France

Derrière divots on the Côte d’Azur

20130827-133428.jpgThe sun is gloriously warm, the ocean a sparkling azure jewel, Yachts, pleasure cruisers, and colourful air beds upon which bronzed bathers are lazing bob gently on the swell, the Sancerre’s chilled to perfection and…Oh sorry, did I hear you say you’re too busy buying your ticket to read on? Please do for the Côte d’Azur, well Villefranche-sur-mer at least, is really rather special.

It is also fraught with danger…

Today I learnt that it is pertinent to hide when cruise ships arrive. All that nylon stretched across impossibly large derrières is a tad too much to bear. Why?

Said derrières clearly needed a beach fix. The beach, as usual, was wall to wall and claiming a smidgeon of territory required the usual cunning, deftness and abandonment of ‘personal space’ issues. Hence my poorly veiled glee as I staked my claim on a square metre recently vacated by a family. And that’s when the shadows loomed. And not of the cloud variety. I’m talking the beach fix derrières.

First, they threw down massive beach baskets from which enormous beach sheets, blow up devices, sunscreen, hats, magazines, water and baguettes were exhumed. I swear I saw a small manservant being pushed back in.

20130827-133200.jpgWith the detritus of beach pleasure released, they then crafted little divots from the pebbly surface in which to park said bottoms. The hollows clearly weren’t suitably sized for once towels were spread; both pairs began to grind side to side until satisfied. It was not a pretty sight or sound. Ocean view thoroughly obscured, I recompensed with the shade they afforded and a delicious little piece of eavesdropping. And that’s when I discovered they were from the cruise ship…20130827-133405.jpg‘Which side of the ship do we need to be on to see the Panama Canal?’ asked one of the other in a strong Texan voice. ‘Other’ didn’t have an answer; she was busy planning her outfit for this evening’s disco theme. Emitting a small shudder from the question intimating one G&T too many and a vision best erased, I gathered my sarong and departed. I had to. Just knew I would not be able to contain myself should ‘other’ ask ‘What happens to the ice sculptures when they melt?’

I know you’re dying for photo proof but I very much fear I’d be hunted down and sat upon. These are from a non-cruise ship day.

Villefranche sur mer…ahhhhh!

Just down the Ruelle du Marché steps below my window there’s a live band rocking out universal classics; a few steps more, the distinct hum of revelers spilling out of the restaurants lining the foreshore. People are sprawled on the stairs leaning into each other, smoking, laughing and singing along in predominantly French and English accents. They’re totally ‘in the moment’.

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20130822-190227.jpg I might be in the old town’ where history connects with ancient fortifications, in this case The Citadel, but that’s where ‘old’ ends. Villefranche, an extension of Nice on the Côte d’Azur or ‘French Riviera’ is not only quaint, it’s abuzz with activity. Similar to the Cinque Terra in terms of architectural influence. Tall houses in the same faded patna of terra cotta, pink, yellow and cream with moss green shutters, trompe l’oeil facades and pots of Bougainvillea crowding less narrow enterprise lined lane ways. But that’s where the similarities end.

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20130822-185742.jpgThe locals smile a friendly ‘Bonjour!’ They happily relieve you of your strangled french and enjoy testing their english.

‘Arretez! Vous tues langue notre!’

Stop! You are killing our language!  And they work hard at making you feel welcome. It’s refreshing, rejuvenating and spirited and you know what? It’s working.
Sparkling, azure blue ocean dotted with yachts, bay cruisers and speed boats; a balmy 32 degrees, the best bread in Europe, chilled G&T’s and a cozy, albeit tiny abode to retreat to right in the beating heart of this dear little village.

 

 

 

20130822-185613.jpg20130822-185850.jpg Stay tuned for local highlights, the low down on retail therapy in Nice and a desperately needed hair style update (lest I be labelled a Wookie)

Posted in AT PLAY, Explore | Comments Off on Villefranche sur mer…ahhhhh!

Thanks Claude!

Admired Monet’s famous water lily series at the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in NYC some time ago and fell in love with the soft, subtle light the artist had managed to capture. Later to learn the man had actually painted over 250 variations of those lilies, the outcomes now scattered across the globe. How fortunate to be able to view the actual source of that inspiration?

Yet it’s just a garden, a 20130528-165445.jpgtad larger than average but just a garden. Similar flora busily blossoming right under our noses in our own country…in our parks, over the neighbor’s fence, on window ledges, by the side of the road, heck even doing their bit in old tyres turned into swan shaped planters so frequent to the central west and many a Nana’s back yard. And all thanks to folk who share the same passion as Monet did. But how often do we take the time to appreciate a gardener’s efforts? I make a note to take the time to do so from now on.

Seasonally dependent, reliant on just the right weather mix (the waterlilies were yet to open due to unseasonably cold weather), bud to bloom to wither so rapid, fleeting. Thank goodness Monet was inspired to capture the beauty of his Giverny garden for us all to enjoy, all year round.

Thanks Claude

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