I looked at Friday’s weather.  It was 100% chance of rain.  I considered cancelling my car reservation.  Since I rarely regret saying “yes”,   I stuck with my plan.  I had a few French field trips still on my wish list so with a car, I knew I could explore.   We are traveling the next two weekends and then it will be December 21st.  That day, I will not only be forty-five years old, but I will be on an airplane saying “au revoir” to France.  So Friday, I decided to go to Les Baux-de-Provence.

A few weeks ago when we ran into the green vests on the way home from Orange,  we were quite closet to Les Baux.   As Brewster mentioned in his blog post, he was ready to go home that day so  my request to stop in the hilltop town was denied.

I figured I’d go by myself another day.  Since I knew it was going to rain on Friday,  I found  an 11am yoga class in Saint-Rémy which 15 minutes from Les Baux.

My mom enjoys going to new churches when she travels.  I like yoga studios. A few minutes before 11am,  I pulled into a cozy old boutique hotel called Mas de L’Amarine where the class was taught.    Immediately, I knew my day away from Aix was already worth it.   I walked through the drizzling rain, past a long garden table, right into the cozy reception area.  “Bonjour?” I said.  Please-have-yoga, please-have-yoga I silently hoped.

A darling Frenchie wearing an apron greeted me in the kitchen near the yoga space.  She confirmed that yes, there was a yoga class.   And I was in luck because the teacher was from Aspen, Colorado.

A few minutes later, my teacher walked through the door smiling.  “Hello!” I smiled back.  We introduced ourselves and  hugged – I am such a hugger.  Her name was Sabrina Sadeghi Millecamps.

I told Sabrina how I arrived to her studio and what I was doing in France.  She shared with me that she snowboarded for the US team 20 years ago, married a French man, was raising an 8 year old girl and taught yoga.  She laughed.   Her students knew that she ran on Provence time so no one arrived for awhile.  Ten minutes later the room was full.

Sabrina was a talented teacher.  She taught her slow flow class flawlessly in English and French.  I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed practicing yoga in English.  The biggest difference was that I could close my eyes and focus on my breath.  In my other French yoga classes, I constantly look at other yoginis near me to see what asana the teacher just cued.

I walked out of  Sabrina’s class to the smell of fresh food. I decided to stay for lunch and ordered a curry cauliflower en papillote with fresh mushrooms, herbs, topped with a little local cheese.  I ate slowly at the counter, watching the rain outside.  It was a serene meal.

After lunch, I drove towards Les Baux.    A few minutes down the road, I passed a Roman arch in a large park. I quickly realized this was Les Antiques de Glanum, one of the oldest and best preserved mausoleums in Europe.  When we were in Saint-Rémy in September with my sister Mara, we didn’t make it to this historical marker. On Friday, not surprisingly,  there was no one there.  I felt so privileged to be there alone.

After a few minutes there, I drove up the mountain to Les Baux.  I skipped the castle, worried that it may be outside and it was still raining.  Instead I went to an art show at the Carrières de Lumières.   Picasso paintings were projected on the 50 foot cave walls.   The show was synchronized lights and music.  It reminded me of our Palais des Papes show in Avignon.  I enjoyed the solace of the experience and the massive caves.

I left Les Baux in plenty of time to pick up Sadie at school in Aix at 4:30.  I asked her if she wanted to go to a modern art museum with Brewster after school.  She gave Brewster the choice and I was delighted when he said yes. I had been to this Vasarely museum a few weeks ago.   I knew the kids would love it.  Since I had a car and it was in Aix-en-Provence, Friday’s visit was easy.

Victor Vasarely,  a 20th century artist is the grandfather of optic art.   The museum building is a hexagon filled with  his incredible artwork. For almost an hour, Sadie Brewster and I marveled over the fact that the pieces were indeed flat but so many of them had illusions making us think the lines were curved or the art was 3D.  Brewster appreciated the geometry and Sadie loved the colors.  I enjoyed their reaction to the art and especially appreciated that they said “yes” to go see it at all.

We found parking easily in our neighborhood after the museum.   Sadie and I walked to town to pick up sushi and we were surprised to see the streets filled with lights.  The holidays have arrived in Aix!

Saturday, I planned a trip to Sainte-Victoire.   Paul Cézanne painted this mountain nearly 80 different times. We occasionally see the mountain on our way to school and when Matt was here in September we briefly drove near it.   I wanted more.  I found a two hour drive which worked well because we had our rental car all day.

We woke up to thick fog so there was no hurry to leave early.  By 12noon, the sky was blue the sun was out.   We hiked, photographed and drove on Sainte-Victoire all afternoon.  I love, love, love Brewster’s affinity for photography.    Any opportunity to watch him photograph is a pleasure.    His talent is worth checking out insta: brew_photography.

We stopped for lunch in a deserted hill-side town, Vauvenargues. It was late and the kids were “hangry”.  While we waited for our food,  I found Harry Potter trivia on my phone which Sadie rocked.  Brewster had his revenge with world geography trivia.  Engagement is essential when waiting for a meal with kids.

We were back in Aix late afternoon, and I dropped the kids off at home and returned the car.   By 5pm we were snuggled up watching the 7th Harry Potter movie.    We went to bed early because Brewster had his last basketball game at 9am.  It was in Aix-en-Provence so we could walk, but we had to leave by 7:30am.

Announcement:  Brewster’s team won their game!   Brewster scored nearly twenty points.  It was a great last game.   We walked home via the Musée du Vieil Aix.   The first Sunday of the month some of the museums in France are free and I am a sucker for free.  I hadn’t been to this museum and I was happy it was free because it was underwhelming.  We were only there for about 15 minutes.  I asked the kids if they wanted to go to another one and Sadie said “two museums a weekend is plenty.  Thank you.”  She was ready to chill at home.

Around 2pm we were back on the couch with popcorn and blankets watching the final Harry Potter movie.  I was blown away.  JK Rowling is a genius!  Sadie kept saying “I freakin’ love these movies.”  She is officially obsessed with Harry Potter and counting down the days to our Harry Potter studio tour in London.  T-minus one week.

I feel so grateful for the opportunity to be in France with Sadie and Brewster and have Matt’s unconditional and financial support.  We all miss him.  Soon we will be reunited.  In the mean time, we continue to to squeeze it in and keep saying “yes.”

 

 

 

Portugal is cool.  Especially because I  like tile, urban art, beaches, big waves, funiculars, coffee, and inexpensive adventure!

Months ago, my dear friend Steph Johnes and I realized that we’d be in Europe at the same time.  For the past six years, Steph has been creating a documentary film about a surfer, Maya Gabeiro who lives in Nazaré in the winter.  Maya holds the world record for the largest wave surfed by a female – 67 feet!  Nazaré is located an hour and a half north of Lisbon.  Steph said last year, “Come to Portugal for Thanksgiving.” I agreed without hesitation.

Steph and I share a wonderful friend, Elie McLaren. We affectionately call her GrandMcMummy.  Elie and Steph’s mom are forever best friends and Elie lived in Park City for years.  Steph introduced me to Elie when I was pregnant with Brewster in 2004.  We bonded instantly and Elie has been our surrogate grandmother ever since.  She hosted my kids for overnights and playdates since they were newborns. 

When Elie heard that Steph and I were meeting in Portugal in November, she hopped on our travel train.  She planned to meet her son, Brooks and his Brazilian wife, Ana Paula in Lisbon.  Ana Paula’s sister lives in Lisbon and so it was a prefect excuse to all rendezvous in Southern Europe.

Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is all about?  Being with family or friends.  I loved our holiday plan.  Portugal is Europe on sale.  I heard once that it is Spain’s Mexico.  True that!  Our flights, accommodations and meals were  30% less than France.

Steph recommended visiting Porto first.  We flew directly there on Tuesday night from Marseille.   I rented a two bedroom airbnb in the heart of the city so we could walk everywhere.   Our first stop in Porto on Wednesday morning was the Lello Bookstore, one of the oldest and most beautiful bookstores in Europe.   This place inspired JK Rowling’s Hogwart’s library.  We bought a ticket next door at the café and we knew we were in Harry Potterland when we saw a cart with Harry Potter props.  Sadie was psyched!

The book store lived up to its reputation.  It was a two story historic building lined with wooden bookshelves.  A grand staircase filled the middle of the store and a large stainless window covered the ceiling on the second floor.

I imagined JK Rowling sitting at a small table upstairs writing away in the ’90s.  I have always loved book stores and this was no exception. I was compelled to buy a couple of books: a collection of short stories by Phillip Roth and a Lonely Planet guide to the Galapagos to prepare for our Fuller Family Christmas trip.

The rest of our day in Porto was very easy and fun.  We loved exploring the city and it was small enough that we didn’t follow a map.  We walked through plazas, in churches and down narrow stairs.  What struck me about Porto was the old tile next to urban art.  Some of the art was certainly graffiti, but much of it was beautiful murals.

Down by the Duora River was Igreja de São Francisco a church filled with gold leaf wood carvings.  There was so much gold!  Portugal’s dominance peaked in the Age of Discovery in the 15th and 16th century and we could tell by the cathedral decadence.   The kids only tolerate churches for so long, so soon we stopped for a snack.  We found a little cafe off the river boulevard which proved a good idea because it started pouring!  Tucked under an awning, we ordered a hot chocolate and waited for the storm to pass before continuing our afternoon exploration.

After lunch we found a funicular.  We hopped in and headed up the mountain not knowing where it stopped.  It was so fun to be in a small city and just go wherever, knowing that we likely would not be lost.  Fortunately, the  trolley stopped near the São Bento train station which was on my short list to visit. The tile inside was stunning.

We left the station and noticed we were right back at our airbnb. The kids were ready for some downtime so we went inside and relaxed. A couple hours later, Brewster and I left to scope out another neighborhood.  We browsed a few hipster boutiques.  Brewster loves shopping and is quite a fashion aficionado which I am just now figuring out.

Later that evening, the three of us dressed up for dinner and walked up the hill to Flow, a treasure of a restaurant.  Brewster tried some new food including truffle infused butter, tiger shrimp and ceviche. Sadie stuck to her delicious steak, but the highlight was dessert!  We shared the yummiest Portuguese cheesecake topped with peanut salted caramel.   I inquired about buying a pie to bring with me to Nazaré for Thanksgiving  the next day.  Brewster rolled his eyes and reminded me that we were traveling on a bus.  Right. 

Thanksgiving morning we woke up to rain.   Leaving Porto was not hard.  Although an Uber to the bus station was the easiest option, I couldn’t resist a 1euro20 metro ticket. The metro was quick and smooth. We arrived twenty minutes early for our bus to Nazaré.  We stopped once in Coimbra and I realized as we boarded that we only had five minutes to switch buses.  Brewster asked me why I booked such a short layover.  “I’m pretty sure that the ticket was issued this way” I responded.  But the fear of missing our bus to Nazaré remained inside me the entire ride to Coimbra.  It didn’t help that we left Porto nine minutes late.  However, the Coimbra bus station was not big, so we fortunately made our bus to Nazaré.  I texted Steph that we’d be on time and I finally was able to relax and enjoy the Portuguese country side on the ride to Nazaré.

Matt and I visited Nazaré in 2004 and the white town and forever sandy beach has not changed. But what is new is the surf scene.  Garrett McNamara, a big wave surfer is credited with bringing big wave surfing to Nazaré.  In 2011, after a few years of scoping out the enormous swell, Garrett broke the world record for the largest wave surfed.  Surfers from all over the world have now made Nazaré home for part of year.  Steph is friends with most of them!

We celebrated Thanksgiving at a farm just outside of town. Steph’s friend Lara, a Nazaré native hosted about twenty-five of us.  It was a motley crew.  World class surfers included Maya and her friend Sebastian Stedtner, Garrett, Toby, Raphael and a bunch of their friends.  Also at dinner was an artist from Australia, a videographer from San Diego,  Lara’s boyfriend Nuno who is the talented big wave lifeguard in town, GrandMcMummy, Brooks, Ana Paula, their daughter Luisa, Ana Paula’s cousin and her girlfriend and the Hutchinsons.

Everyone was so interesting.  Fascinated by their scene, I found myself asking the surfers very obvious questions.  Brewster was dying.  When I asked one of them where they were from, they’d answer, “Originally from Chile/Germany/Brazil but I live in the world.”  These were some beautiful brave athletes!

Friday was both sunny and chilly.  Steph and I went for a beautiful run on the beach.  We bumped into GrandMcMummy and Brooks on our way which and gave them a hug before they left to return to Lisbon.

Steph and I treated the kids to a long Portuguese lunch with a Kauai-coast-like view.  I thought about how vacant the Nazaré shore is compared to Hawaii or California.  It is a stunning part of our Earth and very few have developed here.

There are stairs down to Nazaré town from Steph’s house.  We headed down after lunch and passed a few locals bringing up their groceries.  I saw a couple of ladies in black which likely meant they were widows. I read Nazaré widows wear black.  They may have lost their fisherman husbands in the the same surf that makes Steph’s surf friends famous.

The four of us chilled on Friday night and left for Lisbon on Saturday morning.  Before leaving town, we visited the Big Wave Surfing museum in Nazaré.  It was so cool to see photos and surf boards of our Thanksgiving friends  on display.

Our first stop in Lisbon was the Belém Tower.  We were happy that Steph drove because it started to rain.  After Belém, we enjoyed the Time Out Market, a glamorous five star food  court.

After the market, we started to walk to GrandMcMummy’s airbnb but it was pouring.   We hopped on a funicular and then Ubered the rest of the way.

We spent that night drinking Portuguese wine and snacking with the McLaren crew.  I met Ana Paula’s sister, Ana Claudia. It’s typical in Brazil to have sisters with the same first name.  So when they are together, they go by Paula and Claudia but in their daily lives  in Los Angeles and Lisbon they both are called Ana. 

Sadie spent Saturday night with GrandMcMummy and Brewster, Steph and I walked back to our Bed & Breakfast.   It had stopped raining.  I loved the streets of Lisbon.  Like Porto, buildings were decorated with tile or urban art. Some art was more attractive than other art.  The art fills the city with color.   Steph and I speculated how long it will take for Lisbon to clean up.  All over, there are refurbished buildings right next to tear-downs.  Cafes and boutiques fill  Lisbon catering to the younger population. I want to return and further explore.

Sunday morning, Steph and I walked to a coffee shop and enjoyed a quiet Sunday scene.  We met Brewster for breakfast at our Inn and the three of us walked to pick up Sadie at GrandMcMum’s.  We took our time walking back to the car and then it was time to head to the airport.  Our flight back to Marseille was only two and a half hours making it back to our apartment in time for Sunday night pizza.

Obriagoda Steph!   You created quite the memorable Thanksgiving!  We loved it.  And we love you.   And GrandMcMum, obriagoda for saying “yes” The only thing that could have made it even better was Matty.

November in Provence is not as sunny as September nor October.  It has felt like London the past week.  Everyday is a different shade of grey.  I heard that this is an “unusually” wet November here in Aix-en-Provence.  No big deal, however, my second five-euro-market-umbrella broke last week when the wind whipped it inside out like the scene in Mary Poppins.  Maybe I need a 10euro umbrella.

The laundry is tricky to knock out.  Washing is not a problem; it’s the drying that is unpredictable.  We have a clothes line rather than a dryer.  Without the sun, the clothes could be damp all day.  Classically, our clothes will almost be dry and then it starts to rain and we are back to square one.  I use those situations as meditative moments.  The clothes will dry.   They always do.   And if not, the laundry mat is across the street.   I can bring my sopping clothes over in a garbage bag.  This is a first world problem.

Despite the weather, what is nice about November in Provence is the lack of tourists.  This town feels more local.  The French fill the streets, cafes and markets.  I visited to our local art museum Friday to see an exceptional Marc Chagall exhibit and there was no line to buy a ticket.   Crowds did not surround the art.  In the book shop, I was alone.

Saturday, we chilled at home.  In preparation for our trip to London next month, I committed to watch all eight of the Harry Potter films with the kids.  We watched the third movie on Saturday. They both are quite HP-aficionados.  The films give us a lot to talk about.  Sadie says to me all the time, “Mom.  Do you have ANY questions about ANY of the Harry Potter movies?  The characters?  The plot? If there is anything you don’t understand, just let me know.”   She is re-reading the series with laser focus.  Her well of love for Harry Potter is deep.

Sunday, Brewster’s basketball game was a half hour out of town giving me an excuse to rent a car. I looked at the map to see where we could go on a field trip after the game. Camargue is a wetlands where white horses, flamingos and black bulls are wild and was only forty minutes away from the game.  After a two hour grueling game, we headed there.  I researched a scenic loop which did not disappoint.  It was serene, wild and sprinkled with animals. 

“Look!  There’s a white horse!” I’d say, pointing out the obvious. (such a mom-move)

“We know Mom.  We see it.” they’d say with a groaning response.

No one else was on the road.  To the distaste of my rule-following-children, I stopped the car in the middle of the road to take photos.  Brewster DJed and they asked me questions about what my life was like before they were born.  It was Hutchinson story-time in the Camargue.  We were home to our apartment by 4pm.

Brewster is taking finals this week which is both a novelty and a stress.  He studies hard.  Despite the tough material,  he does not complain.  Sadie has been a little under the weather with a low fever and came home early from school. We are hoping that she is feeling better by next week when we go to visit our friend Steph in Portugal.  Is Thanksgiving really next week?  Wowzah!

In other news, I cut my hair.   I had a chance to show it off to my three friends that I met in French-conversation class.  We call ourselves “Aix Amies”.  We lunched at a Moroccan restaurant in our old town which was such a treat.  Erica is like me: living in Aix with her two kids without her husband on a “Grand Adventure”.  They are from Boulder, Colorado.  Alisa is half Thai-half American,  married to a French man, and has a daughter a year younger than Sadie. They moved to Aix from London this summer.  Dawn is from Liverpool but thinks of herself as Italian because she moved here from Venice this summer with her two kids and husband.    I adore these interesting, sincere, adventurous and worldly women.

It’s truly a gift to be in here in Provence whether the sun shines or not.

 

There are so many reasons we love living in France. However, the kids and I agree, the best thing about living here has to be that there is no school Wednesdays!   A four day school week is such a gift.  Tuesdays feel like Fridays.  Wednesday is a completely free day.  TGIT and TGIF are a thing here in our house in Aix-en-Provence.

It is common that French primary schools do not have school on Wednesdays.  We knew that before we arrived.   Usually collège  (which is Brewster’s school) has a half day.  However, our school, Val Saint André is so small that the older kids have Wednesdays off as well.  We didn’t know that until August.   Sadie was a little disappointed not to have me to herself on Wednesdays, but Brewster was psyched! It was a game-changer.

Their school days are longer on Mondays/Tuesdays and Thursdays/Fridays than they are in Park City.  We leave our house together at 7:20am.  Brewster starts school at 8am and Sadie begins at 8:30.  We take the bus or walk if the bus doesn’t come….we never know!  Sadie and I say goodbye to Brewster a few minutes before 8am and then walk across the street to the boulangerie. I order an espresso and Sadie eats her breakfast croissant.  We talk.  Sometimes we work on her 5th grade math from Trailside, sometimes we practice my French, and sometimes we read.  Regardless, it is a treat to have that 1:1 time together.  We leave the coffee shop at 8:18 to be at school on time.  Being on time is our new thing!

Back when school started, I ordered a café au lait, but I quickly realized that it was an expensive habit.  So, I started acting French, and ordered a simple 1euro espresso.  It’s a little more sustainable.

The day ends for Sadie at 4:30.  Brewster’s schedule varies but he often is home about 5:30pm.  We all agree, four longer days of school is worth a break in the middle of the week.

In August, we noticed that there were a handful of burger restaurants in Aix-en-Provence ranging from artisanal burgers to Five Guys.

We started a tradition called “Burger Day”.  Wednesday mornings the kids sleep in. Around noon we head into town with our “Burger notebook”. We go to a new burger place each week and rate the atmosphere, service, presentation, burgers and of course the fries.  We include the cost and evaluate the value of our lunch.  Sadie orders the same thing every week: bacon burger sans fromage or sauce.  She figured out that she loves pickles.  Who knew?  Brewster, being the most adventuresome, usually orders a bacon cheeseburger and sauce. I sometimes try the veggie burger or a cheeseburger.   We love the variety of the different spots and the challenge to find a new one each week.

In December, we decided for our last three burger days we will go back  our top three restaurants.  We each will pick our favorite.  It’s a source of constant conversation….where do you think we’ll return?   What’s your favorite?

Burger Day is a simple pleasure which brings me so much joy.

 

We stopped for one last gelato on our way to the Turino train station.

 

Licking our cones, we chatted about the velvet texture and supreme taste of the icy-cream.  We were happy to have one last Italian scoop before we returned to France.  We had no idea what our next thirty minutes were about to entail.

Our train back to Aix-en-Provence via Lyon left Turino at 4:11pm.  Across the street from the train station Matt said, “Babe, did you check the time of the train today?” 

“Sure did.  Our train leaves at 14:11.”

Brewster and Sadie audibly chimed in.  “14:11!  Mom!  That’s 2:11 NOT 4:11.  Are we leaving at 14hr or 16h?”

A four letter word creeped into my head.  Stupid Euro military time.   My ice cream dripped as I my heart pounded.  My iPhone battery has been weak since arriving in Europe and it only works when connected to a charger.  I had no way to instantly verify what time our train left Turino. 

We left our luggage at the train station that morning, so we had to retrieve our bags before we verifying our the departure. 

It was 3:50pm.  We had 21 minutes to figure it out.

In every European rail station, travelers are greeted at the entrance with arrival, departure and platform information.  All four of us scanned the board and did not see a 4:11pm train, nor any trains to France.  We briskly walked to the baggage service desk to pick up our bags and I immediately pulled out our train tickets.  The train left at 16h11.  Phew.

I had the time right but, wait.  Shit.  The train departed from Turino Porta Susa and we were at Turino Porta Nuova.  It was 4:00.

We ran out of the station pulling our roller bags.  “Metro!” Matty barked.  “No wait, Cab!  We need a cab!” Outside, I ran up to a car. “Taxi!  Can you drive us to Porta Susa in 10 minutes? Our train is leaving!”   We tossed our luggage in the trunk and piled in.   

Desperate.  I don’t know if our taxi driver spoke English.  He peeled out of the station making me feel like he understood our urgent situation.  “We’ll make it.” I quietly said to Sadie.  She whimpered. Brewster stared out the window.  I learned later that Matty was anticipating renting a car and wondering how long it’d take to drive to Aix. 

On our way to the station, Matt and Brewster saw a clock on a pharmacy illuminating the incorrect time of 4:09.  Really it was 4:05pm but that clock didn’t help their psyche.  The cab pulled into the station.  I paid the driver and we ran. 

“Platform 3!” one of us belted out.  We sprinted and boarded the train.  We had one minute to spare.

Oh, the feeling of making a train!  It’s almost as wonderful as a day in Florence.

Due to the tempest storm in Corsica, rather than 48 hours in Florence, we were down to 24.  Turns out, 24 hours was an ample amount of time to explore although I could, and hopefully will, go back to Florence for days.  The fashion, art, food and architecture make it one of the greatest cities in the world. 

Matty and I started the day with a coffee and a walk around the Duomo and returned to our apartment to rally the kids.  We first visited the  Accademia Gallery, home of Michelangelo’s David.  I saw The David thirty (!) years ago on my Alternatives trip, my freshman at the American School in London.  I remember the work as breathtaking.  Nothing hs changed.  My family’s reaction as we rounded the corner in the Gallery was the same as mine was all those years ago.  The David took our breath away.  His stance on the  pedestal under a domed ceiling and sky light was holy.  As Matt to me said later that night, “The David is a Stunner.”  Indeed, a stunner.    Brewster was speechless.  Sadie, blown away.  The details of Michelangelo’s sculpture: his hand, his fingers, his eye, his height….My eyes filled with tears.

We nailed it.  It was a fantastic first stop.  From there, we walked down a pedestrian street to the Duomo and then to the San Lorenzo Markets.  Every stall and shop sold leather.  Leather wallets, leather shoes, leather purses, leather jackets, and so on. Of course the vendors also sold cashmere scarves and shawls, Italian linens and tchotchkes, but we were struck by the sameness of the products at each stall.

Brewster had his eye on a belt and we found a sweet Italian woman who was happy to sell us not just one belt, but three.   I asked our Italian friend for her best price on Matt’s belt, instead of responding, she looked at Matt’s waist and started cutting the belt.   Locked and loaded before we agreed to buy it. We have a new family saying:  “When you close a deal is you ‘Cut the belt.’” Fortunately, the belts were reasonably priced and I had a chance to barter and the woman who was lovely so we all left smiling. 

From the markets, we crossed the Arno River and lunched at Tamerò Oastabar, a hipster cafe in the  Piazza Santo Spirito.  It used to be an old garage and now Italian women make pasta in the window and cafe tables are tucked away in the back.  In the spirit of Halloween, I ordered a pumpkin soup dotted with ginger and yogurt.  Yum!  The kids both ate fresh pesto pasta and Matt ordered a carbonara.   Each meal came with a beverage and coffee and for only 10 euro.  It must be the best deal in Florence.

We needed lunch to fuel us up to the Piazzale Michelangelo.  The view from the top of the hill gave us ample photo opportunities. 

It started to drizzle so we hiked down towards The Ponte Vecchio bridge.  The 12th century bridge is the only one in the city to survive World War II.   We couldn’t resist gelato from what we named the city’s largest and most expensive spot (7euro50 each!)  Matt eavesdropped on an English tour and learned that back in the day, the bridge was lined with fish and food vendors.  The King didn’t appreciate the smell as he walked to church everyday so he ordered the food stalls to be replaced with gold vendors.  To this day, all the shops on the bridge sell jewels and gold which makes for a super fancy bridge.

On the other side of the river, we walked past every designer store we could think of on our way back to our Airbnb:  Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Balenciaga, Chanel, Burberry, etc.   We had as much fun gawking at the clientele inside as we did looking at the window displays.

After walking quite a way, I suspected that we were not headed in the right direction.  When we hit the river again after thirty minutes, my hunch was confirmed.  We were lost. We self-corrected and walked back toward the Duomo and back to our apartment. The bright side of that situation was that our walk took us through neighborhoods we would have otherwise skipped.

The kids were exhausted when we arrived home.  They decided that they were happy ordering sushi take-out from next door giving Matt and me an opportunity to dinner-date.  I sought out “romantic” restaurants on-line and was underwhelmed with my search results.  The key words that lead us to our extraordinary meal later that night were “Hidden Gem.”

I read about a little spot tucked behind the Duomo.   Around 6pm, I headed out on a solo mission to see if I could find it, which I did. The front door was locked, but next to it, there was an garage-like door that was partially opened.  I ducked under and saw an employee setting up for the night.  I asked if there was a table for two available at 8pm.  In a very Italian manner, the guy said “You can have this table if you like.” Pointing to a small table by the door. 

“Of course” I said.  “See you at 8.  My name is Sara.  What is yours?” 

“Luca.”

We walked into Coquinarius, right at 8pm and Luca greeted us with the news he had a better table for us.  We deferred to him with our order and did not regret it.  Every bite was a scrumptious Italian delight.  We ate a mix of crustinis topped with fish, cheese, figs, and chicken liver (not my style);  fresh ravioli and tortellini; and porcini mushroom and cheese crumble.  When the order of mixed smoked fish arrived, I told Matt we needed to box that up and bring it home for breakfast.  Smoked fish on fresh bread with cream cheese and onion would be delicious.   I was right!

Luca told us he is from Sardinia.  We talked about Corsica.  He too loves the soul of the island but said the driving is sketchy!  He opened his restaurant in Florence with friends and named it Coquinarius which is the Latin word  for “kitchen.” Luca was passionate, kind and his chef was superb.  If you are ever in Florence, you must treat yourself to a meal at Coquinarius.

The next day we woke up to light rain. Our train to Turino wasn’t until 11:45am.  Once the drizzling slowed, I headed out into the soggy streets. I picked up a coffee and walked by myself to the Piazza della Signoria next to the Uffizi Gallery.  I had preordered tickets for the Uffizi for Monday but they were invalid by the time we arrived in Florence on Tuesday.  Next trip! After seeing the Piazza, I walked back to the Airbnb to pack up. With twenty minutes to go before our departure, I darted out to a local leather shop to buy a slate-grey bag.  Nothing fancy, but I couldn’t’ resist by a leather tote. 

We walked to the Florence train station and boarded our train to Turino. (Italians call it Turin.) I chose a layover in Turino only to split up up our train travel from Florence to Aix. The Italian trains are quite nice.  We flew through Tuscany, up through Milan and over to Turino traveling  almost 300 km/hour!   

We arrived to Turino around 3pm.  I must have chosen our three star hotel with cost and location in mind because it was not nice.   Our room had four single beds reminding me of Eastern Europe.  Matt joked: “Which would you rather: a dingy hotel or slow wifi?” He started laughing.  “We have both!”   The first three letters of HOTEL were not lit up on the sign outside, so we called it the EL. 

We spent the late afternoon wandering around a very cool car museum.  Turino is home to Fiat and Alpha-Romeo.  We felt the Italian pride at the museum.

  We ate Chinese food on our way back to the notel-hotel.  Bed time came early in our four bed chambre.  The streets outside our window were loud but a tasty breakfast was included in the hotel price.  In the end, I guess it was a wash. 

We needed an activity eat up some time before our train back to France.  The number one attraction in Turino is the Museo Egizio, an Egyptian Museum with over 2000 authentic Egyptian artifacts. The online descriptions recommended buying tickets in advance.  I didn’t see that tip until the morning and by that time tickets were sold out for the day.  After breakfast, I went for a walk and decided to swing by the museum to “grab” some tickets.   When I arrived, the queue wrapped around the block.  I texted the kids and Matt to pack my bag, check out and and meet me at the museum. I’d be waiting in line.

As the time passed, I thought, how long does it take to fly to Cairo from Turino?  Is it quicker than this line?  When Matt arrived, we took turns waiting and walking around the near by shops and plazas.  We ate focaccia sandwiches in line and finally after three hours of waiting, it was our turn to buy tickets. 

The good news is that the exhibits were worth the wait!  A fantastic audio tour was included with the ticket price so we learned all about ancient Egyptian culture.  We were amazed by the mummies, tombs and artifacts. 

We could have spent an entire day in the museum. Bu we only had an hour and a half there which forced us to skip the end of the audio tour and head to the station.

It was time to catch our train…..We made the train!  We made the train! I am still in awe that we made it.  We are all so happy to be on the train headed North.

We arrived home to our apartment  in Aix about midnight.  When we wake up, it will be Matty’s birthday.  We are so grateful to spend the day and weekend together before he leaves Monday. 

We had an incredible two weeks of travel.  The dirty laundry and slight exhaustion is the only complaint right now.   Overwhelmingly, I feel grateful.  Forever I will cherish these memories of the year we lived in France and traveled during the two week October break.  It was a fantastic trip!

 

The alarm went off yesterday morning at 6:45am and I checked my email to see if the ferry was still scheduled.  Delayed by an hour, I reset the alarm for 7:30 and snuck back in bed.   When we walked outside dragging our bags, we stepped over puddles.   The streets were wet but the sky was blue.  The sea looked a little rough, but I was happy that the storm had passed.  Our departure out of Bastia was gorgeous.  The four hour boat ride to Livorno was a little rocky, but not too bad.

The ferry was a couple hours delayed, but we hurried to the train station to go to Pisa.  We made it to the Leaning Tour of Pisa by sunset and to Florence by dinner.  It was a two-bus, two-train, and one boat day.  At one point Matt looked at me last night and said “We’re Eurorailing”.  I laughed.

Matt and I woke up early this morning an walked around our neighborhood with a coffee in hand.  Our Airbnb is right down the street from the Duomo.  We are in for a Halloween treat for today in Firenza!

Waiting an extra hour for a bus in Èze is nothing compared to what we are experiencing in Bastia, Corsica!  We are on lock-down in a seaport two star hotel as a Mediterranean tempest storm named Adrian passes over the island.   They are predicting winds over 150 km/hour.  We were frantically told by a woman on the street two hours ago to go inside.  They are shutting down the town. They call it Red Vigilance. All the stores are closed now and they want everyone off the roads.  It’s intense!  Matt is following it on twitter as we can’t see anything from our inside courtyard view but I can hear the winds.   I am hopeful that the storm will pass without much drama.

We’ve been on Corsica for three nights and until this morning, it has been lovely!  I adore this island.  We flew from Nice on Thursday morning and were surprised with the mountainous terrain and size of the island.  It’s big! After renting a car at the airport we went towards the mountains.  I was stunned with the beautiful peaks, rushing river and gorgeous topography.  The fresh mountain air was delicious!  Brewster had fun shooting photos and Sadie hopping from one river rock to the next.  I felt like I was home.

From there, we stopped for lunch in the old town of Corte and then drove two hours south to our rental home in Porto Vecchico.  A French friend of mine from Aix, named Claire, grew up vacationing in Corsica, and she recommended the town.  We rented a stone house on a hill with a distant view of the Mediterranean.  It was wonderful to have space for the kids to run around and a deck for Matt and me to chill.  The sun shined brightly during the day.   The days are short in late October so the stone house was chilly in the evening without heat. We bundled up and went to bed early.  One morning I woke up to the most beautiful sunrise!

Both Saturday and Sunday began with the boys watching the World Series.  It was really funny on Saturday because they started watching the game  on tape delay before the game was over.  It was an 18 inning, 7 hour game. At one point, the webcast paused, and when it refreshed Brewster saw that the game was tied in the 18th inning.  They decided them to watch the end of Game 3 live.  Surely, they were disappointed with a Red Sox loss, but happy they didn’t spend six hours watching! 

After the game, we drove to one of the two hundred beaches   The sand was white and beautiful.   The kids loved swimming. Sadie played in the same while Brewster, Matt and I  walked the beach.  We could have been in St.Barths!

After the beach we headed to an ancient castle town, Bonifacio, for lunch and exploration.

Matt dug deep into the rich island history and educated us all weekend long with the stories island invasion and flip-flopping ownership.  Currently, it is like St Barths, a French Collectivity.  The island is run by a municipal government but the citizens, currency and laws are French.  There is a strong Corsican culture and language which is heavily influenced by Italy.

We ate well all weekend.  One night, we dined in a cave.  The next day, pizza on a port.

Matt and I even snuck in a date at a five star restaurant and savored the delicious French food.   We woke up yesterday and drove North to Bastia.  Our intention was to return our rental car and sleep one night near the port and leave for Italy this morning.  Right as we were returning the car, I checked my email and saw that our ferry to Italy this morning was cancelled.  I wasn’t sure why  and felt very inconvenienced!  Until….we woke up this morning to a total down pour and thunder and lightening.  I was grateful we were not on a boat out at sea.   We spent the morning in a very small hotel room watching the Red Sox win the World Series (Woot Woot!  Sorry, Caroline) . We rebooked our ferry for tomorrow and found a hotel room for tonight.  We waited for the rain to slow down before heading to our car.    That is when we realized that we were in a big storm!  Our hotel was located on the quai and there was police tape along the shore.  The waves were crashing over the seawall on to the cars.  A wave drenched Sadie and Matt at the car.  We drove slowly around the block to our new hotel and have been here on and off ever since.

Fortunately, we have wifi, good books and a deck of cards.   I snuck into a grocery store for a few beers and snacks a couple of hours ago so we are safe and sound.  Whether we will be here another day or not, we shall see….the adventure continues! #rougevigilance

My friend Molly, a veteran world traveller, said to me before I left for France, “ Be prepared for the day your train doesn’t come.”  I think she meant with all the travel, expect some delay.  As  we waited in Èze for the 82 bus that would never come, I thought of Molly.   

Earlier that afternoon, we hopped off the train from Monaco in Èze on a whim.  My friend Steph loves Èze and she has good taste so we decided to check it out.  The train station, Èze-sur-mer is 1400 feet below the Village, so it was an easy decision to take a bus up the hill.  Even though the bus was 30 minutes late, our spirits remained high as we crawled up above the beautiful Rivera to the ancient town of Èze.

First order of business in Èze was to peek at the bus schedule.  5:50pm was the last bus to the train station, and it was 4:45 so we had an hour to explore the picturesque town.  The views from the village were stunning.  Overlooking the Rivera, the view reached from Monaco to Nice.   The village streets dipped through stone arches.   At every narrow turn there was another view and garden.  The town boutiques were hidden in caves and romantic restaurants lined the streets.          The town jewel, the exotic gardens were located at the top of the village.  Exquisite plants and sculptures scattered the hilltop.  I loved Èze and have it earmarked as a place to return.

At 5:40pm we were back at our bus stop.  5:50 came and went and soon the town bells struck six o’clock.  I was looking into an Uber at about 6:30pm when our 82 bus passed us going the other way, headed up the hill.  We figured it would make it’s final four stops and come back down the hill and pick us up.  We were wrong.  That same bus came down the hill but it wasn’t the 82 bus.  It was an 83. Same driver, but different number and destination sign.  Someone who had been waiting with us at the 82 bus stop starting running across the street.   We heard “This is the last bus down. It’s going to Nice” So we too sprinted to the bus and boarded.  For €1,50 we drove through another little village and down into Nice.  Eventually, our google maps made it apparent that we needed to get off the bus although we weren’t sure exactly where in Nice we were.  We hopped off and walked to a nearby sushi restaurant for dinner and a break.  After a delicious meal and some map planning, we boarded the local Nice tram and arrived at a stop near our apartment.  At 9:45pm, Sadie said as she walked up the stairs, “I didn’t expect when we left this morning that we would be back this late.”  She was right, but that was the beauty of being in the flow of the day.  We really had nowhere to go, and nowhere to be.

We arrived in Nice on Tuesday evening after a very easy TGV ride from Aix-en-Provence.

We traveled three hours southwest along the Rivera, and we peeked out the window as we passed through Cannes, St Tropez and other French towns that were new to me.  We arrived in Nice about 4pm and walked a short distance to our airbnb.  After spending an hour relaxing inside, we headed out down the busy pedestrian street of Nice.  Big stores and little boutiques lined the main street.  We walked past a gorgeous old church, Notre Dame down to the sea.  The sun was starting to set over the water and Nice was filled with energy.  Roller-skaters, couples, and families shared the coastal promenade.  We blended right in.

From the water, we walked into the oldest quarter of town: Vieux-Nice.  We found ourselves in another labyrinth of narrow ancient streets that reminded us of our travels in Avignon, Arles and even Aix-en-Provence.   Squares, restaurants and a lively nightlife scene filled the old town. We decided on a restaurant that served both local cuisine as well as noodles for the kids who didn’t feel like anything too foreign for dinner.  We enjoyed a long French meal and wandered home with an ice cream cone in hand.  So far, the Rivera was pretty great!

Both Wednesday and Thursday mornings  Brewster and Matt watched the Red Sox beat the Dodgers on MLB.com on tape delay from the night before.  Brewster couldn’t believe his good luck to be both on school holiday and with his dad to watch the Red Sox play in the World Series. Lounging around in the morning is a great way to embody vacation, so everyone was happy with our delayed start in the days.

On Wednesday, we left the apartment about noon and walked up to the Marc Chagall museum. We were happy to find out it was free!   After exploring his bright beautiful paintings, we walked back to the train station and took a train to Monaco,  the worlds second smallest nation in area (behind Vatican City).  Without a plan, we strolled around Monte Carlo.  It was a gorgeous day and we loved looking at all the yachts and opulent architecture. We couldn’t believe that there was  a helicopter on a yacht!

I felt like I was in Las Vegas, but then had to remind myself that Monte Carlo was real and Vegas was not.  Bizarre. The city is built on a hill and we saw a staircase going up or down on every block.  The city was  a maze of small narrow streets and beautiful apartment buildings with fancy cars parked in front.  Brewster was happy to see his fourth Lamborghini of his French trip. After a casual lunch in Monte Carlo, we walked back to the train station and boarded the train to Nice when we decided to stop in Èze.

Thursday, we packed up a beach bag and headed to the sea.  Villafranche-sur-mer is a sweet St Barth-esque town.  We even spotted a moke!

We all swam and relaxed under a hot October sun.  We walked around the town and stopped for a beverage on the quai.  Up the hill, we discovered the Volti Sculpture Museum filled with serene bronze statues of women, children and families. It was a beautiful place and felt like a treasure as we were the only people walking around.

The clouds were rolling in so we took the train back to Nice and had some down-time before heading back into the Old City of Nice.  Matt and I talked the kids into some Indian Food promising them that they’d enjoy at least the Naan bread. We were right.  It was delicious! We walked up the promenade under a full moon back to our apartment. We headed to bed as we had an early flight to Corsica the next day out of Nice.  I loved the Rivera.  I don’t know what it would be like in August, but October was a beautiful time to visit.  Even  our punny “Nice is Nice” jokes didn’t get too old.  Nice really is nice.

We boarded a train in the St. Charles station in Marseille in the dark and I panicked.  Was this the right train? It looked more like a local train that a TGV.  Moments before we left the station, I hopped out of my seat and asked a passenger, “Is this train going to Arles?”  She didn’t know.  Her friend thought so.  Brewster, always so calm and level-headed, pulled up a google map. “Mom, it’s cool. We’re on the right train. Arles is in the direction of Perpignan, the last stop of this train.”

My adrenaline dissipated and I relaxed.  Sadie dealt a hand of cards and we played “President” for the entire 45 minute train ride to Arles. I realized this card game is the same as a drinking game I played in college called “Asshole”.  The only difference is there are no sips of keg beer between tricks and the A-hole in President is called “Shmole”.  Our family loves to play cards and it is a integral part of our travel.

The three of us walked into the old town of Arles from station easily arriving at our hotel a little after 8pm.  Our hotel was located in Forum Square which used to be the political and religious center of Roman Arles.  There are bistros lining the square making it quite the scene especially on a Friday night.  We chose a spot to have dinner and enjoyed the perfect evening autumn temperature.  Two bummers of that night was that everyone around us smoked.  I notice how culturally acceptable it is to smoke in France, but it is not ideal, especially when dining.  Secondly, Sadie was catching a cold and cough.  These two factors forced us to wrap up our dinner quickly and head back to our hotel room across the square.   The weekends are a treat for Sadie as we share a bed.  Brewster doesn’t mind that tradition either especially when there are just two double beds.

The nicest part of Arles is all the sites are compact and accessible by foot.  We woke up on Saturday morning and after our croissant and coffee, we headed out to explore.  Our first stop was the Saturday market.  It was a beautiful array of colors and people! I loved the food and flowers.  The streets were packed with families and people of all ages shopping for the week. I just learned this new phrase: C’est typiquement français (it’s typically French)

After the market, we walked to the main gate of the city and started our self-guided walking tour through Arles.  Vincent Van Gough lived in Arles starting in 1888 until he cut off his ear and went to St. Rémy to a mental institution.  The city has done a nice job of highlighting his paintings from his time in Arles.  While none of the original paintings are there, the city has set up about ten steel and concrete easels comparing Van Gough’s pairing to the current city view.

All afternoon, we walked around the town looking for the easels while enjoying the ancient sites.  A Roman Arena was built 2000 years ago for Gladiators who fought wild animals in front of 20,000 spectators.  Next to that is a Classical Théâtre from the 1st century BC where 10,000 people could watch performance.

We ate a panini at a local sidewalk café and explored another old square, Place de la République where the City hall and a beautiful cathedral called St Trophime are located .

By the end of the afternoon, the kids were ready to relax so we went back to our hotel and sat in the pretty garden and swam until it was time to walk back to our train.  The water was SO cold that the kids could barely stay in for more than a minute, but they had fun trying.  It was a refreshing way to end our day.

A couple hours later, we were back in our apartment in Aix-en-Provence and happy it was only Saturday night.  Brewster played basketball on Sunday and the routine of school started again Monday.  This was the kids last week of school before the two week “All-Saints” break.   The primary school celebrated Halloween yesterday at school with a costume party and treats. Parents were invited so  I joined Sadie for a magic show and party.

I sat alone at the school, watching the French parents socialize.  I imagined their conversation. My French is not good enough to engage, so I just sat with a smile on my face.  It is awkward,  like “a table for 1” without the comfort of your phone.  I look at it as a practice of patience and stillness.  I have a new appreciation for those who don’t spake English or have friends at school functions.  It’s not easy to be alone when everyone around is not.

After awhile, Sadie sweetly invited me to have a snack with her friends.  I visited with two of her Indian friends who speak English.  They had never celebrated Halloween before so this was all new.  Sadie was quite the expert on the subject.

I have made a couple friends,  just not through the school.   I participate in a French conversation class on Thursdays and met a few women.  My friend Alisa who is ThaiAmerican and married to a French man, invited us to her house a few kilometers out of town last night. I was happy that the bus went close enough to her house that we could go easily.  I was stunned how beautiful the country side is being so close to the city.  We didn’t stay long because the last bus ran was just an hour after we arrived and the kids felt a little awkward themselves.  But it was nice to socialize with other adults.

I learned two interesting things about the French while I was at Alisa’s.  When the French greet each other or say goodbye, they kiss twice, once on each cheek. I knew that, but I didn’t realize is a handshake or hug is very awkward for the French.  No touching, just two kisses on the cheek. Secondly, when serving cheese, the French cut from the center of the cheese so the guest tastes a bit of the center and the rind.  I am sure if I stayed later, I would have learned more!

We were happy to be home last night and to wake up this morning, Saturday, October 20th.  Today is the day that Matt arrives! It has been six weeks since we have been together and we are so grateful the day has come!  He is flying Salt Lake-Paris and then Paris-Marseille. We’ll head to the airport to meet him this afternoon.  He’ll be here for the two week break through his birthday on November 3rd.   We leave on Tuesday for Nice, Corsica and Florence.  On paper, it looks a like a honeymoon with kids!  We are so blessed and looking forward to more travel.