Around France

I'm sitting here at my mother's house in Port Townsend, with an amazing view of the Olympic mountains, and writing about our trip to France. After a couple days back in the States, I'm slightly recovered from jet lag, which would be going better if the toddler of the family wasn't waking up at 4:30am. If I make any bizarre grammatical errors, or write generally nonsensical things, I hereby blame it on the jet lag and general lack of sleep.

That being said, enjoy the rest of the journey in France:

I am quite glad that we did have a car, and so we went in all directions and experienced the beauty and varied charms of Provence.
Now, there is one thing I won't miss, rather my stomach won't miss about the South of France, and that's the windy roads. It makes for beautiful driving but if you have the slightest tendency towards car sickness... ugh!

GOING EAST:
One day we began traveling east and went through the town of Grasse. Wandering aimlessly for a bit, we looked at the map and realized we were quite close to Cannes, so we headed for the coast. The mountains and the coast have such very different characteristics and it doesn't take long to go from one to the other.
We had been in gray Poland and gray London, and Denmark, and when that Southern light hit me and the palm trees of Cannes waved their happy little fronds, I was in heaven.



Even with cookie cutter hotels along the beach, the place was lovely. Reminded me a bit of Santa Monica, California actually.

There is definitely something to the idea that the climate creates the culture. It is interesting to notice the very stark cultural differences between northern and southern European countries. In Denmark for instance, people shake hands. In southern France people say bonjour and smile. If you go a little further south to Spain, people you have just met kiss your cheeks. So we soaked up the relaxed vibe of Southern France.



Picnic on the beach.



Making acquaintance with the water.







GOING SOUTH:
On another day we headed straight South to Sainte Maxime. We collected tiny little stones and shells. You can see Saint Tropez across the inlet.



Rock climbing with Ataata.



On the peninsula close to Saint Tropez.








This area was so beautiful, with numerous vineyards all turned yellow and glowing in the sunlight.





GOING NORTH:
The town of Bargemon is situated at about 1200 feet altitude. One rare gray day we went north which took us further up the mountains, through some low clouds and onto a plateau where we met some meandering locals.





A large part of this plateau is Camp Canjeur, the largest military camp in Europe. Most of the land was empty with no sign of military presence.
(we did eventually drive past a area with an extraordinary number of tanks--definitely the least attractive thing we saw in all of France)

We came upon this abandoned town. Was it abandoned before or after the military moved in?



We had emerged from the military land and encountered many tiny villages. There were a surprising number of ruins all along this drive.



We were looking for a nice spot to have a picnic (in the car as it was drizzly), ended up going down some dirt roads and ending up here. There I am, surreptitiously sipping wine in the wilds.



View from our picnic location. Now THAT'S a spot!! (if you can't see the house, click on the picture to get a better view)



Near our picnic. The tiny village of Le Plan d'Anelle.



An inhabited village with ruins and abandoned buildings.



GOING WEST:

Near the end of our two weeks, we had yet to stop at a winery for a little wine tasting. I searched online for organic wine and read about a little town called Correns about 60 km west of Bargemon. The unique thing about this town is that everything grown by the farmers is organic. It is the first village of its kind in France.

We found out too that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt (oh boy oh boy!) have an estate just outside of town, and one of the organic wineries is on their land. Ahh, who can blame them? I'd buy an estate there too if I had a few million extra dollars busting the seams of my pockets.

We arrived there during the afternoon hours when everything is closed. Somewhere between 12 and 4 pm almost everything closes down in all the villages. I guess it's part of that quality of life thing, and what lends to the relaxed atmosphere. So we wandered about town.

a persimmon tree in Correns.





Django contemplating a flower that a little 2 1/2 year old boy gave him at a playground. This little boy went out of his way to bring Django two flowers before he and his mom left the park. It was very sweet. Django held on to them preciously until we walked to the river that ran through town and he tossed them in. I love the easy tendency toward non-attachment!



Django and Simon discussing life at the river edge.



Mama and Django posing by a cool old wall.



Finally we found a little winery that was open just outside the village where they sold organic wine. It was quite good and we brought a couple bottles home to help us through our last 3 nights in France ;-)



Here we are, home again at last! We're enjoying seeing family and friends in Port Townsend, then off to LA next week. Not sure when I'll write again, but I'll keep you posted about our continuing journeys.

peace and love,
Janna

French doors

Doors in these old villages in France are just so incredibly charming and full of character. I captured a few. Several of these doors are so short I would have to duck to pass through. Enjoy!

This is a door to the old chapel in Bargemon which is undergoing restoration presently.



This door was about four feet high!



The door to the old Bargemon prison from 1585.












A building built around huge stones. We saw this several times.





coming next, our travels around Provence...

Bargemon

It was extremely refreshing to be in a place with no corporate presence. No Starbucks or Starbucks knockoffs, no supermarkets, nothing. There was one small market that may have been a chain but it was so unobtrusive it didn't matter. There were two bakers, one open in the morning, the other in the evening (probably an arrangement that makes a lot of sense), a couple markets with food and wine, a pharmacy, a wine shop, and several restaurants, most of which were closed for the season. There were a few galleries, but they were the kind of galleries where you find the artist at work inside.

I know what everyone says about the French. Rude, snobby.. It was simply not the case in Provence. Perhaps people are talking about Parisians (I did have more of that experience there). I only encountered very friendly folks in the shops and on the street. As you walk down the street in Bargemon, everyone you pass says bonjour or bonsoir. It's just the way, and so you join and greet everyone in kind.

On the very steep 10 minute walk into the village from the house.



So many things, and the very old things especially, are made of stone in France. The building are ancient and a marvel to behold.







Bargemon is known for having some of the purest water in the world. This is a fountain where water pours continuously. People come with their bottles and fill up their drinking water.





The village square at night



Smiling in the midst of old stones.



more to come...

Ah, France!

And now for something completely different! From Poland we fly to France. As we descend into the Nice airport I have a great view of the coast, the red tiled roofs of the houses and palm trees! Even from the air the place feels profoundly different from where we just were. So Django and I arrive at the airport and have to wait a couple hours for Simon to fly in. Not once on this journey has Simon been able to fly with us, bit of a drag. Here we are hanging outside in the balmy climate of the Côte d'Azur.



We caught a train that went along the coast and brought us to Les Arcs du Draguignan, 35km from our destination in the 9th century village of Bargemon. I had read online that there were buses from Les Arcs to Bargemon. We, no make that I, figured we didn't need to invest in a rental car for the whole two weeks, that we would probably want to spend time around the village and if we had a car we'd feel obligated to use it, and why not relax without the pressure to DO... So, we took the train. Can you see this is leading to something? Some little problem perhaps? Well the problem was not only that it was Sunday and the buses wouldn't have been running anyway, but that bus service to Bargemon had been suspended in September. Oh, hindsight makes everything so damn clear doesn't it?! Well, the short story is we ended up paying a taxi 83 Euros (that's $125) to go 35 km (that's 21 miles).


So, we fretted about this during the whole windy-road night time drive to Bargemon, finally found the house and went inside. Suddenly our problems melted away as we came into this lovely house. Wine and food awaited us. It was beautiful.
Now you may be wondering where we came across this wonderful house. Simon belongs to a Danish organization for working songwriters (songwriters making income from their craft) called DPA. They own this and three other properties in Europe. As a member you apply to stay at the house and voila! There we were. Blessed.

It is a tradition for guests to leave wine and food for the next guests, and it made for a warm welcome indeed.

We woke up, opened the wooden shutters on the french doors and found this view.





Close up of the prior view. This is the village of Clavier, across the valley.



Awesome kitchen



view from the livingroom



looking out the door of the second bedroom



On the property looking at the house



the pool that we never used because the water was too damn cold



Yes, it was just that nice out many a day. Django wasn't the only one taking advantage of the weather and the privacy ;-)



Simon and Django going to the olive grove.



Beautiful olives!



Well we decided to harvest some olives and try our hand at salt-curing them. We brought one small jar home with us and they are still sitting in salty brine as they need about three weeks before the bitterness leaves the olives. So I can't report yet on whether we were successful.



Keep a close eye on a toddler carrying a bowl of olives. Sooner or later he's going to want to dump them down a hole by the roots of a tree. Close call!



The medieval village of Bargemon.



We really had a glorious time in France. I absolutely love Provence! It was everything I imagined or hoped it would be. We were extremely lucky with the weather. Sunny most of the time, though a couple days were quite cool. On the day we were leaving the downpours came, but not until then.

more to come...