaurant is gone.

The pool was pretty much empty and there wasn’t much going on. The only excitement was when I stood up and the bottom of my bathing suit felt a little loose.

Not only was it loose, but it untied and was falling off me.  Thank God nobody was there to catch that comedy of errors!  Four hours of sitting under the umbrella and the thunder and rain crept in.

Theoule. Pool. Bonaparte Spitzer after a swim.

This was pretty much the birthday boy’s expression when my suit bottom became untied!

Four sunny hours of reading for me and swimming and baking for Bonaparte (He’s his own birthday cake!), ended with the sound of thunder and a sprinkling of rain.  I guess the sun became tired of shining.

Sunday isn’t the same here in France as it is back in the States.  Many shops are closed. Our very own Geant doesn’t open on Sundays until next week—at the official start of summer.

Bonaparte was visibly shaking with worry that he wouldn’t be able to find a baguette tradition.  I mentioned to him that there was a small boulangerie in St. Raphaël.

Off we drove. The back roads along the shore.  Past L’Esterel. And past some wonderful vistas.

L'esterel 2

Sorry, I know it’s raining but I forgot to snap a photo of l’esterel in the rain! I had to add a sunny pic instead!

We found the boulangerie and once again, Bonaparte received another gift in the form of an opened shop!  Not only did we get the coveted baguette, but we also picked up a Tarte Tropezienne as a substitute for birthday cake!

St. Raphael. Bakery from last year GOLD

Le Fournil du Port is the little boulangerie that was opened on Sunday.  I don’t know WHAT Bonaparte would have done without his baguette! I shudder at the thought!

Baguette

It’s a good thing it was Bonaparte’s birthday or I would have started picking at this baguette!

The surprises didn’t stop. He was over-the-moon thrilled when I received a text from Oona wishing Bonaparte a Happy Father’s Day! Yeah. I was also Father’s Day!

I’m giving the writing a rest for now dear journal.  It is off to celebrate Bonaparte’s birthday with a nice dinner, his baguette and the pissaladière that he forgot to eat yesterday! Oh. And the Tarte Tropezienne too!

Food. Tarte Tropezienne. GOLD

Tarte Tropezienne. One of the greatest desserts of all time.

And for anyone who has a birthday coming up. Here’s a French Happy Birthday song for you cleverly performed by JB Craipeau!

Posted in Cannes, Marche Forville, St. Raphael, Theoule sur Mer | Tagged , , , | 35 Comments

The Return to France. Ready. Jet. Go No!

Posted on July 4, 2016 by Catherine

Caveat:  I’m writing my posts about our trip to France as they appear in my journal entries.  Also—this is a different kind of travel post about France. There are no smoke and mirrors here.  This is not the jet-set view of the Cote d’Azur.  It is MY view—and you know what that means.

I would say it’s a bit of a cross between Anthony Bourdain and…

Bourdain

Yes. No smoke and mirrors for me. My tone is a bit Anthony Bourdain–a bit rough. Well, I’m a girl–so maybe Antoinette Bourdain

Rick Steves

Steves

But my sweetness is more like Rick Steves. OK. I’m a girl–so maybe Ricola Steves. Like the cough drops!

I’m the girl version of these guys.

The Cote d’Azur Unplugged.

So grab a coffee or wine or a stiff drink and enjoy my raves, rants, complaints and tons of fun with my France 2016 visit!

Thursday, June 16, 2016.  8:30 AM.

Boarding Pass √

Carry On √

Makeup √

All Other Stuff –I Guess √

And that’s it for my big checklist. After all, I’ve been packing and repacking for about a month. And I know that I’ve still managed to over pack! (More on that in a later post…)

True to form-the rain arrived on the day of departure.  I’ve never ever left for France on a clear or sunny day.  That’s in ten years. Maybe bad weather is good luck for me.

It’s weird. I’m not excited—but I am happy. The lack of excitement is because it’ll be the first time we’ll be in France without being with Daniele. This is not the time to wax sadly about her passing or about Paris. It is the time to enjoy!

It is also the time to get dressed.  I’m flying comfortably, but not like a slob. I’ll save the slob travel look for when I return home.  Instead, I’m wearing a simple Lilly Pulitzer shift dress and on my feet I’m wearing my pink pointy-toed Gemma flats from J. Crew.  (Note. I have to say, these shoes, as pretty as they are when new; look like crap after a few wears.)

marlowe dress

This is the dress I’m wearing. Unfortunately, I look NOTHING like the fetching young lady modeling MY dress. 

My obsession with arriving early at the airport—especially for international flights, proves well.  Checking in was a breeze. We were also pre-checked at TSA so we went through security with no issues.

I’ll admit. I was a bit disappointed because I didn’t get the thrill of a pat-down from the fun folks at TSA, but perhaps they just were not interested in me! It was my goal to have to go into that little tube and get a complete check. Oh well, maybe next time!

giphy TSA pat down

Part of the thrill of flying for me is getting the pat-down! I’m such a hot mess these days that TSA couldn’t be bothered touching me!

We arrived at the gate and despite the timeliness of our arrival, all the little cubicles with the USB ports to charge your iPhone were taken up by the morons who couldn’t leave their damned cell phones for two minutes. You would think that the way these people are snuggled into these tiny spaces with their luggage and personal items, that these USB cubicles are the new homeless shelters.

Seriously. I need a charge. You would think these selfish and entitled travelers would seek out a USB port closer to their gate.  Do these idiots not realize how self-important I am???

After a complete walk around the airport and trying the outlets in over twenty empty cubicles, I now realize why everyone is at our gate. None of the outlets in this damned airport work.  Wait. I finally found one! It takes me fifteen minutes to fit the plug in without falling out. But at least I’m charged!

Airport. Philly Stinking outlet that I found after trying twenty. GOLD

BTW, this is one of the FEW operating outlets to charge your phone or tablet or what ever. It’s over by Gate 20.

Philadelphia International Airport is so kind to those who travel.  CNN is televised at each of the airport’s gate areas. Nothing like watching about all the bad things going on in the world—especially when one is getting ready to fly overseas.  Hey Wolf Blitzer.  Can you report any other news besides the horrors of what’s going on in this society?  I’m flying in a while! I don’t want to be scared!

CNN-Wolf-Blitzer-headline-2

Thanks Wolfie!  Got any other fun news for travelers?

Now I have to go to the bathroom. Ugh. Why did I drink so much water before I left? The ladies rooms at Philadelphia Int’l. are so disgusting! I feel bad for any foreigner whose first impression of our great country is the restroom at this airport! They would think all women are filthy slobs who “make” (I’m a classy broad. In my family we use the word “make” for number 1) on the toilet seat rather than in the actual toilet.  WTF?  Why can’t women who pretend to sit on  the toilet seat because they are afraid to sit their oversized asses on the seat, wipe their pee-pee drippings  when they are finished? They are so concerned about the germs of others, yet they leave their prissy little germs splattered on the toilet seat for others to enjoy!  Welcome to the filthy hygiene habits of the American woman!

Hurray for gender equality because I’m going to start using the men’s room. It’s probably cleaner!

Back at the gate and observing other travelers. (As though I’m perfect *eyeroll*) Sitting across from me is a man with shorts so baggy that I thought they were his boxers and he forgot his pants. On his feet are sandals. This shouldn’t be a problem, but his toenails are yellow and curling in at the ends. He also has toe dandruff that is visible from where I am sitting.  I pray that this man sits nowhere near me on the plane. He may be drunk because of  the way he’s babbling about the things that Wolf Blitzer is reporting.

I look away and see a woman who is also at our gate. She is going to France, the food capital of the world. And she is eating—or rather gorging, a ton of food from a Styrofoam plate. She keeps piling the food into her mouth and is talking while shoveling the food. I think she may be practicing for a food eating contest.

giphy food contest

I’m pretty sure the woman shoving food into her mouth was getting ready to compete in an eating contest with this guy!

My appetite just got lost. If only I could clone this woman and have her follow me around, I might lose some weight!

In the meantime, I’m discussing these observations with Bonaparte.

He is beaming with pride! He told me that I have officially become French because I can complain about others better than any native Frenchman or woman he has ever known.

How french are you.

Well, I’m French enough to complain about everything from the time I wake up until I go to sleep. I even DREAM complaints while sleeping!

The plane arrives.  We board. Happily, the plane is less than half-filled.  It’s going to be a great flight!Airport. All dressed in Lily. I look like a stinking mainliner.

Dressed in Lilly and taking a minute to stop complaining. OK. Maybe half a minute!

Had Air France not gone on strike, our flight would have been better because we would have been on a nicer aircraft.  We also would have received better meals. Thanks Air France. Thank you for making us have to fly American Airlines!

Airport. Philly. Our plane in the rain.

Our plane awaits us. In the rain! Again.

Dinner tonight is a choice of chicken or pasta. No way would I go with any form of meat with this airline.  The pasta is awful. The macaroni is sticky and the sauce is like glue. I don’t finish it.  The salad? I ate it dry.  Bedbugs probably taste better than this garbage. At least the bugs are chock-full of protein!

American Airlines in flight pasta meal

I’m a woman who LOVES to eat. My hips are proof–so’s my ass, but even I couldn’t finish this garbage!

The cost of a seat in economy is airway robbery and American Airlines can’t give us a meal that is composed of organic ingredients rather than the fake butter, fake salad dressing, fake cheese and a dessert that is loaded with ingredients I can’t even pronounce?

Next I decide to watch TV. One of my favorite shows, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”, is on the current American Airlines view list.  I guess since it’s always raining whenever I fly, this is a good show to watch.  And it is, but thank God the plane is almost empty. I laugh so hard and loud that I wake the sleeping passengers up!

giphy Always sunny

I love everything about “It’s Always Sunny….”–especially Danny DeVito!

Sorry!  Bonne Nuit!

Friday. June 17th.7:30 AM

J’arrivee in Paris—But We Have Another Plane to Catch!

American Airlines wants passengers to think we are all the Beatles exiting the plane to crowds of waiting fans. That’s why we didn’t land at a gate. This is the second time that we’ve flown American Airlines and had this happen. We just don’t learn.

The plane disembarked on the tarmac. A set of portable steps allowed us, with carryon luggage in hands, to try to make a graceful attempt in walking down to a waiting bus.

This is what you get when you pay over $1,000.00 to fly American Airlines to Paris! You get to pretend you are John or George or Paul or Ringo!

the-beatles-wave-airplane-1964-650

The Beatles were luckier. At least THEY had someone else to handle their carry on luggage!

Note to self:  Write to American Airlines asking for a 20 percent refund check because my flight did not make it to the terminal. I had to take a bus.  

It was a bit weird to land at CDG in Paris and not get a cab to Daniele’s—but life changes and this time around, we were headed off to collect our baggage and then through the airport to the terminal to catch another plane to Nice.

Thankfully, Air France “ended” the strike. We may have had to change our flight to Paris, but our flight to Nice was still unaffected!

Also thankfully, the airport wasn’t that busy on this Friday morning.  We breezed through customs and got our luggage with no problems.

I snuck into a ladies room—which, by the way was incredibly clean.  I changed from my dress into shorts, a striped shirt and my Bass Weejuns.   I also applied deodorant. Lots of it.

Airport. CDG. Arrived. I changed from my dress into shorts and loafers.

My feet were more comfy in these shoes anyway!  You’ll later see how filthy the airlines got my cute pink suitcase!

This is just too easy.

I spoke too soon.

Let me just say that the actual staff of Air France is wonderful.  They are helpful. They are incredibly nice.  They rock their uniforms. The women all have their hair back either in severe burns, chignons or French twists. Their makeup is impeccable. And the men look just as chic!

chic air france attendants

I was hoping to ask one of the attendants to help my put my hair into a pretty French twist! Look how chic the Air France women are!

But before I continue, I have to say that the electronic kiosks are way out of date at CDG.  We had to pay for our larger luggage. No big deal. Right? Well, yeah. The kiosk we were trying to use kept rejecting our credit cards.  We were told by a staffer that the rejection of credit cards in the kiosks is a common occurrence and that the staffer at the check-in would take care of the payment.

next-gen-kiosk

These kiosks at Air France are a joke. They don’t accept American cards–that’s what the man from Air France said.  

Five minutes later, our larger luggage was rolled away and paid for. Thanks to the assistance of a human being.

However, when it comes to keeping order in the process of boarding—it is mass mayhem.

The flight from Paris to Nice was akin to that of a NYC subway car during rush hour. In the middle of summer. With no air conditioning.

And because of this, the ground staff was pacing the crowd. Eyeing everyone’s carry on. Many passengers were called out because their luggage was just a tad too large for the French version of carryon.  Like the thin and small-boned Gauls, French carryon luggage is just as small-framed.  And many of those pieces came under the scrutiny of Air France and had to be placed into baggage.

One staff member kept walking back and forth past me. She was looking at my Longchamp weekender, which was filled to capacity. Then she would bring her eyes up to my face.  My resting bitch face would not work to keep my luggage with me.  Instead I gave her a kind of tilting head with a begging smirk kind of look.

Longchamp layout

Almost three weeks worth of clothing was stuffed into this and I had to try to make it appear smaller!

I also kicked my weekender in at the sides to make it appear smaller. Either that or she loved my get up of shorts, striped shirt and loafers.  My bag passed the test and I was able to carry it on with me.

There was no rhyme or reason or organization once the announcement was made to board the plane.  The staff tried to allow priority boarding board before everyone else. And they did a decent job. It was the mad rush after priority that caused a minor riot.

They say the most intensive French sport is that of cutting ahead in line.  I mastered that one a long time ago.  I pushed and shoved in the most aggressive but discreet way. After all, I needed quite a bit of overhead space for my bag!

cut-in-line

No. I was the one cutting in line. There ARE no excuses!

We boarded the aircraft and in true form, the rain came. And it came as soon as we boarded our flight to Nice. And it came pouring down in the form of severe thunderstorms.

Hard to believe that rain delayed our flight to Nice from Paris for over two hours. (Really?)  I seem to travel only in bad weather!) It was even harder to process the thought that we were either in the eye of a storm or rather the eye of the Air France strike which was not yet quite over.  The latest news is that the Air France strike will resume next week.

Anxiety rules when you are stuck on the runway and cannot wait to get to your destination.

Anyway, once we were off and running, the hour and a half flight had us landing in Nice to sunny skies!  It’s great to be back on the Cote d’Azur!

Airplane. The first sighting of the Cote d'Azur

NOW I’m getting excited. Look at that view of the Cote d’Azur..

Airplane even closer. I cant control myself GOLD

…and we’re getting closer…

Airplane. Ready to land in Nice. GOLD

 

..and closer!!  And the return is happening!!!

We were greeted by the gentlest breeze as we exited the terminal at the airport and I swear I could hear Daniele’s voice whispering “Bonjour ma Cherie” as the breeze kissed my cheek.  She was looking down at us and smiling!

It was also a warm and fuzzy moment of total familiarity as we hurried to get the car and headed out of the airport to highway A-8 and on our way to the apartment in Theoule. Driving along the route gave a feeling of returning home.  Well, ok maybe not home, but almost home!

Autoroute

On Autoroute A8. Got the Nostalgie station on the radio. I’m pumped!

The community was a bit on the quiet side when we arrived. Bonaparte found out later from the proprietor of the little Epicerie by the pool that the number of visitors was down from last year.  He said because of the tragic events in Paris some foreigners (i.e. Americans) were afraid to travel to France.

I’ll drink to that!  Quite a few customers that I’ve had in Retail Hell basically told me I was nuts to travel to France due to terrorism.  I don’t think these women watch the news at home. Orlando? Sandy Hook?  Columbine?  Daily drive-by shootings?  Um…where’s the danger?

And as is our usual routine, we dropped the luggage off and headed to Geant Hypermarche.  My happy place! It’s the greatest supermarket in the world.

Geant La Galerie

Geant Hypermarche upped their game. It is now Geant La Galerie. With shops like H&M among the boutiques.  This is my French happy place!

We loaded up the car with way too many food items we didn’t need. We also stocked up on laundry detergent, tissues and toilet paper! You know—the necessities.

Geant. President Burger cheese. I'm sure this is better than our plastic cheesefood.

I don’t even EAT burgers but who could resist this Burger Cheese? And it’s cheddar!

Geant. My new friend. The olive man. BLOG GOLD

Last summer I made friends with the Mojito Girl. This summer it’s the Olive Man!

Geant. Mascarpone in a can. Genius. BLOG GOLD

Bonaparte had to physically remove me from these cans of Mascarpone. I had one to my mouth!  I love Geant so much!

We headed back to the apartment in anticipation of an easy dinner of one of those delicious little roasted chickens and various salads. However, by this time, I was starting to feel a bit “punchy” –as though I had too much wine or something. It had been over 24 hours since I slept.

We ended up enjoying our little meal on the terrace and gaining a feeling of calm and peace as we looked out at the sea and just sighed and smiled.

Yes. This will be a great trip! This already IS a great trip!

But I’m about to pass out from lack of sleep so I’ll let the sound of the sea rock me to sleep!

And here’s a song about travel. Francoise Hardy and her husband Jacques Dutronc. “Puisque Vous Partez En Voyage”!

Posted in France, humor | Tagged , , | 29 Comments

Je suis arrivée à la maison. Yes. I’m Back Home From France!

Posted on July 3, 2016 by Catherine

It’s been a fun, fun time on the Cote d’Azur. I have SO much to tell you about.

But today, I’m spending the day uploading photos for the posts about our trip. I had no idea how many photos Bonaparte and I took.

Anyway, I just wanted to write a post to tell you about a great gift that Bonaparte received from his father!  FAMILY PHOTOS!  Yes! OLD SCHOOL VINTAGE FAMILY PHOTOS!

It’s so exciting because I love living vicariously through his family.  They are just so….so…FRENCH! 

I gotta stop talking.  Have a look at some of the vintage pics that I, we,   Bonaparte received.

Enjoy!

Bonaparte. Isabelle and Evie La Ponche St. Trop. 1947

Bonaparte, his sister Isabelle and their mom Evie. La Ponche, St. Tropez. 1947. Check out how chic Bonaparte’s mother is.  

Bonaparte family photos. L'Estagnol 1957L’Estagnol plage 1957. I’ll be posting pics of this same beach–we went there. It hasn’t changed!!!

Bonaparte family photos. L'Estangol 1957Another shot of L’Estagnol. I think I have this same exact shot taken last week! OMG. I love this so much!

Bonaparte family photos. Marie Claire editorialWho IS that man looking at?? Why it’s Bonaparte. And his sister Isabelle is to the left of him. This was a picture from an editorial in Marie Claire magazine.  Bonaparte said it was for a famous designer but he couldn’t remember who the designer was.  He said it was either Dior, Carven, or Givenchy!  We need to return to dressing like this!

Bonaparte. 1957. South of franceKeep calm and study! Bonaparte was such a serious student. Suntanning whilst studying. I certainly never studied while baking in the sun! This was 1957.

Bonaparte family photos. Evie 1957Another shot of the beautiful Evie. Bonaparte’s mother and I have the same sandals. She loved her Rondini Tropeziennes just as much as I do!

Bonaparte family photos. Evie and Jean with cowhandsThis HAS to be one of my favorite pics of all time.  Check out Bonaparte’s mother Evie and his stepdad Jean in the background! Even in a barn surrounded by farm life, there is still time for romance!

Bonaparte family photos daniele and yves weddingOK. Wanna know why THIS photo is so special?  Well, it’s because this was our first visit to France without visiting Daniele (R.I.P) And look!!! We still got to see her because this photo was included with the pile of pics. It’s Daniele and her husband, Yves Robert on their wedding day!

Hope you enjoyed! I’m going back to uploading pics!  Glad to be back at the computer after a hiatus of phone, TV, computers and wee-fee (That’s how the French pronounce Wi-Fi. I know these things! I’m special!)

Stay tuned!!! XOXOXOXOXO!!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 40 Comments

Leaving For France..But I’ll Be Back!

Posted on June 16, 2016 by Catherine

Hi Everyone!

I just wanted to tell you that due to my lack of prowess and ability on my iPhone, I won’t be able to post while away.  I’ll try though. We’ll see what happens…

But–I’m using this time to write and chill.  And will be back refreshed and with new adventures..

So…please…

Don’t you forget about me for the next coupla weeks! XOXOXOXOXO

Posted in Uncategorized | 39 Comments

Oh Bonaparte! I Didn’t Get “SPAYED”–I Got “Sprayed”!!!

Posted on June 15, 2016 by Catherine

Sometimes I wonder if Bonaparte  pays attention to a word I say.

I had a few high-maintenance items to take care of for our trip.

The nails were a disgusting mess. So I needed a mani-pedi. But it wasn’t just any manicure and pedicure. Since we would be away for just shy of three weeks, I decided to get a gel mani-pedi. The gel polishes last longer and really—they don’t chip off.

In addition, my fingernails were in such awful shape I decided to have a set of acrylics put back on. (Don’t judge. My nails suck).  Under normal faux nail situations, I like a longer nail. However, with going away, I decided to go for a shorter, sportier look.

Mani pedi

See how pretty my old lady hands and feet are with my new gel mani-pedi?  You just cannot go wrong with a bright red. It’s the new OPI gel color of “Big Apple Red”! (No. Not named for the computer store.)

I am very fussy, though, about the shape of my nails and had them rounded out.

I also saw Adam, my hair saint, for a color and blow out. Oh. And while I was at the salon, I also had to make a future appointment for Oona. She’ll be here in August and explained that it was of dire importance that Adam cut her hair.

As usual, he made my hair look spectacular. If it looks this good clean, can you imagine how great it’ll look as it gets dirty?  I may not wash my hair the entire time we are away!

Lastly in my cloud of high maintenance was the spray tan. Yes. I decided to go, not for the gold, but for the delightfully delicious bronze.  The fact is, I actually told Bonaparte that I was going to get sprayed but, he either forgot, he didn’t pay attention, or he tuned me out when I spoke of this procedure.

I’ll get to the actual procedure later. But when Bonaparte saw me after the spray, it kind of went like zis:

I arrived home before Bonaparte. My spray had dried and I was really loving the color of my body!  I was so busy admiring myself in the mirror when Bonaparte came upstairs…

spray tan 007

I couldn’t help myself.  Between the fake tan and the big, fluffy blow out that Adam gave me, I was feeling like the prettiest  best looking, average old lady on the planet

Bonaparte:  (shocked to see that my legs and arms were not fish-belly white with a tint of veiny blue). “Oh mah Got.” “Wha deed ou dooooo?”

Me:  (Very happy because for the first time in my life, I was almost as dark as Bonaparte). ” I got sprayed”.  “It’s a spray tan.” “I told you I was getting this done”. “I wanted to be as tan as your Mediterranean peeps!”

Bonaparte: “Wha do ou min, SPAYED?”  “Oo SPAYED ou?”

Me: (questioning the word “spayed”) “I got SPRAYED.”  “Not SPAYED!!”  “Dogs get spayed!”  “Are you calling me a DOG?” “Do you ‘sink’ I look UGLY???”

You talking to me

Hey! Even Chippy did a double-take when Bonaparte mentioned that I got “spayed”. I think Chippy may have gotten a bit….excited!

Bonaparte: “Non! Non! Casseeeee” “Em not cullin’ ou a douge!” “Ou look so boo-ee-fuwl wiz zuh spay ten” “Ou much monay did zis spay cos’ me?”

Me:  “It was priceless” “Besides—it meks—I mean ‘makes’ me look thinner”

Bonaparte: (a bit suspicious) “Cassee.” “Ou did zis?”  “Was eet a men?” “Deed ee see ou nekkeed?”

And so I explained to Bonaparte that no, it was not a man who “spayed” me. It was an adorable young woman named Alexa and I kept making her laugh with my moronic  remarks!

Alexa from Luninosity Spray Tan and Teeth Whitening

Alexa of Luminosity . The place where you can get an airbrush tan AND get your teeth whitened in the same day! She’s a great  spray tanner!

Here’s how my “spay” went.  I went into a dark booth with mirrors. On the floor was a huge fan.  On the walls were hooks for ones purse and clothing.  There was also shelving on the wall for personal effects such as jewelry, watches—whatever.

003

To the right, under the sign is where the tanning magic took place.

I stripped down to everything but my bra.  Yes. I took my panties off because I never had a tanned ass before and I figured what the hell.

And I  wanted to explain to Alexa that I was keeping my bra on only because what if I took my bra off and then a little bit of the spray tan product seeped into one of my nipples and then I got an infection in my titties?

I didn’t want to scare Alexa with that explanation. Nor did I want her to screw up the application process of airbrushing me.

I never gave a second thought to any tanning product seeping up into my colon from the other end.

My new hairdo was protected with a super strength shower cap.

I pale in comparison

Before the color. Look how uneven and pasty my skin is. I look like a friggin’ circus clown!

I stepped onto the little towel that worked as a buffer between my precious feet and the floor.  Alexa asked me if the fan was too much for me.

She laughed as I told her that my life is one long hot flash so if she wanted, she could turn the fan up a bit.

I followed her commands to put arms up; put arms down; place arms in a square position.  Turn legs out. Turn legs in.

But it was the command to stick my butt out that almost made her drop the tanning applicator.

I told her I felt like Kim Kardashian when she posed with her tanned ass to the world but I looked more like Caitlin Jenner!

Kaitlin Jenner

Actually, it’s a sad day when you realize that Caitlyn Jenner is a better looking woman than you are!  But I’m glad my ass isn’t Kim sized!

When all was done, I was thrilled with the result. Kudos to Alexa for giving me the correct “color” tan. She explained to me that with my naturally fair coloring, the darkest tan would not look great. Instead, she sprayed me with a light to medium mixture.

Freshly baked

Ten minutes after the ‘spay’!  Look toward the bottom right. You can see my bra strap!

Tan lines.

Look how ‘natural’ my fake tan line is!

I purchased some tan extender and was on my way. But—I will be back to tan my hide and to make Alexa laugh!

I had a struggle with my new selfie stick today. It was misbehaving! But 24 hours later, the tan is looking mighty good.  And no matter how naughty my selfie stick is, it does a great job of making me look twenty pounds lighter! Who needs photoshop????

On the other hand, did I tell you that Bonaparte purchased a new and bigger suitcase for me?  Yeah. He couldn’t process the fact that I shoved a ton of clothing into my Longchamp weekender.

We went to Marshalls and I picked out a peachy/pink number by Samsonite. I fell in love with the girly pink mostly because I know it will become filthy and raggy looking in no time. The filthier the suitcase, the less chance of anyone trying to take my stuff!

Filthy in no time!

I guarantee you this suitcase will be spotted with filth by the time we arrive in France! No wonder it was in the clearance area!

Now you know why  I get to sit at the “genius” table at the Apple store!

We’ll use my “big” suitcase for our beach towels (because they are heavy) and for my other “stuff” like books, journals, shoes that I forgot about packing and toiletries that would never make it through TSA.

Oh. I also decided to clean my makeup brushes before leaving. Being the lazy slob that I am, I decided to wash the brushes in Dawn dish soap. Winner!!!  The grime and old makeup came off so easy. I didn’t even have to scrub!

Makeup brushes. Note the chewed ones that Chippy got to

Check out the chewed ends on some of the brushes. Chippy must’ve thought they were ice cream sticks!

One last thing. Bragging time!  My nephew Matt was drafted by the Kansas City Royals.  It’s a glorious moment for my baseball family. And it is also a bittersweet one because my dad isn’t here for Matt’s signing.  This would have been one of my dad’s happiest life events.  But hopefully he is looking down and smiling!

My newphew Matt

Hey batta batta!  Oops. He pitches!! 

And now I’m all caught up.  Tonight we’ll have a relaxing and light dinner and I will no longer check my luggage because I just don’t want to! XOXOXOXO!!!

In honor of Matt, I want to listen to some John Fogerty! Centerfield!

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