France, Une

After a week spent in Gubbio, admiring the Umbrian scenery, hiking, riding horses, and making new friends (Fabio and Maurizio), we headed north and west. We spent 5 days in the South of France, near St. Tropez. Our good friends, Laura and Gilles, had offered us their beautiful home. We day tripped to this spot:

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? Well, the Vatican was the smallest country; San Marino is the third smallest, and this tiny country, barely 4 kilometers by 800 meters, holds the second smallest position. This is a monarchy; U.S. citizens became better acquainted with the country when a top movie star, and my vote for most beautiful woman of all time, married their monarch. They hold a very famous Formula One car race on the windy roads of the capitol (where the regal actress met her untimely death). Can you see the large building with the green roof on the right, in the background above Siena’s head? It is the most famous casino in the world, where Bond, James Bond, had martinis whilst wearing his tux. This is Monaco, playground of the rich and famous. We saw Rolls Royce’s, Ferrari’s, and Lamborghini’s. Good thing we didn’t have to pass any of them in our underpowered Fiat Panda.

We visited the largest gorge in Europe, the Gorges du Verdon. You can’t believe how steep the cliffs are, like the Grand Canyon, with no crowds, parking lots, admission fees guardrails or warning signs. We were the only ones there. Our hopes for a hike were foiled when the rain caused the paths to become slippery, and slipping was out of the question for these walks! Unfortunately, the clouds descended about half way in, providing us with white out conditions for the tortuous drive. The part that we could see was spectacular, though.

We consoled ourselves once out of the mountains at a couple of chateaus, where we sampled several wines. The wine in this region is wonderful. We prefer red, but the rose here is quite good, too. This chateau did not have our favorite wines, but the tiny chapel here had a Chagall and two Gioccometti sculptures.

Can you recognize this spot? Perhaps if it were night time, and the lights all had halos around them? This is the Night Café, in Arles, which Vincent Van Gogh immortalized in his painting of the same name. The town is largely a Van Gogh memorial town, with plaques describing where each of his paintings had been done. Kind of ironic, considering no one there bought a single one of his paintings. In fact, when he was in the local psychiatric hospital, he gave a painting to his doctor, who liked it so well, he used it to fix a hole in his chicken coop. I sincerely hope the doctor didn’t tell Van Gogh this, as it could only accelerate his suicidal tendencies.

I don’t think I have mentioned the food lately. While in the U.S., we might go out for French, or Italian food, here the foods vary tremendously within each country. We try to have the specialty of the region (except when it is something truly gross, like tripe, for instance). The local truffles (the mushroom-like things the pigs dig up, not the rich chocolate dessert type) in Gubbio gave the pasta an earthy, wonderful taste. Pesto in the area around Genoa was fabulous. In fact, in Italy, it is called Genovese Sauce. The pizza was good everywhere in Italy, but none better than in Napoli, where they claim to have invented it. There are never many toppings on the pizzas, usually just a sprinkling of cheese. The seafood, especially the clams, were delicious in Venice. The best thing in Florence was the Gelato. And we had several. In St Tropez, we had their special dessert: a sponge cake with rich custard filling. Tonight, we had cassoulet in Carcassone. Cassoulet is a casserole with white beans, duck and sausage. I started the meal with a Hypocras, an aperitif made with white wine, and, forgive my inability to understand the waiter’s French, some sort of aromatic plant???? It was really delicious, whatever it was. Far better than the pastisse Kim ordered, anyway. Pastisse is a licorice flavored drink, served with water to dilute it first, so that you can swallow the vile concoction (Kim liked it, but we know how suspect his taste is…).

On to the Beattie Beer Index. Kim was commenting on how he couldn’t name a French beer. I replied that they had a few good beers. The first two bars we tried, though, did not have any French beers. And, with how patriotic the French are, you’ve got to figure their beer isn’t so hot, or they would sell it. So, there is no report on the beer, yet. The wine is another story. We usually spend about 3 Euro for a bottle, 8 Euro on a splurge or in restaurant. (today, that’s about $4 and $11, respectively).

Merci to all of you who write to us! We miss you and appreciate your letters.
Cin Cin (French, for Cheers!)
The Beattie Clan