Into the Mountains.....

So we started early, early for us...8AM...we packed the coffee into a thermos, brought cups and sugar cubes and even milk in a tiny glass jar. We got Denise into the car...picked up cousin Bernard at his apartment in Menton and off we went. I get very car sick, very quickly...so out of kindness Bernard drove very very carefully, which is no small thing when you are winding your way through the crazy roads here. After about ten minutes in the car though we had a six car parade behind us.....Very unhappy drivers but Bernard never let it get to him. He said, "Let them wait" in a heavy French accent. Its wonderful to have no set place to go and no set time to get there. We wandered up the mountain pass. There are no guard rails, barriers or fences of any kind. And the road is barely big enough for one small car. Scooters come out of nowhere and pass you, there are always cyclists around every corner and in our case, cows blocking the road. But no problem, we found our way around.

What I can't get over about this country is that every single direction you look there is something beautiful to see. The ocean has my heart for sure but the mountains were dazzling as

well. Constantly changing, with every turn, there was something to see and the air was so clean and fresh. You quickly became addicted just to breathing. Really.....

The road was carved right out of the mountain side or even right through the mountains and often the paving would stop and we were on dirt. We stopped along the way to look closely at a World War II tank and the ruins left over of the army barracks. Even that site could not mar the beauty around us.

We came across one cyclist who was seriously blocking the road, riding right in the middle of the mountain pass. Personally, I think he was helicopter-dropped there because there is no way anyone could ride that far up. And there are no houses for miles. Anyway, he finally pulled over to allow us passage but shouted after us in French ......something about a truck being able to get around him so what was our problem......

Around and around we traveled hairpin curves .... higher and higher. Finally, Bernard found the restaurant he had in mind. A small, remote place where we sat outside and drank in the views. "Who eats with views like this?" Dennis kept asking, every 5 minutes or so. No one is the answer...no matter how often he asks the answer is no one. No one gets to see this. The menu is hand written on a tiny table blackboard and we start with a locally made orange wine..next comes the meal, along with bread I would easily kill for, wine and then cheese and red wine and then dessert and then espresso and then an after-meal drink of clear strong liquid that I cannot swallow nor identify...mostly because I can no longer swallow anything. The whole process takes about 3.5 hours. No one makes you feel like you need to leave...ever. They may even stay open just to allow you to sit there all day. No one brings the check unless you flag them down, and beg them for it. Then they look a little hurt but bring the check...with chocolates piled on top of it and then spend many more minutes ignoring you and your need for change. Somehow I managed to eat every single thing that was placed in front of me. Every drop and every crumb was amazing...and I was so full Dennis had to roll me to the car. Breathing, laughing and sitting upright was very painful but worth it.

On to more and more beautiful mountain scenes, the kind that make you want to run about singing while surrounded by children whom you have dressed in outfits made from your curtains. Truly, the mountains are that beautiful. I understand now how things like bursting into song can happen. Breathing all this clean air can really go to your head...make you do crazy things.

We found an amazing waterfall just along the road, no signs to mark it or lay claim

to it. Without Bernard we may not have seen it at all....but there it was crashing down in all its

unpolluted glory, with no fences around it or anything stopping us from climbing all over it and possibly maiming ourselves. I love this country! So of course we climbed all over it and played in it until Bernard honked the car horn demanding we return to him...

We traveled through tiny towns and villages where our car could hardly pass through the crowded streets of people, and musicians and people sitting outside eating. Everywhere we went smelled like wildflowers and every time we stopped the car you could hear cow bells in the distant trees. You never get enough cow bells.

So the entire journey took 12 hours but the time fly by. I blinked my heavy eyelids and we were back in Menton, kissing Bernard goodbye and heading home.