Never Say Never

When we returned home from Istanbul last year, I said that was it.   I was happy.  I'd seen a lot of the world and if we didn't go on another cruise, I ws perfectly happy.  Walt wondered if we had enough money to continue cruising.

I've been telling everyone that we aren't going anywhere in 2014.

Silly me.  Char calls and we, her humble servants, obey.

We aren't going the whole way with Char and Mike.  She offered me the choice of the "Elegant Elbe" or "Portraits of Southern France."  Or both.  Both (which she and Mike are doing) was more than we could pay, and longer than we wanted to stay (if you do both and take extensions to Berlin and Paris, you would be gone almost a month).  

But each time we plan one of these trips, I put in my oar for France and get overruled.  I've loved the place we have visited, but I really would like to take a tour of France, to revisit the places I saw with Jeri and Char (and others) in 2009 and for Walt, who wasn't on that trip, to see the places I loved at that time.

So we fly into Paris in October, spend 3 days, fly to Lyon (or take the train--I remember it's not a very long ride from Paris to Lyon, I don't think) and board our ship and then cruise on down the river to Avignon, from where we go to the Marseilles airport and home.  Not quite two weeks.  Perfect.  And October, my request, so we miss the summer heat.  I don't care if it rains.  I just am tired of sweating all the time.

All of our previous trips have been to countries where I don't speak the language.  I don't speak French either, but as a French major several eons ago, I have a slight knowledge of the language.  Susan, who owns Logos, was an ESL teacher and speaks several languages.  Logos has a monthly French conversation meeting for "advanced non-native speakers of the language."  I am by no means "advanced," but I told her I want to come to the meetings.  Now she only writes to me in French.  Once a teacher, always a teacher.  I can't make the first meeting, but she tells me I should read the discussion articles anyway, so I'm plunged immediately into brushing up my once serviceable, if not exactly fluent French.

I checked out resources on the internet, for helping speak french.   I found this one video for conversational French and as the actors speak, the words appear on the bottom of the screen--in French (you guess the meanting from context).   It was a few seconds into the video, which I had been reading with no problem, when I suddenly realized it was not subtitles, but French words, which I understood with no problem.  Had to laugh at that.

I'm also thinking of all the things I left France sorry I had not done and wondering if I can fit them in.  I really regretted not going to the Louvre, but the day the group went there, I wanted to see the Paris Opera House, setting for The Phantom of the Opera and realized that if I went to the Louvre, I would not have enough energy left to also do the opera house. I loved exploring the opera house, but wish I had also seen the Louvre.

Walt and I went up in the Eiffel Tower several years ago, so with only 3 days, we probably don't need to do that again, but I never went to the Champs Elysées (though our bus was there) and would like to go back and visit a macaron shop that our tour guide waxed eloquent about.

I am thrilled to be returning to Arles, my favorite stop in 2009.   This time I want to take the Van Gogh walk, which leads to many places where he painted some of his more famous works.  I also want to go to the Van Gogh tribute museum, which I was too late to visit last time.  It contains works by all sorts of artists, tributes to Van Gogh himself.

And while I have been in Avignon before, we didn't have time to take the tour of the Palace of Popes, which is included on this  tour.  We also have an optional tour (which we will, of course, take) to Châteauneuf-du-Pape, perhaps our only chance to taste some of those wines.

So I'm excited about this trip, perhaps more excited than I have been about the last several trips.  Looking forward to preparing for it!

Bonjour, Ciao

Tonight we had a reunion of the group that went to France and Italy. Well, not exactly a reunion of the whole group, but Char and her daughters, Jeri and myself, and Sheri, who is the mother of Ashley (who brought "Bongo," the stuffed monkey on the trip), all got together. (Pat was supposed to come too, but things got too complicated and she was unable to join us.) The occasion was that Jeri was in town and what better way to celebrate?

The day started with my taking Polly to the vet to see about starting her on Prozac, which she probably will do next week, in the hope of mellowing her out to allow her to actually make friends with a potential forever family. After hearing her story, the vet looked at me for a long time and said "YOU can't adopt her, huh?" A logical question, since she's lived here 9 months already. Jeri is convinced we should adopt her. I'm not convinced and I know Walt really isn't convinced.

Polly shook like a leaf all the way to the doctor, and fell asleep in my lap on the ride home. I'm hoping Prozac will help that a bit.

Anyway, I then got in the car and took off for the Bay Area. Jeri was at my mother's and I was meeting them for lunch. Except that I got stopped on the highway for a good 30 minutes due to an accident somewhere up ahead. I was an hour later than I wanted to be when I arrived, but we had a nice lunch, a nice visit, and then took pictures before we left.

Then Jeri and I took a leisurely drive over to Charlotte's house, which included meandering through the UC Berkeley campus and reminiscing about my memories of being there in the 60s. We avoided the always horrible back-up line of traffic going through the Caldecott tunnel by going over the mountain, which was also fun.

We got to Char's not horrendously early and sat around chatting until the others arrived. We had wine and clam dip and other hors d'oeuvres and it was just really nice seeing everybody again.

There were few of us so that we could all fit in one car.

We went to an Italian restaurant, Incontro, which had been reviewed by Check Please, Bay Area, and which lived up to the praise it received on that television show. The wait staff in particular was very friendly and one cheery waiter took a group photo for us.

The food was good (my gnocci with truffle oil was fabulous, if not exactly photogenic), we laughed a lot, shared memories and updates on current events. Just a wonderful, relaxing evening with good friends, after which Jeri and I drove back here to Davis.

All in all a very good day.

I Miss Jeri

Jeri has posted her "Self in France" photos to Facebook. If you're not on Facebook, you can't see them, but if you are, I have shared them on my page and the link on her page is here: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/album.php?aid=124181&id=558678824.

Presumably her "Self in Italy" set will be posted soon.

Looking through the photos makes me realize what a special time it was with her, what a tremendous help "my sherpa" was to me, and how much I miss her energy, her enthusiasm, her positive attitude, and her zest for life.

These two pictures were taken in Paris.

The first was taken after our boat tour on the Seine, the second at the opera house (see me and Pat at the top of the stairs). I remember the long trek from the boat back to the hotel and how Jeri stayed with me every slow step, stopping when I needed to stop and was always cheering me on ("Come on, Mom--you can do it!"). I wonder what she thought at the end of the day, realizing that she was probably going to have to do this the whole trip.

The opera house was very special because only the three of us went to it. My very first trip out of the United States (other than Canada, which I didn't think really counted--I didn't need a passport for it) was because of The Phantom of the Opera, which we took Jeri (and all the other kids) to see in London after she graduated from UC Santa Barbara. Seeing the setting of that show "live" in Paris was really a very special thing for me and I was so glad to be sharing it with Jeri, who not only kept me going, but would scout on ahead for things we should see, to save me having to walk that far.

I love this photo. Our hotel was a bit of a walk from where the X is, the direction away from the camera. The X marks the spot where we scattered Michele's ashes. Ian had pointed out a cemetery high on the hill overlooking Nice and the morning we were scheduled to leave, Jeri set out at the crack of dawn to climb to the cemetery. She was back in time for breakfast.

The thing I loved about Jeri was that she never missed an opportunity. She saw everything and did everything she could fit in. When I look back over our photos, hers are mostly of sweeping vistas taken from high places, mine are of food that we ate! Not that my experience wasn't just as meaningful for me, but watching Jeri set off on yet another adventure was just such an inspiration.

I loved it that she refused to think negatively. Whenever I started to complain, she would think of a positive about the situation and cheer me up. She would dash into a store to buy water for me, and in Nice found a place to buy one of those Provencal patterned napkins that I could use to wipe my face. It would become invaluble. When I thought I was going to collapse before getting to the bus in Versailles, she ran and brought me a sherbet that was about the best thing I ate on the trip. I truly don't know what I would have done without her.

"You've got to learn to say yes, Mom," she would say to me as I was embarrassed to let her carry my bag for me...and then she'd carry it for me so I could move easier.

This was another photo taken in Nice, when we stopped at a Russian Orthodox church. Jeri had been taking self-portraits all over the place at all sorts of angles and to take this one she found a new angle.

(the camera is resting against her foot)

Jeri and I probably will never have the opportunity to travel together again like we did on this trip, but I wouldn't have missed it for anything. I don't know where she gets her love of life or her positive attitude about everything -- certainly not from me! -- but it can be infectious and definitely was the thing that got me down those damn 250 steps in Portovenere and helped keep me from collapsing on the streets of Florence in the heat and humidity, trying to keep up with the group that was rushing to the Accademia to see "David."

Jeri, you were just great and I'm glad we had the time together. I'm also glad that you didn't have to hang around your fat old Mom the entire time and could go off on your own to all those high places I am now able to see through your photos.

Thanks, Honey, for being you!

It Wasn't Supposed to Hurt This Time

Around 7 p.m., a group of us walked from the hotel down to the beach, past the reviewing stands where the girls had gathered the night before to cheer on the last of the triathlon competitors, down the stairs to the rocky beach and out onto a bit of rock that jutted out into the ocean. Char pulled a baggie from her purse and we all, one by one, climbed out onto the edge of the rocks and tossed a handful of Michele's ashes into the Mediterranean.

We had dealt with the news of her death, cried through her memorial, scattered most of her ashes in Mendocino and now, a year later, we didn't really think that it would still be emotional...but it was. Michele's dream was to go to France and she never made it. Now part of her ashes will remain in this country forever. I get emotional even writing about it several hours later.

Sheri and her daughter Ashley accompanied us and we decided that by now, especially since they were with us for this "ceremony," they were definitely "family."

This is the first day since the trip began when I wasn't convinced I'd die. (OK...slight exagageration). I'm actually feeling better about walking, though the group would be hard pressed to know that! I'm still bringing up the rear, stopping to catch my breath and huffing and puffing when I go up hill, but I can tell that it's really getting better.

We went to a hilltop town of St. Paul de Vince today. Unlike Eze, you don't have to hike up a tall hill to get there. In fact, our driver, Thierry, dropped us off at the top of a hill and we walked DOWN to the town (and then up through the steep, winding streets). This is a picturesque place which obviously thrives on tourists, but it's so charming you don't mind. And mixed in with the souvenir shops are art galleries and other interesting things to see. I helped do my bit to support the local economy.

Char, Pat and I found a nice restaurant overlooking the valley and had a wonderful, relaxing lunch (Char and I each had jambon et melon, prosciutto and cantaloupe that was just the refreshing taste we were looking for, then we went back to the agreed-upon meeting spot for the group and watched people play boule,, which I recognized from my childhood near North Beach in SF as bocci ball.

We drove back to Nice and had to say goodbye to Thierry, who will be replaced by another bus driver. Many of us kissed him goodbye. He's been a real gem and such a sweetheart for the past several days.

The plan was to go to the beach and swim but I had an unexpected ... uh ... intestinal event which made me nervous about being away from a toilette so I opted out of the trip. I actually think I napped a bit while the others were swimming.

When Jeri came back, I was feeling OK again, so we went down to join the others in the Pinata party, as well as Shirley and Jenny, who have become a real part of our group. I have a wonderful photo of Pat sitting at the table under an umbrella she'd brought along because, of course, it was raining.

We had some wine and cheese and mini salamis (thinner than a hot dog) on baguettes while we tasted wine and then headed out on our mission to scatter Michele's ashes.

After the ashes had been scattered, we went to the big plaza to find an eatery for our last dinner in France. There was much hilarity and good food (I had gnocci with roquefort sauce, which is perhaps not exactly the wisest dinner to have after a bout of diarrhea, but it seems to have assimilated just fine).

Then the long walk back to the hotel and now I'm sitting here and the others -- all of them, I think, are out laughing on the patio, which is just steps from where I am sitting, so I think I'm going to end this and go join them.

Tomorrow I have to leave my French behind on the Riviera and try to pick up a bit of Italian. I also hope to swim tomorrow, since we will be at the hotel with the rooftop swimming pool...our first four-star hotel on this trip.

(oh dear...someone from the hotel staff just came past me to tell the group to be quiet, so all the fun seems to have ended... I guess we are too rowdy a group!)

Why is my dinner looking at me?

Enjoy an orientation tour of Nice with your tour manager this morning. See the city's many sights, including Cimiez, then continue to the hilltop village of St. Paul de Vence, home of the painter Marc Chagall. Enjoy afternoon exploration time in Nice to discover the Old Town or catch some sun on the beach.

I don't know why I'm leaving in these tour descriptions, because we pretty much haven't followed the itinerary ever since day 1!

Today was our day to tour Monaco. After breakfast here in the hotel, we boarded the bus again and made our way out of town. Some had gone down to the beach early in the morning because there is a Triathlon going on today and they were able to watch some of it.

The drive to Monaco took awhile but the scenery was spectacular. I'm not really much into the "lives of the rich and famous" and can get tired of ostentation pretty quickly, but this was definitely worth seeing, even if only for the yachts in the harbor. My God are those impressive!

We went first to the palace grounds, walked through the garden and up to the chapel, where Ranier and Grace (and all of Ranier's ancestors) are buried, and then onto the grounds in front of the palace itself. The view is, of course, spectacular. Ian generously gave us 30 minutes, I think, to enjoy ourselves and then to meet back at the "yellow submarine," which sits in front of the Oceanographic Institute that Jacques Cousteau used to head up.

They are getting ready to start the Tour de France here, so the shops are all full of memorabilia of the race and the town filled with banners and posters. We will miss it (perhaps fortunately), as we will be in Italy when the race starts in Monaco the first week of July.

From the palace, we went to the Casino in Monte Carlo, a place that held absolutely NO interest for me. Some of the others went in and played the slots for a few minutes, but it was not the 30 minute stop that Ian had expected (I suspect maybe it was he who wanted to play the slots!)
Next was the place I'd been dreading, the hilltop town of Eze. It's very high up and the only way to get there is to walk, so Char and I opted out and found a nice place to sit on a bench in the shade and just talk. It was delightful. So nice not to feel rushed!

Then we drove to a perfume factory and had a tour. Very interesting. I had never thought about how perfume was made before...it's even more complex than wine making! I think we all came away with some purchases. I bought Jeri a little soap duck, which is hand-painted...and one for me too.

Ian had hoped to take us somewhere else, but is saving that for tomorrow. Instead we headed back to Nice. The younger ones went back to the beach to check out the Triathlon, I laid down on the bed and slept for nearly 3 hours.

I thought I was to wait for the group to meet at 7 to go to dinner, but Shirley and Jenny (sisters from the Danville area) came in, having had dinner and saying they had just seen Char and Pat at a cafe. They took me there and I joined them. Char and I each had the "salad royale," which was a HUGE plate of smoked salmon and three enormous prawns (still with head and feelers attached...which is why I entitled this entry "why is my dinner looking at me"? We sat there eating this glorious food and listening to an accordionist seranading us with La Vie en Rose. How much more "French" can you get?

We came back to the hotel and sat in the courtyard for a while regaling Shirley and Jenny with tales of our many camping adventures over the years!

We will have most of tomorrow free, after our town visit early in the day, and we plan to go down to the beach and send the last of Michele's ashes out into the Mediterranean. She dreamed of going to France and never made it while she was alive, but she has had a great trip so far and we will leave her here when we go to Italy the next day.

Convivial Propinquity

In the morning drive through the famous lavender fields of the Camargue area to Aigues-Mortes, known for its authentic medieval ramparts. Continue to Cézanne's town of Aix-en-Provence, then on to Nice, the Côte d'Azur's cosmopolitan capital. Upgraded dinner this evening.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Ian. "Recline your seats and get into a mood of convivial propinquity as we continue on toward Nice." (Yes, he really does talk like that.)

We had left the wonderful Hotel Calendal that morning and taken a "stroll" through the winding, twisting streets to the center of town and the farmer's market. Oh my. Such an experience for all the senses! I could have stood at the spice area alone all day. Mountains of curries, peppers, and spices I've never heard of before. Baskets of lavender blossoms (lavender is VERY big here!). Then to the fruit and vegetable displays (I bought peaches that tasted like real peaches...can't remember the last time that happened!), the cheeses, the meats, the sausages, the clothes, the housewares. The market runs the entire length of the town and Ian had given us 2 hours to wander.

I went off on my own for awhile and listened to a guy playing an accordion, laughed to see American Indians in headdress performing to a repetitive 12 note "tune" that repeated endlessly. I even was hit up for a donation by the local SPCA and played with a tiny terrier puppy who looked like he was about a month old. He was in a box with 4 tiny kittens next to a cage with two young goats.

After 2 hrs we met Ian again and were taken through the town church, and then through the streets again "just a bit" to the bus, which was about 5 miles away (OK--I exaggerate, slightly) On the way we passed through the Van Gogh walk. I've now photographed the famous cafe he painted and stopped at one of the overlooks, where is posted a picture of the painting and you can look up and see what he saw when he painted it.

People on this group have been very kind to me and very patient. Not only is the weight a problem, but humidity is about 60% and on a good day, humidity can lay me low without having the Bataan marches to deal with. I try not to be too much of a bother, but sometimes it can't be helped.

After we left Arles, we drove to Les Beaux. I don't know exactly what Les Beaux is because I opted out of the tour when I saw it would involve climbing a very steep mountain. What Ian neglected to mention was that there were lots of shops and restaurants en route and that this would be our lunch stop for the day. I sat in the bus with our driver, Thiery, while it got hotter and hotter. Finally Char came down, having decided not to press on to the top, and we found a rock to go sit in the sun, where a cool breeze played.

Les Beaux is a fortress at the top of this hill. I took pictures from below, but still don't know why it's there. I will research this when I get home again.

My wonderful daughter showed up with a pannini for me and a 1.5 liter bottle of water, most of which I drank in one swallow! Char's kids arrived too and we all sat there having a picnic by the side of the road, while the buses and cars rolled by. Kind of fun, in a weird way.
It was about a 3 hour drive to Nice, and I think most of us napped. I was VERY grateful to Tom for the great battery pack he gave me because I had almost finished my book when the battery of the iTouch signaled that it was almost out. I dug out the recharger and was able to finish the book easily. Thanks again, Tom!

We finally came over a rise and there stretched out before us was the Mediterranian, with a big cruise ship in front of us. We drove down to the coast and Ian showed is the castle near where Renoir lived the last part of his life. He had come to the South of France hoping to help his arthritis, but spent the last years of his life painting with brushes strapped to his hands because his fingers were so affected by the arthritis. I never knew that before.

We drove along the shore, watching the parasailers, the sunbathers (didn't see any topless women, though we have been promised they are there) and eventually wended our way through the tiny streets to the hotel.

Arrival at Hotel Flore was an adventure, as Thiery (the bus driver) had to parallel park on this teeny street with tons of cars, and Ian behind him directing him. He did a beautiful job and we all applauded him when he finished.

The hotel is nice, upscale, and lacks the charm of Calendal. The staff is not really very helpful, unlike Calendal. I miss Arles!

Ian gave us a walking tour to orient us to the town. The rest of the group headed back to the hotel to get ready for dinner and Ian suggested Jeri and I walk ahead to an intersection "about a minute" from the restaurant, so I wouldn't have to walk the whole distance. I was very grateful.
We sat and people-watched until the group arrived and then went to Brassiere Flo, which used to be a theatre, now converted into a restaurant. They have kept the theatre motif, however. There is a grand drape on the stage, pulled aside to reveal the kitchen staff at work, for example.
We had a lovely dinner and celebrated Ashley's 16th birthday with creme brulee with a candle in it.

On the streets there were impromptu tributes to Michael Jackson, with dancers and music. The older folk went to the hotel while the younger stayed around to watch.
I took a Tylenol PM for the first time and managed to sleep most of the night, save for an hour around 3 a.m. when I panicked because I couldn't find my glasses. But I did when I woke up, finally and all is well.

Today we pay a call on the Grimaldis. (They may not be home...) :)

We will be staying for 3 nights at the

Hotel de Flore
2, rue Maccarani
Nice

No Charge for the Extra Protein

(Happy Anniversary, Walt!)

This morning journey to Avignon on the fastest train in Europe, the TGV. View the imposing Papal Palace and the nearby Pont du Gard. Continue to Nîmes, a city full of Roman history and known for textiles. Denim, the fabric of blue jeans, derives its name from this city. See the Roman Arena and La Maison Carrée.

I have, from time to time, on this trip, thought I might die.

Today I felt as if I'd died and gone to heaven. Truly.

All I can say is...if you are ever in Arles, DO NOT PASS UP THE OPPORTUNITY to stay at the Hotel Calendel. Rick Steeves recommends it and for good reason. It is absolutely wonderful. Jeri and I have a 2 room suite overlooking the old Roman Arena (smaller version of the Colliseum in Rome, only here they still use it, but for bullfights). The arena is literally across the street from us. Talk about a photo op.

But let me go back to last night first. Our last night in Paris. When I last wrote, I was waiting for Jeri to return from the Louvre so we could go to the Opera House, of "Phantom of the Opera" fame, which she, Pat and I did (Char collapsed after the Louvre, which is how I know I would have been if I had gone. "Breathtaking" is the best way to describe it. The theatre itself was closed because of rehearsal, but they did open a couple of boxes so people could peek in. They do mostly ballet at this opera house now, since they built a newer opera house a few years back. We guessed from the set that the rehearsal was for "La Fille Mal Gardee," though this was not a dance rehearsal. Still we were able to see the ornate theatre and the marvelous Chagall ceiling (the "new" ceiling!). Very definitely worth skipping the Louvre for, at least for me!

After we returned, it rained. Not lots of rain, but lots of thunder and enough to qualify to make this trip officially victim of The Blackord Curse (it always rains when Char travels!). We were all too tired to go far for dinner, so we just went across the street to an Italian place, where we were served by a very bored looking waitress in a shiny blue dress which clung provocatively, and with the greenest nails I'd ever seen. Dinner was very good (I had a salad--I'm finding that I'm so exhausted by the end of every day that I can't eat big meals on this trip. Maybe I'll lose some weight (tho the "pastry a day" and the glass of wine each night might offset that!)

Jeri and I got our bags packed before we went to bed because we had to board our bus at 5:45 a.m., but I hardly slept at all thru the night. Ian met us with bag breakfasts and we headed for Gard du Lyon, where the TGV (the high speed train) whisked us from Paris to Provence in just under 3 hours. Some beautiful scenery en route, especially as we got farther and farther south and saw fields of sunflowers and of lavender so purple it almost hurt your eyes.

We drove from Provence to Avignon, where is the Palace of the Popes. Avignon was the center of the Roman Catholic Church for a few centuries and you obviously can't have a pope without a palace. After Ian's history lecture and getting us oriented to the town, he left us to "wander."Jeri has been so amazing watching out for me. Stairs are increasingly more difficult, the uphills leave me gasping for breath, and the heat doesn't help at all. Jeri waits for me, watches out for me, helps me, but I don't want to tie her down, so I told her to run and frolic and we could meet for lunch, which we did.

Avignon has one of those great town squares, with a fabulous merry go round and lots of room to walk. There are several sidewalk cafes, so we chose on and ordered lunch. Jeri had another galette and I ordered a salad and quiche. The salad dressing was fabulous and I told Jeri to help herself to my salad and we could share. Suddenly she said, "uh...there's a worm in your salad!" as indeed there was. After I'd taken both a photo AND a video, I called the waiter over. He took my plate away and brought me back a new quiche and french fries! (Which I didn't want...I was very much enjoying the salad!) He didn't charge extra for the worm.

Next stop was Pont du Gard, an old Roman Aqueduct. The walk to where you can see it is quite long and both Char and I gave up and didn't actually go UP the the thing, though everyone else did. The black clouds that Ian laughed about when we predicted rain, kept buildig and building and for a brfief moment we had a real downpour. Ian still insists it never happened. But the Blackforfd curse is alive and well in the South of France!

No denying it--it's HOT here. And humid. But once we arrived at the hotel in Arles, all was forgiven when we stepped into the air conditioned room with all the luxury and the gorgeous view.

Ian gave us an hour to "settle in" before we had "a little stroll" around town (Ian's "strols" are the Bataan marches). Sherry, Jeri and I used the time to wander around the shops near the hotel. By the time Ian was ready to stroll, Char had decided she was beat, so opted out. I went as far as the Arena to hear the fascinating history behind the whole development of the Roman games. but then I figured out that a stroll down ito town would mean a stroll back up to the hotel and I just couldn't face another walk up the steep (for me) incline.

But Arles is the place where Van Gogh did some of his better known paintings and there is a Van Gogh tribute museum very near the hotel which I'd wanted to see, so I opted to do that instead. Unfortunately by the time Pat and I got there it was closing, so I can say I was in he lobby, but that's about all. We will be gone tomorrow before it opens for the day.

I came back to the hotel and checked e-mail and then we had a really fun,really delicious dinner here at the hotel. Great camaraderie is developing amolng this group. I like them all very much.
But it is now 11 p.m. Arles time and Ian has called for an 8 a.m. breakfast so we can walk down to the market in town before heading out thru the lavender fields for Nice. I'm going to go upstairs and take advantage of that HUGE bathroom to see if I can't wash off some of the smell of sweat. G'nite all!

Staying one night at Hotel Le Calendal
5 Rue Porte de Laure
Arles