Summer in Provence part deux

In France, French poodles are not called French nor poodles!

2010-07-31T13:30:00.009+02:00

We have been telling people Niko is half "poodle" pronouncing "poodle" with a French accent. This revelation was always met with blank stares and puzzled looks. We found out why. The French poodles are called "caniche." Who knew! This pearl of wisdom was imparted to us by a veterinarian we met when we took Niko in for his allergies.

Last week Niko's allergies got out of control and he was scratching and biting his skin to the point of drawing blood. Aside from the fact that he was very uncomfortable, we feared his lesions would keep him from entering back into the United States. We were a bit concerned to say the least.

We met a lady in one of the local parks (parc Jordan) who Natasha and I named: "the crazy dog lady." She would not tell us her name or much about herself but spoke to us in rapid French so we always sought her out to practice our French. She is very eccentric and dresses with colorful ethnic jewelry and clothing. She appears not to like many people in Aix but she adores dogs. She has two dogs, who get along well with Niko and we have, on several occasions, met up with her and her dogs.

A few weeks back, when she found out we were planning to take Niko to a vet we found walking around Aix, she was horrified and gave me a card from another vet. From that day on, she asked every time if we have gone to visit the vet. We already had an appointment for his travel certificate with our vet and felt it would be easier not to change vets.

When the crisis with Niko's skin happened, I decided I would give "crazy dog lady's" vet a try. Fortunately, I still had the card and we were able to find the vet with no problem. A very gentle, middle aged vet greeted us and in no time he was examining Niko. His place was very basic with older office equipment and no receptionist. Our other vet's office was modern, sleek and had a polished receptionist. It was also considerably more expensive and we never, in the 3 or 4 times we have been there, actually saw the vet.

The new vet told us, "the crazy dog lady" had mentioned us to him. The vet spoke Spanish and told us he was married to a Salvadoran lady. He also told us, that a few years back he got rid of his expensive practice and downsized his expenses in order to have more time and contact with his clients. We saw this in action. While we were there, two clients came in and interrupted him with questions about their animals and the vet cheerfully addressed their concerns without charging them a cent. He took care of Niko's problem and the bill was very reasonable. The "crazy dog lady" is not that crazy after all.

Today is Saturday and all the street markets are open. We had breakfast in one of the many outdoor restaurants and we walked around town, mingling with the hoards of tourists from all over the world. I have been doing a little souvenir shopping. I am trying to see everything with fresh eyes and not to allow my experiences to be blurred by the dulling effect of familiarity. The weather is fantastic and I am enjoying my last week in Aix. Life is good in Aix en Provence!

I had another outing with my painting class

2010-07-31T00:24:00.007+02:00

Monique (my oil painting instructor) came back from Italy with her usual enthusiasm and energy. I went to her class on Tuesday as agreed and I found her with 3 small children, several students and a line of people waiting to see some apartments she had for rent. The small children turned out to be her visiting grandchildren. The students were an international group, who were taking French classes in the mornings and painting classes with Monique 3 times a week. There were 2 women from Flemish Belgique, a Finish girl, a Japanese young man, a French older lady, an Austrian young woman and 2 French teen agers. Monique was smiling throughout- with no apparent rush or care in the world.

I decided to work on a painting of Cassis, I had started before the break. See seascape painting.

I have been working with oil painting and a knife instead of a brush. One of the reasons, I have been able to use oil paints is because, Monique has introduced be to a miracle soap that cleans oil paint as easily as if they were water based paints. The savon Marseille is made of olive oil and it is fantastic. I have never seen anything like it. This soap is now being "gentry-fied" and spas are selling it with pretty scents and attractive packages- but you can buy the original for very little money. I will be bringing some back to the US, but I wish I could bring more.

Thursday, Monique invited me to join her class to visit the lavender. When I asked her were we were going I was told simply: lavender. I told her in my bad French that was a flower not a place, as far as I knew and she clarified the issue by saying we were going: "on back." Not very precise but an answer. The group left in two cars and we were soon at a lavender farm were we set up to spend the afternoon painting. I was able to paint two lavender fields oil paintings. See pictures of my creations.

Travelling with Annika

2010-07-31T00:10:00.008+02:00

We went along with Lawrence and Natasha to one of their Provence's day outings. We had to buy a new car seat for Annika and we piled in the smallest 4 door car I have ever seen. Annika had a cat nap in the car in a most uncomfortable position (see picture).
We visited a couple of quaint little towns. See Jeff's blog for details of our tri p. I will just include a few pictures.

Getting to know Annika

2010-07-30T22:19:00.005+02:00

Natasha and Lawrence have been taking daily outings discovering the beauty of Provence. They have been renting a car for a week and taking day trips, leaving their bundle of joy, Annika with us for the whole day. Annika is a delightful child but ....oh my... our daily exercise did not get us in shape to deal with Annika. She jabbers as she crawls from one prohibited area to the next. I hadn't realized Jeff had noticed her jabbering until I heard him say: "watch out, taca-taca is heading for the electric fan."

Annika has definite likes and dislikes and she terrorizes Niko, no end. He puts up with her good naturedly but tries to stay out of taca-taca's way. Notice her leg is blurry in the picture? That is because she is multi-tasking: kicking Niko while she drinks her milk. She is strong willed and will be a challenge for her parents. Payback? Actually my girls were a lot easier to keep entertained. For example, Annika knows if we try to shortchange her with a non functioning remote control. She prefers to mess with the ones that we need for the TV. We think (hope) that when she can talk and walk she will be easier to deal with, but I am already envisioning a trial lawyer pint size.

A profitable week painting

2010-07-23T13:43:00.011+02:00

I didn't blog for while but I used my time wisely. In between taking care of my wonderful granddaughter I spent some time painting.

My art instructor, Monique, went to Italy for vacation last week. I decided to paint on my own an acrylic painting I have been thinking about ever since I went to Arles.

In Arles, I saw a Roman coliseum that is currently used for bull fights. The Pamplona bull festival is in full swing this week and I noticed in the French news that there is considerable controversy about the practice of bull fighting, with the animal rights community demonstrating against it. I personally find bull fighting barbaric and not to my taste. At the same time, as an artist, I am attracted to the color and intensity of the dance between the matador and the bull. The Spanish dance, "paso double" is one of my favorites to watch as the staccato music punctuates the encounters of the bull and the matador. Here is my tribute to this ancient dance.

My son in law, Lawrence, liked the painting and I gave it to him for his office in the University of Essex, England.

My daughter Natasha decided she would also like a painting and gave me instructions to do a colorful painting with turquoise as the prominent color. She and Lawrence got engaged in Tahiti and wanted a Tahitian theme with a tribute to the French painter, Gauguin, who painted such wonderful Tahitian women. Here is my interpretation of her wishes.

Dinner with a French family.

2010-07-22T21:55:00.008+02:00

Tuesday night we were invited by one of our conversation partners to have dinner at her place. Fabienne and her husband Marious picked us up at our apartment and took us to their cute house outside Aix en Provence.

They have recently bought a cute puppy and I was wondering if Niko would get along with "Full" (for poker's full-house). When the French say his name it sounds like "fool." Well, to each its own. Niko thought "Fool" was a little foolish and could not be bother with the puppy. After a while he gave up and started playing with him, so he ended up having a great time.

Our daughter Natasha came along. She is more advanced in French than Jeff or myself. Fabienne (pictured with Jeff, Natasha and Annika) and Marious were great hosts and spoke to us in French the whole time and we had a very interesting conversation. They have traveled extensively and every year they spend two months in Rio, Brazil. We had a lot to talk about, sharing our travel experiences.

They barbecued lamb and turkey and roasted vegetables. The wine was supposed to be good, but since my ability to appreciate wine is close to zero, I can't say it was good. We felt very privileged to participate in the normal social life of a French family.

Natasha and Erica just received notice one of the 2 books they have written together got published. We are obviously very proud of our daughters. Natasha, Lawrence and Annika are staying with us for almost a month and we are enjoying this gift that life has sent our way.

Bastille Day

2010-07-15T14:33:00.007+02:00

Yesterday, July 14 was Bastille Day in France. That is the equivalent of our July 4th celebration. The French in Aix did not seem that enthusiastic about the day. In Paris, there were some great parades with the President participating and a lot of fanfare. We watched some of it on the television. The pictures I took here in Aix were of the town dignitaries and members of all the military branches. They paraded just a few blocks from our apartment. In the evening there were fireworks and that was it.

The last couple of days we have been taking care of Annika while Natasha and Lawrence went to Nice to meet up with some friends. She is really active and crawls all over the apartment finding trouble. We are barely ahead of her. She is extremely determined and 100% curious.

Going the Van Gogh way!

2010-07-12T15:20:00.013+02:00

I have always wanted to visit Arles and St. Remy, two places associated with the great Vincent Van Gogh. After our visit with our friend Nicole (see previous blog), we headed to Arles via St. Remy. For miles before entering St. Remy the roads are lined by tall trees. What an effort it must have taken to create such an inviting, symmetrical tree framed roads.

We had lunch in St. Remy, a pleasant town with evidences of the life of the great artist everywhere. Our lunch was very good. Niko was a great hit with everyone and he was a model dog throughout.

We found our hotel in Arles. After a dinner by the pool we called it a night. The next day we drove to the town center to do some site seeing. Arles has so many places to explore, from the Roman ruins, to vestiges of the Middle Ages, to more recent religious buildings and churches. We decided to take the tourist tram. We were told the tram was a waste of money and it was.

We bought a site's pass and were able to visit, with Niko, the Amphitheater, the Roman Theater, the Cloister of Saint Trophime and the Espace Van Gogh (former hospital were Van Gogh was a patient).
The amphitheater could hold 20,000 spectators and it is still used for events such as bull fights.

That night we returned to Aix and we watched final of the World Cup of Soccer with Natasha and Lawrence. I was rooting for Spain. Better luck next time to Van Gogh and his fellow Dutchmen.

Visiting the small villages of Provence

2010-07-12T14:15:00.009+02:00

One of our conversation partners invited us to visit her Summer cottage in the middle of the Vaison region. We decided to spend one night with her and another one visiting Arles, a town made famous by Van Gogh. Nicole's village is named Roaix and had a total of 500 inhabitants. Nicole's petite cottage was on the hill in the ancient section of town near the church and the castle or manor house of the village.

The view from her cottage was picturesque and very quaint. We toured the castle and we were impressed by the manicured grounds. The castle is now owned by a retired American, who owns several homes all over the world and only comes for short visits. We met the housekeeper and the gardener and we were enthusiastically invited to the annual feast provided by the American for people in the village. We were heading for Arles the next evening, so we regretfully declined.

Nicole took us to visit the town were her grandparents lived (Entrechaux) and we had breakfast with her childhood friend. Michel was very engaging and we spent a very enjoyable time talking in French and sharing travel experiences with him. He is an opera buff and we are not but somehow we faked our lack of opera knowledge and were able to participate in the conversation without a hitch. We had other opportunities to briefly converse with the locals and we felt so privileged to experience France from an insiders' perspective.

Vaison la Romaine is a nearby village of 6,000 people. It attracts more tourists than Roaix with its Roman ruins and ancient medieval town. It has a very active cultural life. In the Summer there are many concerts and cultural presentations in its Roman amphitheater. I think Jeff would consider an extended visit to this charming town.

Venturing into "Provence Verte"

2010-07-06T12:21:00.020+02:00

Yesterday was a great day. I had been corresponding with my art teacher (Monique Faillard) about an outing she called a "picnic." She invited the whole family (Natasha, Lawrence, Annika and Jeffrey and even Niko). The time was changed a few times and bringing the baby was scratched when the weather got hot. I wasn't at all certain what to expect. In her last email she announced we will be painting and having the "picnic." A Picnic to me brought images of a park but her yard was large and comfortable enough to share a meal after painting class. I told Jeff to stay back with my contribution to the food and to come by later.

Upon arriving at Monique's studio 20 minutes later than agreed ( I had been forewarned by other outings), I encountered an older Asian lady, a younger woman and 2 girls. The younger woman and girls spoke French but no English and the older woman didn't speak much. After finding out they were Japanese and a few pleasantries, the conversation halted completely. A very awkward silence followed until half and hour later, Monique arrived with all her usual exuberance and charm.

Monique asked about Jeff and I was told to call Jeff and tell him to come at 7:00pm for the meal part. She started taking easels and other material out for our usual set-up. I got my supplies out of my bag and put on my apron only to find out we were going someplace.
I was still not sure what was happening and I was trying to find out what to tell Jeff when she told me not to worry that her husband was going to bring him. We were off in her large SUV at a fast pace, with Monique maneuvering the narrow streets with expert handling of her car. I joked with her about being in NY taxi driver.

We picked up another art student and we left the city. I felt like I had been blindfolded and driven to an undisclosed location with not idea of what awaited me. In the meantime, the Japanese lady became very garrulous and started talking to me in Japanese. She was very expressive and talkative. So between sign language, her limited English and my craziness, we happily carried on a conversation mostly in Japanese with a sprinkle of English words to keep me on track. From then on, I became the official translator for the Japanese lady. It turned out she is an accomplished kimono illustrator and have had exhibitions in France before.

After going for at least an hour and forty five minutes we arrived at our destination, which turned out to be the house of a fellow art student. It was a marvelous location, high on the hills with trees and flowers growing all around. The house was very beautiful with a very inviting swimming pool.

In the meantime, it became obvious there was a serious miss-communication about how to bring Jeff to the site. Both Monique's husband (Dominique) and Jeff thought the other one was driving. With no car between them, the trip was canceled.

Never mind that little hip-cup, I settled down to painting (see picture) and enjoying the site and the company.

Our hosts were a couple, who I later found out, were from Belgium and spoke English. I met the husband, the daughter and two very cute granddaughters. Two large German Shepperd dogs completed the family. They were extremely kind and hospitable to all of us.

Dinner was served around 9:30 pm. It was a very savory fare that included contributions from all of us except me and the best barbecued duck I have ever tasted. The wine, the company and the outdoor dining were very enjoyable. The conversation was mostly in French and I felt privileged to participate in an Provencal night of friends enjoying a meal together.

When meat turns into fish

2010-06-27T22:24:00.004+02:00

The evening after our trip to Ephesus, we searched the marina for a nice place to eat.

We found a very nice spot. It was so close to the water that we had to be careful not to push our chairs back too far for fear of falling over the ledge into the water, some four or five feet below.

When we finished our sampler meat dish, and after paying, we asked for a receipt. After several attempts to convey the idea, the waiter said something we understood to be, “catfish ok?” We said, “NO. We didn’t have the catfish, we had the meat.” Later we found out he was trying to tell us, he had to go back to the cashier. In other words: “cash register, ok?”

After another great breakfast we headed to Izmir airport in our rental car. We flew to Munich and then Marseille and we took the bus to Aix.
Annika and Natasha were waiting for us. They had arrived earlier in the day. Pierre and Jessica, our dog/apartment sitters, were also there. Niko was happy to see us but showed no signs of anxiety or distress. That arrangement worked out super.

Ephesus, site of the Apostle Paul’s great speech

2010-06-26T00:45:00.000+02:00

Jeff has been talking about Ephesus ever since we began planning the trip. I was prepared to be disappointed because these things tend not to live up to the hype. I was wrong. After an easy car ride, we arrived at the site. I rented earphones for an instant history lesson. We strolled around the remains of this magnificent, ancient city and we were awed by the palpable way we could experience history.

We could easily imagine the wonder and excitement of an ancient visitor upon encountering such a city. Marble and beautifully carved stones were evident everywhere. There was a gigantic theater, where the Apostle Paul delivered his great speech against worshiping idols. There was an impressive library. There were public baths and fountains. There was the Agora (market) as well as other public gathering places.

For me the most impressive aspect was the size of the area. You could stroll for almost a mile of time-warn ruins indicating the city’s past. The Turks are not doing as good a job as the Greeks in presenting their historical sites to visitors. Nevertheless, the site speaks for itself.

When in Turkey learn the hand gesture for souvenir vendors

2010-06-25T17:40:00.001+02:00

Breakfast at the hotel courtyard was fantastic. They kept bringing more and more dishes to our table and they were all delicious. We asked the waitress how to say hello and thank you in Turkish. Armed with these two important words (marhala and tesekkuh ederim), we left the hotel to stroll in the marina, located in front of the hotel. To the right of the hotel—in fact, right outside our hotel window, there were thousands of little shops.

We watched the ships and cruise ships in the marina and decided to check out the shops. We were soon bombarded by invitations to enter the shops by very aggressive male Turks. We were doing our best to fend them off with our two Turkish words. It didn’t seem to be working and at one point, Jeff commented, “I think I’m ticking them off with ‘thank you’.” That set us off into a fit of laughter. We kept the hilarity until we arrived to the hotel, where we asked one of the men about what had occurred.

Apparently, when we were saying hello, we were encouraging the vendors and when we said thank you, we were blowing them off. He then showed us a hand gesture to get them to stop bothering us. That’s the last time we’ll try to be so polite!

The Sultana goes to her castle!

2010-06-25T17:15:00.005+02:00

After the “sultan’s wife” massage we had to rush to check out of the hotel and pick up the rental car. Jeff had been studying the directions we had gotten from Google maps and we felt relatively certain we could find our destination. We arrived at Kusadasi with little difficulty and after a few wrong turns, we found our hotel.

Club Caravanserail is a hotel built inside a 16th century castle. I had been looking forward to this stay and we were not disappointed.

Our room was full of nooks and crannies and interesting details.
The hotel has two floors. The second floor is where the rooms are. There is a large veranda that looks down onto the courtyard. The place at night looks super romantic. I still had the glow of my “sultana’s massage,” so it was not hard to feel right at home.

We promptly signed up for the Turkish Night taking place that night. We got “dressed up”—well, sort of. We went downstairs to the square courtyard that had tables set up for 400 people.
Our room name—Omlet—indicated our table seating. We were told that we could have all the drinks we wanted as well as multiple servings at the appetizer’s table. The entrée would be served later. We went to the appetizer tables and we found at least 25 dishes beautifully presented. As usual, in these occasions of super food abundance, we piled up our plates. I even threw in a chicken nugget or two designed to please the kids. I was ready to feast. One bite told me I was in for a challenge. I tried something else in my plate—same result. I went through all the tantalizing dishes and not one of them could I eat. The chicken nuggets saved the day. I went back for more chicken nuggets.
The entrée was good and the service was outstanding. I was happy.

We had a great table, the weather was perfect for outdoor dining and the company was great.

The entertainment started with an elegant lady dressed in all white playing the violin. See video for a sample of the entertainment.It was followed by several other entertainers, including folk dancers, a rhythm player, belly dancers and a female and male singer.

All were spectacular and we really enjoyed ourselves. The evening started at eight and it wasn’t over until 11:30 p. m.

It was truly a most romantic and memorable evening.

When in Turkey, hit the baths

2010-06-25T15:52:00.002+02:00

I convinced Jeff to have a Turkish bath and a massage. He had never had a massage, so Turkey seemed as good a place as any to try one.
I selected the “Sultan’s Wife” package for me, and the economy one for Jeff. We went to the spa at the appointed time and upon arriving we were ushered into a room to change. I inquired about robes and I received a nod for an answer. After 5 minutes the attendant came back and was surprised to find us still with our clothes on. I asked about the robes again and this time he came back with 2 narrow sarong type wrappings. Jeff was wearing a bathing suit but I needed another wrap to feel modest in my attire.
We covered ourselves the best we could and followed the attendant to the Turkish bath room. It turned out to be an all-marble spacious room with seats all around the wall and water spouts at many intervals. We each had our own same sex attendant and we were soon showered with relaxing bucketfuls of warm water. We were then asked to lie side by side, spread eagled, on a raised marble pedestal. Movies and an American sensibility brought to mind human sacrificial offerings to some ancient Turk God or Goddess. At least we were going down together.

Not to worry, soon we were covered with soap foam and each part of the body got a thorough cleaning followed by vigorous scrubbing. After rinsing, Jeff was taken to another room for his relaxing massage.
My female attendant covered my entire body with a cleansing mask and left me on the pedestal for 30 minutes to dry my mask out. I noticed it was getting a little stuffy in the room, but like magic a refreshing breeze came into the room. I was enjoying its effects when, suddenly, I remembered I was only wearing bottoms. I became suspicious and opened my eyes to investigate. Sure enough, the door was wide open with me on my marble pedestal, available for viewing by any passerby. Darn it! I should have told the attendant I was NOT European! And to think we went into such contortions at the beginning to be modest. Oh well, when in Rome (Bodrum)!

I was taken next to have my Bali style massage (over an hour). I never saw the masseuse since I was on my stomach when he came. He soon started to vigorously massage my right leg. He was taking so long with that leg, that I started to suspect he had a fetish with that part of my body. I was about to suggest I had a nice back that needed attention, when he took a sudden dislike to the leg and started slapping it.

As it turned out, my “eunuch” (not really, but I prefer to think of him that way) gave equal attention to all the parts of my body. It was a terrific massage. I could get used to being a sultan’s wife.

You must speak Turkish to get an omelet.

2010-06-25T09:29:00.002+02:00

The breakfast fare at the hotel was a large buffet. I decided to join the omelet line. A couple of Turkish girls went up to the front of the line and started to get their crepes and omelets. A couple of times, it appeared to be my turn but each time one of the girls would come back for one more.

The cook and the girls were talking in Turkish but it was clear that the imperious way of the “Turkish princesses” was winning over the surly manner of the cook. Nine serving later, the line had grown to great proportions and the grumbling was a roar. The cook was contentious and defiant. At one point he was rude to a girl who didn’t understand his word for plate. When she finally got it, she tried to teach him the correct way to say it, but in her British accent it sounded to him like polite. He went on a tirade about the fact that he was polite and she wasn’t.

I left the line sans eggs but a British couple made an attempt to get me my egg- after the girls had their own private buffet. They brought an unappetizing half fried egg, which they determined was disgusting and advised me not to eat. I didn’t. I concluded you must speak Turkish to get your egg.

A meal to remember- NOT

2010-06-25T09:22:00.000+02:00

We went to downtown Bodrum and walked around the marina. We decided to forgo the free continental style dinner at the hotel and try Turkish food. We selected an outdoor restaurant that looked spacious to us. I asked the waiter about some food listed in the menu and in order to explain what it was he brought a vessel that looked suspiciously like an urn. I said no to the urn and any potential remains.

I decided to go for the recommended fish. The waiter assured me I would love the fish (sole). He jokingly told me that if I loved it I would have to pay twice. I told him that if I didn’t, he was going into the urn.

After a 45 minute wait, my fish came. 4 small kebab-size fish pieces. The worst fish I have ever tasted. The Macdonalds- filet o’ fish is a gourmet delicacy by comparison. I left it mostly untouched and I noticed there was no sign of our waiter and no-one asked if we enjoyed the meal. Jeff 's meal was only slightly better.

As we strolled back to the taxi area, we noticed that our restaurant was empty while the others were quite full. Someone knew something we didn’t know.

We resolved next time never to complain when we have to wait to get seated.

The car rental agency that was not there (Marmaris, Turkey)

2010-06-24T17:43:00.000+02:00

Our boat ride from Rhodes Town turned out ok. The sea sickness pills did a good job. We asked a taxi driver to takes us the 10 minute ride to the center of town (Marmaris) to pick up our rental car. He assured us he knew where to go but an hour later, we were still roaming Marmaris asking for directions and stopping to call the company or to inquire at other car rental places. The final verdict: the agency did not exist. The inquiry was done by our taxi driver who was hinting he could takes us to Bodrum, 2 and a half hours away by taxi.

On our insistance, he took us to a car rental he knew, where we had to wait for the “boss” to come deal with us. The boss spoke English and made a big show of dialing the numbers we had for our rental car agency. He also declared, it didn’t exist, but he could give us a good deal on a car.

Between the two offers, we decided to go with the taxi driver. It was getting late. With the long ride to Bodrum we were looking at arriving at our hotel around 10:00 pm. We took off and after a few minutes, the driver stopped the taxi and picked a man from the side of the road. He introduced the man as his father and off we went. Several miles later he got off. His uncle happened to be on the road a few miles later and we rode together for a while. The driver stopped and bought us water and shared his peanuts with us. He showed us a picture of his “darling.” He asked if we wanted to smoke. We said no, that I was allergic and he acknowledge it as a good idea not to smoke and then he promptly lit up his own cigarette.

When we got to our destination, the driver seemed to be going in circles assuring us all the while he knew were to go. Finally, he stopped the car at a taxi stand. Pretty soon, our driver got in the back seat with me. I was hoping this was a not a set up of some kind. But not to worry, another taxi driver from a completely different company, took over the wheel of our taxi and drove us to our hotel.

The hotel is very nice and after signing in, they put a plastic band in our wrist like those worn by hospital patients. I reluctantly extended my arm and hoped we were not being certified in some asylum for the insane. We learned the bands were for an “all inclusive package” we were getting. Kind of like the Club Med idea.

Donkey ride....never again!

2010-06-24T17:16:00.000+02:00

We were told the best way to visit the Lindos Acropolis was to go up by donkey. We went to the center of town where the donkeys were and paid our 5 euros each. A roller coaster without brakes about describes the donkey ride. We felt totally out of control. Our donkey handler was surely and more mulish than our donkeys. He was in great hurry and took off with the two of us on donkeys before he had a chance to put our feet in the stirrups. He did that later on the ride when it became apparently that 2 Americans were going down.

My donkey was very skittish and instead of following Jeff’s, wanted to overtake him in this narrow precipitous path with very little room for a passing lane. Upon arrival, the handler swept the donkeys out from under us before we could catch our breath. We had to pay later for a chance to take the photo in this blog. The Acropolis was very impressive but after the Athenian Acropolis, it was hard to be in awed!

While waiting to take the dreaded yacht that would take us from Greece to Turkey, I was shopping in one of the many tourist shops by the port when an old Greek decided to half moon me. He then talked to me, but I couldn’t understand him, because it was all Greek to me. (I couldn’t resist it!). When I spoke English to him, his wife, the owner of the shop, was horrified. He thought I was Greek and was making fun of the young people with their pants worn so low on their hips.

Lindos, Greece is truly lindo (beautiful in Spanish)

2010-06-24T16:46:00.000+02:00

After an hour bus ride from Rhodes City we arrived at the quaint and picturesque town of Lindos. We had an issue finding our hotel. It turned out the name of the owner was more recognizable than the hotel’s name. Going up and down hilly streets with a backpack in a hot day is not the most auspicious way to start a vacation. Eventually we arrived at our hotel, which in all fairness had an amazing view of the town and adequate accommodations. It did not have a lobby or anyway to get in touch of the owner if you didn’t have a cell phone. The promised wi-fi did not work and the pool and advertized facilities were a few minutes away in a larger hotel.

The owner suggested we leave the money for the hotel on the little table provided to eat snacks. He said, would pick up the next day. We were not about to pay him and we were strategizing how to find other accommodations. No internet made it difficult and we gave up and decided to make the best out of the situations. On the plus side, it was cheap and the hotel seemed to welcome us as one of their own. We spent some time at the hotel and ate our first breakfast by the pool.

The next day, George the owner came by to collect the rent and made a much better effort to be charming. He fixed the wi-fi and showed me how to reset it in the future. He had lived in the States until age 11 but seemed to be 100% Greek . He told us all about the Greek Orthodox church, which he attended faithful once a year for Easter. We suggested Christmas but he emphatically denied he attended Church then. He asked for a good guest review of his hotel. I think if you think of the place as a “self-catering” residence, you can be more positive. Over-all it worked fine for our purposes.

The town of Lindos is like no other I have ever seen. There are no streets as we know them. There are paths that are narrow and used primarily for walking and bikes, but the occasional car or truck ventures forth, with little regard for pedestrians.

When the cruise ships land, there are thousands of extra people creating quite a mayhem. There is a beautiful cove and beach and an impressive Acropolis on a hill. There are tons of restaurants and cafes and lots of shops, mostly souvenir vendors. The restaurants have a roof terrace and the view and ambiance is very pleasant.

I decided to cut my hair and a very nice young woman, mother of twins cut it for me. She told me the majority of people work in Lindos for 7 months and then go back to whatever village they are from and don’t work there.

We meet “Zorba the Greek”

2010-06-24T09:50:00.005+02:00

After dreading the boat trip that would take us to Rhodes, we had a wonderful time in the ship. Jeff was amazed at the facilities and even suggested a cruise for us in the future.

We had been afraid we wouldn’t be able to shower in the ship, and were pleasantly surprised to find a bathroom and a shower. The cabin was small but had everything we needed for a pleasant night sleep.

We were attempting to contact our daughters with Skype when a Greek girl asked about internet access. Her father took over when it was clear she couldn’t make herself understood in English. When I say he took over, I mean it literally. His name was Ernie and he was a larger than life personality. He was very excited to meet Americans. He was even more impressed when he found out Jeff was a "priest"

He told us his daughter was super stupid for having 5 years in an all English school and not able to say much. We tried to correct him about the stupid, but he said, "NO!" that was exactly what he meant. He seemed to have great love for his children, who is raising by himself, so we made allowances.

He pulled out a picnic with food and drinks which he kept offering to us. We were in the fancy restaurant area, but he seemed un-preturved by the waiters nearby who he seemed to have in his pocket. After conversing for an hour or so, he started to get pillows and blankets to ready himself and family for bed. We excused ourselves when it was clear people were going to bed. When he realized we had a cabin and were vacating prime "sleep space" he was besides himself with gratitude.

We found him the next day in the same spot engaged in animated conversation with everyone. Ernie decided to appoint himself as our tour guide. He kept telling us facts that were promptly corrected by his fellow passengers. Pretty soon he had a conversation going with everyone in the large restaurant area. His favorite word was "opposite." Every location was opposite of something and if you think about it he is right. He talked passionately about a former politician he considered very crooked and he said: "he was best stupid." I guess that is most stupid you can get.

He pointed out the local casino and Playboy club and then he told a passersby he had just tried to send a "priest" to Playboy. He tried to tell us about a great spot and was describing fish and market, so I assumed it was a fish market until a lady shouted out: "aquarium." He promptly laughed good nature-ly and continued spewing out facts that we had to wait to have confirmed by other people.

When he found out we were going to take a taxi, he was horrified and said that was "not too little money" and offered to take us in his car, which was stored in the bottom of the boat. We piled up in his Volswagen. He took us to the bus stop that would take us to Lindos and when we found out we had a couple hours to kill, he offered to take us for an ice cream cone and to view the town. He was very proud of his country and drove us everywhere. He was very accommodating about taking pictures and I got some very nice shots of Rhodes City. We have met many very "curt" Greeks, but Ernie was one in a million and he made up for half of his Country with his charm and expansive personality.

The Athenian Acropolis, amazing!

2010-06-21T11:33:00.011+02:00

It is hard to describe the splendor and magnificence of the Athenian Acropolis. First of all, there is a hill to climb so when you arrive at the top the view from above is breathtaking.

I have known about the Acropolis since my school years, growing up in Panama, dreaming of visiting these exotic far away places. So you can well imagine my excitement on seeing with my own eyes such a marvel. Even our daughters have commented upon seeing the pictures, how they can't believe their parents are doing this.

I have taken considerable number of pictures (here are a few) and you can view them all at my Facebook account by copying and pasting the following link:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?id=1499168312&pid=31165921#!/photo.php?pid=31165922&id=1499168312&fbid=1477119456834

I won't bore you with technical details (which I don't know very well) but apparently the original friezes and sculptures were painted in bright colors, so one can well imagine the striking effect they must of had.

We also visited the recently opened Acropolis Museum which helped fill in the gaps and gave a more complete picture of the building. The museum is located on the bottom of the the Acropolis hill, so you can view the museum and glance at the real thing at the same time. It is also built on top of an archeological site and upon entering, you walk on glass, allowing the visitors to view the dig under our feet. We had a snack in the cafeteria with a view of the Acropolis. See photo.

In the design of the museum, the inside display area is built to the exact dimensions of the Parthenon in order to display the friezes, sculptures and statues in their original position. When they don't have any preserved pieces, they leave a gap and when the pieces have been "stolen" by other countries and are displayed in some foreign museums (ie. the British Museum) they have a cast mold of the originals. Greece continues to lobby to other countries to get the pieces back, with little success. For example one of the statue-pillars is in England while the rest in the museum, but the Brits refuse let the statue join its sisters. See picture.

Here is a picture of an old Greek guy, who upon seeing my camera, promptly turned his back, he figured his front was worth 3 euros. I liked his backside better than his sour face.

The rest of sight seeing day in Athens was spent it in a bus tour. Here are a few pictures.

Three temperature zones, it seemed! Taxi drive, free entertainment

2010-06-19T17:30:00.004+02:00

We left an unusually rainy Aix for our trip to Greece with a temperature around 75 F. We stopped at Munich (see picture from the plane) where the temperature was in the 50’s and we arrived to low 90’s in Greece. Very challenging packing for an over- packer like me who was on severe space restriction.

The good news is that Niko has fallen in love with our apartment sitter, so he barely noticed when we left. She apparently had been trying on perfume samples and Niko was enthralled. He is in very good hands with some friends of our daughters who came to stay in our flat while we are away. Happy sniffing, Niko.

When we arrived in Athens, we attempted to get information and joined a group of people in front of the information booth. Jeff asked a lady if he was in a line and she responded dryly in a British accent: “It’s Greece.” Apparently order is not a strong suit in this Country. We were then told, there was a transportation strike and the buses will resume in an hour and half. Taxis, we were told would be expensive. We bought our tickets and waited with a mob of fellow travelers. We met a group from Uruguy arriving for a Gnostic conference. At 20 min. before the announced time a bus arrived and the commotion was great. We decided to wait for a more orderly bus but none came for a long time. Time to go for the taxis. We were able to get a refund for the bus.

Our taxi driver spoke English as he put it: “so and so.” He was immensely entertaining as he rattled on about his life and the people he liked and disliked. We took a picture of him with Jeff.

First of all he was “verrry happy” about the strike, it meant lots of business for him. Jeff asked if his wife was happy and he said, “of course, she doesn’t work.” His son was very smart going to study dentistry, his daughter not so smart, just liked the beach.

He liked Obama’s speeches. Besides Obama, Kennedy was the only other American president he liked. He had opinions on all the different nationalities, mostly based on how they tipped. He liked Americans a lot. He also like the Dutch and the Italians. He was definitely not crazy about the French and the English.

Our hotel in Athens, The Amalia Hotel, was centrally located and had a nice enough room. We have not had the best experience with customer service. The Greek (the few we have met, have been interesting and entertaining but a little abrupt and not that helpful. The French get a bad wrap but they have been nothing but kind and helpful to us.

The first day in Athens we saw a gigantic demonstration that we can clearly see from our hotel window. See picture, not clear due to the smoke film of the windows.

The first evening we found the glistening remains of ancient Greek buildings outlined in the sky. It gives you goose pimps. We went out to restaurant with very bad singers, who nevertheless were entertaining us with the mellow sounds of Greek and English songs.

Jeff wears capri pants

2010-06-16T11:34:00.002+02:00

Jeff and his friend Gary sport capri pants, a common Summer wear for men in France. He hasn't worn them outside the apartment but I think Greece and Turkey will get the nod.

Yesterday we had unusual Summer rains, after a perfect record of a whole month. I took the opportunity to do a sketch in watercolor of the town of Cassis.

We are getting ready for our trip to Greece and Turkey tomorrow. Some friends of Natasha and Lawrence will house sit for us and take care of Niko. We only have an evening to get Niko used to his new caretakers but if he made the 16 hour trip in the plane fine, I am sure he will be ok.

I am proud of myself. Sunday night I went to the movies with one of our conversation partners and the movie was all in French with no subtitles. I was able to understand a lot, enough to enjoy even some of the jokes, so I felt good about my abilities to understand French.

Europe is bathroom challenged!

2010-06-12T22:54:00.004+02:00

I have been meaning to write about this very important subject for a while but I wanted to gather enough evidence. The thing I miss most about the good old USA is the abundance of bathrooms. I still don't understand how the French women do it. It seems logical to me that if you drink wine in abundance..... you need a bathroom. Forget bathrooms in department stores, government buildings, drugstores or any areas where large numbers of people congregate. For what I can gather, the only place to find bathrooms (one bathroom) is in the restaurants. So the logic is you pay for a drink and then use the bathroom. The French have a nice racket going.

The French children and dogs have it easy. We have seen 8 year old girls relieving themselves in the public street. Little boys play aiming games from any angle of the busy streets and of course dogs have the run of the land.

There are a few pay as you go bathrooms, but they are not abundant. I would be happy to budget a small fortune if I could solve my bathroom logistic problems. But alas, not to be. Given this scenario, it is not hard to imagine that I am very pleased to go to any bathroom regardless of size and condition. I have been to one so tiny that every time I moved my head, I set off the automatic hand dryer. It startled me at first but I soon learned not to move my upper body.

My favored exotic bathroom experience was at the bathroom pictured, located at the Avignon Popes Gardens. As you can see in the picture, it might appear to be a shower but it is toilet. It has handles in both sides, where you hold yourself to keep you from falling in the hole. The best way to describe it is it feels like you are ready to give birth.

On the other extreme, there are the super modern bathrooms that are so minimalistic it is hard to figure out how to turn the lights on. My friend Dianne learned this fact the hard way. She was ready to board the TGV (fast train) and she decided to go to the bathroom. A lady was coming out and held the door open for her. When the door closed behind her all hell broke loose. Water started to shoot out from all directions, getting her quite wet. After the whole place had been disinfected, the lights went out and she was engulfed by total darkness.

By now she is thinking she is in some candid camera joke or a twilight-zone movie and wants the host to say: "smile you are in Candid Camera." No such luck, as her heart is racing like crazy, she felt the walls with her hands until something clicked the lights on. Moral of the story: don't try to sneak in one of these bathrooms without paying. I am sure Dianne would have been happy to pay if she had known. My guess is that Europeans would never have assumed it was free.

Avignon

2010-06-12T22:11:00.005+02:00

We went to avignon with our friends Gary and Dianne. We used a GPS device to get us there and it did its job admirably. At one point on the way back, we got off track and the woman's voice in the device started to get frantic. With good reason, we were in a maze of small streets and alleys, with steep inclines and other challenging driving conditions. When the car wanted to roll back with a few inches to spare in either side, it was time to worry. Gary, the driver handled it with great skill and we were soon back in the slightly larger roads.

We had been to Avignon a few years back, but this time we got to see the gardens where we could imagine the popes strolling with their entourages, planning the next political plot. The view from above was incredible.

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The large platform pictured is located on top of a hill and the view of the river and the town below is fantastic. Lucky popes!

On that same trip we went into the mountain area to visit a town by the name of Sault. It had been recommended to Gary and Dianne by some of friends who had honeymooned there. Well, I was very skeptical. Most honeymooners are lucky if they remember the scenery and see everything with rose colored glasses, but I went along for the ride. Little did I knew the view from the mountains was simply breathtaking. Every angle was a finished painting with perfect composition.

The smurffs and other film characters

2010-06-06T18:20:00.004+02:00

Yesterday, was the day the French Television was going to tape my art class' outing to the famous Ste. Victoire mountain.

The TV crew was a couple of hours late arriving at Monique's studio. It didn't bother me since I had a chance to talk to the other students and practice my French a little bit.

I met an American young man from the San Diego area. He is a highly successful engineer, who had founded a music file company for the internet. He has since sold that company to Yahoo and is re-charging his creative batteries with a year in Provence. He is here with his wife and 5 year old daughter.

There was another engineer, a young lady from Taiwan, who quit her job designing LCD screens to spend 3 months in France. There were also two French ladies who have been taking classes for a while. Also part of the entourage were Monique and her husband. Monique's mother also stopped by while we were waiting.

I had started to suspect the TV crew was never going to show when here come 2 young men with tons of equipment. They are doing a special series on the delights of Provence (Echappees Belles) that will air in September.

We loaded all our painting stuff and we took off for the country. One of the crew members spoke a little English and Spanish. The English he learned from his parents (who were originally from Martinique but had spent time in New York). The Spanish he learned from a senorita espanola.

Ste. Victoire mountain has been immortalized by famous impressionists like Cezanne. The day had perfect weather and and the view was magnificent. We felt so inspired and ready to capture the beauty all around us. Well that was the theory. The reality felt a little short for me as I wrestled with the oil painting medium. Monique's rendering was great and some of the other students did well as well.

At one point, when I was trying to release my painting from the easel the wind blew the canvas right into my face. This is NOT watercolor or acrylic and I had a perfect imprint of the blue sky I had just painted all over my face. While the class struggled to name what my visage reminded them- all the while attempting not to laugh at me- It finally dawned on me what they thought I looked like. Soon after that they kept saying "les schtroumpfs" to peels of laughter. The Smurfs of course! The only thing that kept this experience from being totally humiliating is that the crew had put away their equipment.

Overall, it was a great day, and even the good nature ribbing I received helped me feel more integrated to the French life and culture.

Waiting in lines and a bus family

2010-06-04T16:45:00.006+02:00

One of my art teacher's friends had recommended we met her at her tennis club. Since we don't have a car we decided to investigate the bus situation. We arrived at the Tourist Office where they sell the bus tickets. Jeff tried one line and was told we needed to go to the long line- almost out the door long line.

While I was waiting in line, I overheard some old ladies complaining about the wait. The city has recently computerized their bus passes and all the older people needed to get new passes. In recent days there has been an additional attendant to handle these matters. As the ladies' grumbling got more heated, I felt I should add my 2 cents worth. As they nodded their agreement with my "beef" I felt I was making some in-rows in assimilating to the culture.

After the long wait, I was told we needed to go to the bus station to get a County bus. When we got there, the attendant told us we needed to go back to the Tourist Office. Feeling like a ping pong ball, we persuaded the attendant to go the extra mile. After listening to our broken French she took pity on us and looked up the information in the internet.

She then told us-- with a slight smile and an emphasis on the word tennis-that we would have to walk a little bit from the bus stop to play tennis. I got the hint and told her in very bad French that if we could play tennis, we should be able to walk. The people in line seemed to get my attempt at humor and laughed.

Oil painting with a provencal twist

2010-06-02T23:00:00.000+02:00

A few months ago I contacted Monique Faillard (see photo) for the possibility of taking some painting classes while I was in Provence. She has had a lot of experience and had a multitude of citings in the internet for a variety of endeavors. She was very charming and welcoming in her emails. In person she has exceeded my expectations. Her studio, "Ateliers du Soleil" (Studio of the Sun) well describes the Provencal sunshine and her sunny personality. She is generous with her praise, time and knowledge. She might make an oil painter out of me yet.

I was impressed with her cheerful setting, very conducive to painting but I was delighted with the other participants. Everyone was charming and friendly. There are a lot of international students in the studio but the French women I met were specially nice. I enjoyed listening to them chatting away- even though I didn't always understood what they said. I smiled and nodded. They probably think I am a bit of a simpleton.

Monique has been featured on French television before and apparently they contacted her to film her again. She asked me to be in the video with her class, so I might be on French T.V. Now I wish I had gone in that diet but... the baguettes keep calling my name.

In the way home from class I took a wrong turn, but there are not wrong turns in Aix. I ended up in front of a beautiful cathedral and obelisk that somehow I had previously missed. See pictures.

Day trip to Marseilles

2010-05-30T21:06:00.001+02:00

Today was the last day of the French National Watercolor Society Exhibit and I was bound and determined to see it. It was being held at the Hotel de Ville (City Building) in Marseilles. We found out the bus number to get us to town but we were uncertain as to the exact location. Jeff showed a surprising spirit of adventure and went along with my half baked plans. Upon arriving to the City we were left at the North African neighborhood. See picture on the left.

With no clear directions we started to ask people for directions. At one point, we came upon some firemen who were "assisting" a drunk sprawled on the sidewalk. We figured if anyone knew the city, it would be the firemen. The 3 young firemen were eager to help and as they were discussing among themselves were the Hotel de Ville was, the drunk shouted out: "Straight ahead, not too far from here." He was right.

The exhibit was very nice and the building was located near the old port area, so we decided to have lunch at a very pleasant outdoor cafe. The waiter's dog kept barking at the customers and passersby. The waiter would simply mildly reprimand him and go on serving customers. That would never do in the USA. I also felt so proud of Niko, he would have behaved better than that French mutt.

Jeff have been insisting, I speak to him in Spanish when in public. He is fearful of coming across as a loud "ugly American." Besides the utter confusion he has thrown my aging brain in, I am now fearful of being perceived as an "ugly Spaniard." Any one who knows Jeff, knows his whispers are loud enough to be heard in a different County. There has been a new twist to his communication. He is now good enough to speak to me in French. Today, he was "whispering" to me in French about our fellow bus riders. I had to stop that right away and I told him, I was NOT going to gossip in French about the French people. He had the grace to laugh.

Elegant French women

2010-05-29T20:08:00.001+02:00

The French women in Aix dress very well and are very pretty. The men... well, very tight capri pants and kissing during greetings do not make them appear very manly. Appearances are deceiving, judging by the amount of couples kissing on the streets. The look is growing on me and I am trying to talk Jeff into Capri pants, but I don't expect to have much luck.

Today we were promenading down the main street and the women were as elegant as ever. High heels and expensive get-ups made me feel slightly dowdy with my sensible shoes and comfortable pants. And then, a bird decided to bless me right in the neck area where it was visible and impossible to clean up before I got home. The more I tried the worse the spot was. I am going out tonight and I am wearing high heels if it kills me.

Looking for an art class, not as easy as it seems!

2010-05-28T18:27:00.004+02:00

Today I had an appointment to visit an artist who gave art classes. When we arrived we ascertained that I was in the wrong place. We were told there were two artists with the same studio name. No big deal we just had to take bus number 21. We found the right bus and a nice young bus driver helped us out and told us where to get off.

After climbing a hill in an area of large country homes, we couldn't find the Academy of Art. There was no one around so we entered this large gate. A lady came out, somewhat perturbed that we were trespassing. It turned out we were trespassing on the Belgium Consulate. Niko did his best imitation of a white flag wagging his tail and once the lady ascertained we were too old to mount and attack on the Consulate, she was very nice to us.

The academy we were looking for was in an obscure path under some shrubs. Notice the arrow on the picture. Upon arriving at the camouflaged door we discovered no one home. Surprise! We had to trek back down hoping to find a bus to take us back to Aix. While sitting on the ground like 3 refugees, the Belgium Consulate lady came by in her car and was concerned about us making it back.

The Bus happened to come by at that moment but since we were distracted with the lady, I didn't have Niko in the required bag and our stuff was spread on the ground, so we had to hastily gathered our belongings and sprint for the bus, only to find out it was the same bus driver on her way back. I think we made more than a few Frenchmen smile in the bus at the ridiculous picture we presented.

On our way back we discovered all the handicapped associations were having a fair and there were several activities for the blind and other people with disabilities. Very nice.

Since we had the paperwork to join the tennis club we decided to go and get that done. Well, we hit dejeneur (lunch) and there was no one to tell us for sure if the office staff would come back. It was Friday afternoon, so the odds were not with us. We decided to have lunch at the club. We are learning how to survive. When in doubt, eat! The office staff was leisurely eating lunch next to our table and once their meal was completed we were able to finish our business as well. Very efficient in a French kind of way.

Going to the doctor in France.

2010-05-27T20:55:00.002+02:00

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We visited two tennis clubs and found out what was necessary to join one of them. The public one is very inexpensive but required 2 photos, an application and a doctor's certificate. Upon receiving such news, we felt we might not be playing. Everyone said, not a problem.

We got some addresses for local doctors and we went to one of them on Wednesday, only to find out they were closed for the day. The rest of the week were only open a few hours between the long lunch hour. Some of the days was by appointment and others by drop in. None of it seem to work out for us, so we felt it wasn't going to happen.

Jeff decided to brave the telephone (anyone learning a new language knows the phone is the hardest place to communicate) and call the other doctor's name we had. Jeff was told to call back at 2:30 p.m. When he did, he was told by the same man to just drop in before 5:00 p.m. It turned out it was the doctor himself answering the phone but we wondered why he didn't tell us to come in the afternoon when we called in the morning. Maybe he was waiting to see if he felt like seeing patients in the afternoon.

After a couple of wrong turns and a long walk we arrived at the right building. The intercom did not function well, but we sneaked in with another patient. Upon arrival to the large but empty waiting area we wondered what to do next. A tall, very affable man greeted us. It turned out it was the doctor himself. He was Dutch and very friendly. He spoke English. He was available for house calls everyday.

I worried I didn't have all the names of my meds and if I should have taken a shower before the exam, etc. etc. I should not have worried. He took one look at us and determined we were healthy and sound. Not even a cursory question about our health. He struggled with his printer and after a few attempts he declared all was well and that he was going to make his signature look pretty. End of story.

The French start working.

2010-05-25T13:51:00.001+02:00

After a period of a few days of inactivity celebrating Pentecost, the French are back to work with great zeal. This morning we were woken up by bulldozers and cranes making their way into our street. Niko is overly stimulated by all the action.

The French "make the bridge" anytime there is a holiday in the middle of the week. If Thursday is off, why bother with Friday and they throw in Monday for good measure. But when Tuesday comes, they work like fiends, barely stopping for a break. What a Country! Here are a couple of pictures from our apartment where an enormous crane is lifting large bundles of wood.

I wish I could have been able to take a picture of the older man in his seventies I saw today. He was wearing crapi pants with spadrilles and walking with a cane. He looked very stylish and sedate but when he hopped on a motorcycle and went off I had to re-consider my original assumptions.

Cassis, a not so well known jewel on the Riviera

2010-05-20T22:20:00.024+02:00

Thursday, we arranged for Donal, our landlord to give us a tour around the area. He has a mini van and offers this service. He is Irish and has a wonderful gift of gab. He kept us entertained and well informed.

We had no idea what a wonderful treat awaited us. We started in Marseilles' old port area.

We then went to the market area, where the smells, sights and people were colorful, vibrant and stimulating. Donal treated us to a North African sweet mint tea and pastries. Delicious!

We then headed for the cathedral, Notre Dame de le Garde, pictured here. We had to climb quite a bit, since the church location was planned as a fort first. The view, the view, the view.

Niko was not allowed in the top area but when I suggested to Donal I stay behind, he said, "no way! Come, this is France!" The inside of the church is magnificent. See picture.

The weather was perfect and it showed the area to its finest perfection.

After the church we headed for Cassis- a town that was recommend to me by one of my old buddies from the park benches. What a jewel of a town! It is next to the water with quaint and inviting outdoor cafes. The color of the water was simply amazing.

For lunch, Donal suggested the specialty of the house, a seafood dish. Donal, Jeff and Cliff ordered it and when they brought the mussels bowl to Jeff, he immediately moved it to my place, saying: "this can't be for me, I have no idea how to eat it." He has expanded his horizons and can now shell mussels. We took a picture of this momentous occasion.

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Family arrives!

2010-05-19T14:14:00.005+02:00

Erica and Cliff arrived Sunday after spending some time in England were Erica had to present a paper at Natasha's and Lawrence's university. Cliff and Lawrence went to Barcelona while Erica, Natasha and Annika spent a couple of days in London. After England they went to Geneva to visit some friends and will spend 6 days with us. They like lots of action so we have been playing tennis, playing bridge, walking, eating, drinking wine, going to the parks, etc. etc. etc. Aren't you tired already.

Today they took the train to Avignon, so the old folks have a quiet time. Niko and I warmed up my usual bench but this time there were no takers for my interesting conversation, so I mainly spoke to Niko who seemed quite taken with my input. Maybe it was the piece of bread I had in my pocket, but I couldn't have asked for a more attentive audience.

Cliff knows the least French of the group, but he is gifted with languages and basically fearless when talking to people. So, we didn't think anything of him going to purchase two coke zeros until we saw a melee forming at the food stand with the lady attendant and the cook engaged on a somewhat heated discussion with Cliff and then Erica. They insisted Cliff pay more money. Erica was finally able to understand that somehow, Cliff had ordered some pizza slices as well.

There was no backing out of that from the vendors' point of view since the pizza had already been cooked. So now when we ask each other if we want some coke we say: "would you like some pizza." Very amusing. On left is a picture of the scene of the crime.

A beautiful day to stroll around.

2010-05-13T22:15:00.002+02:00

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I heard a lady say she was worried she might miss
"la guagua" and I knew a little of Miami was here. Yes, it was a Cuban lady on a cruise with her daughter and yes, we had a great time talking about the distinct language of the Cuban people.

We also went to a wonderful park where Niko could have had a great time, running without leash---- if he had behaved. He seems to be intent in scaring away all the French dogs, including all the big ones -specially the big ones.

The park was beautiful with a creek running nearby and lots of trees and green grass. We will be returning there on Saturday for a picnic sponsored by the church we visited Sunday.

Other than apologizing for Niko's behavior we didn't get to talk French too much today. But yesterday we met with a French lady who is very intent in learning English. She invited us to her house (it was outside the town but she picked us up in her car) and we studied both languages for over 3 hours. She has traveled a lot and she was quite interesting. The session was very productive and we will meet again next week.

Today there were several street musicians who made our strolling very enjoyable. In the picture on right, just beyond Jeffrey and Niko, a Perubian musician entertains us with beautiful flute music.

We target the aged!

2010-05-11T10:38:00.000+02:00

Today was the most beautiful yet, so we took advantage of the balmy sunny weather to relax in an outdoor cafe--Niko too.

It seems good weather brings the talkative in the French, at least the older generation. My strategy is to find that lonely person with no life and offer him/her my scintillating conversation. It has worked and we had 3 wonderful conversations and met 4 really interesting people.

So far I met a lady in the wine business, who has a Summer home on the beach in a small town near Marseilles. She invited me to visit her town and to mention her name.

We met an older couple who were retired professionals. He had been a professor of architecture in France and in North Africa and spoke Arabic. At the end we found out their families were originally from Spain and we spoke Spanish with them.

Today we met an 87 year old lady named Jennine, (see picture on left) with all her marvels who had been an office manager for a company and had traveled all over the world including Cuba. She was a kick and we had a lot fun talking to her. She talked to us for close to an hour. We are hoping to meet up with her again.

Jeffrey is now a convert to my strategy of finding conversation partners and we roam the streets evaluating the old people's loneliness. Today, we got fooled by an old lady... it turned out she had a cell phone and was happily chatting away. Too bad!

African Children Choir experience

2010-05-09T19:38:00.000+02:00

The market saga continues. Saturday market was a different kettle of fish. It was exciting and very rich and varied. Still expensive but full of delicious stuff. The sausage "heart attack to go" we purchased was scrumptious.
....................................................

Sunday we went to the International Church and were pleasantly surprised to find the whole service taken by the African Children Choir. There were 18 children between 7 and 10, all cute and full of life.
I think a group from this organization appeared on national TV with Josh Groban.
They were energetic and well choreographed. A real treat!

The weather was much better today and we were able to stroll around Cours Mirabeau and enjoy the antique and flea market stalls.

Jeff finally made it to his beloved market.

2010-05-08T00:05:00.001+02:00

All the conditions were finally right for the trip to the market. Aren't you in suspense of how this exciting tale ends? Well, we got to the market and it looked great- but really not that much better than the corner market near our flat. But we are full of the Gaelic spirit, with our baguette under our arm, we skipped to start the shopping....

There are no bargains here folks. We bought fresh fish highly recommended by an Irish man- also admiring the wonders of the market. We were going to load up. Regroup!!! The average price of the fish was $30. a kilo. We gulped and bought half a kilo, took it home and either my culinary skills killed the flavor or it is not that much better than fresh fish from home. We pretended it was.

Don't tell Jeff this, but I am hoping to do the bulk of the shopping around the flat. Less to carry and not great difference to an untrained palate.

We went around town again today and here are a couple of

pictures from our outing. The one with the fountain is one of the most recognizable sites for Aix. The other one, where the building is shaped like books is a library.

We met a lady from Spain who spoke French well and we had a chance to practice our conversational French. We are desperate for chances to speak. Today, we had a visit from trio of Jehovah's Witness. Our landlord advised us not to answer the buzzer for solicitors but in retrospect, we think we should have talked to the religious fanatics and practice our French. Live and learn. We are looking forward to the next visit. They won't know what hit them. They talking about God and the Scriptures and we telling them about our day. C'est tout.

Adjusting to the rain (not)

2010-05-05T14:38:00.000+02:00

Notice I am wearing the same thing. Well, we expected warmer weather. We are getting tons of rain, not heavy but a lot.

Jeff is frustrated since he has it in his mind we have to go to the market and purchase our food a la French. So far, we have either gotten going too late (it closes at noon) or we can't go because of the rain and we give up before our destination and get some coffee instead.

In the picture, Niko and I are relaxing in a coffee shop/bookstore ("Book and Bar") that caters to an international clientele and has announcements for conversation partners. We gotten some names but haven't called them as of yet.

Another escape strategy is food. There is is a nice restaurant next to our apartment and we decided to try it out. I had the cold salad buffet ($14) plus soda ($5.00) - wine is $3. Niko was right at our feet and no one thought it odd. Here is a picture of Jeff checking the menu of the day.

The food in general is delicious and we have been walking a lot. We also have stairs in our apartment (34 steps according to my "Rain-man"). So every time Niko has to relieve himself, we get exercise. In that interesting note, I say, au revoir.

Niko, the icebreaker!

2010-05-03T23:43:00.001+02:00

Niko, shown here with his raincoat, ready for the drizzling rain of Provence, has been a great hit with the French.

Practically all the conversations we had in French have been initiated by Niko. He has proven to be worth his weight in gold- Maybe I shouldn't have put him on a diet before I left. By the way, he almost made weight to travel in the airplane cabin (8 kilos).

Today, we bought our temporary cell phones, all in French. People here have been extremely gracious and understanding. We haven't encountered the famous French rudeness. It must be my charming smile- or..... Niko.

We visited by bus, the largest store we have ever seen. It is called Carrefour. It is Walmart type of store with Macy's prices. Everything is expensive here.

We arrived!

2010-05-02T19:56:00.000+02:00

Yes, we made it.

Niko did super in the 16 hour ride in his special cage. I literally bribed my way into getting him great care. A wink from the luggage handler (and dog handler) after I slipped him a 20 re-assured me Niko was going to be well taken care off. A box of chocolates for the captain and the crew members with note and pictures of Niko as a puppy got me an update on how he was doing in his cage.

I also had notes of thanks in every language I could think of glued to his cage for anyone who handled him. I got words of re-assurance from the second leg crew. When we picked him up, he was well rested , well fed and hydrated. He showed no signs of anxiety and seemed great.

After working on Niko's papers for 3 months, when we arrived no one checked them!!!

Well enough of my number one guy. My other one, did well too. He has been studying French a lot. He is more advanced than I am and has gotten compliments on his French already. My sign language and smile has gotten me all I need.

Saturday was the day of the worker and the French take their time off very seriously, so nothing was open apart from restaurants.

The first night we ate in a Japanese restaurant (Niko also) . We didn't know what we were buying but it turned out delicious and lots of courses. The baguettes in the corner are wonderful.

We are in the middle of the old town and we can walk to everything. A block away is the main street and today, Sunday there were street artisans and artists of all kinds.

Dogs are everywhere and Niko has been accepted in all places. The only exception is the grocery store but even there, he is fine if I carry him in my arms or in a bag. What a country!

Jeffrey is silent

2010-04-16T03:58:00.000+02:00

Jeffrey is off to his retreat in Palo Alto, California and it's a SILENT retreat. The family is most amused at this development. Jeff' silent as off no talking?! Not even when he is by himself. A little pay back for me for the many nights I wanted to read my book and I had to engage in a conversation about the meaning of life, religion or politics.

Getting ready to visit France for 15 weeks

2010-04-06T04:03:00.000+02:00

23 days countdown to our flight on April 29th

My husband has been awarded a grant to finance his sabbatical and we have chosen to spend the 15 weeks in Aix en Provence. This is a trip of a lifetime and we are so excited. I am hoping to learn French and to paint the beautiful scenery when we are not eating, drinking or relaxing. We have been preparing for the trip for quite a while but we had a few setbacks. First we found out by accident almost, we needed a visa.

Last week we got the long term visa for France needed to stay over 3 months in France. We were told it could take up to 2 months and we had less than a month and half. Needless to say, we are happy we were able to get all the forms in on time and shortened the process by more than a month. The people at the French consulate in Miami were very nice. This is a very good start to our adventure with the French people.

I have been ill since December with upper respiratory issues. I think they are caused by allergies. The bottom line is that my plans to learn French and get ready for the trip have been put on hold. Now I only have 3 weeks and I am behind....

One of my biggest challenges has been how to get my adorable dog Niko into the country. So far I have invested tons of time learning about the multiple health requirements and the confusing airlines rules. I now know a ton about different airlines regulations for transporting animals.
My vet is rather timid and is making me super nervous that he is not going to sign the health certificate. I have had 2 appointments with him, printed information from the internet and given him the information I got from the US department of Agriculture and he has not made me feel confident that he will do what is necessary to get him certified.

We are taking this very seriously, -we even took Niko to the airport for a dry run and discovered he is one kilo too many to fly in the cabin. I tried putting him on a diet but I gave up since he could gain weight in France and then I would be in a pickle. I ordered his cage from the internet and I have been getting him used to sleeping there. So far so good. The pieces of steak I put in the back of the cage seems to have done the trick. I glued a sign in different languages urging the workers who will handle his cage to be gentle with him. Several people have advised me not to take him but I can't imaging spending 15 weeks away from my little friend. I do hope I am doing the right thing for his sake.