Please pass the pamplemousse

One of the greatest loves of my love is food. Simple. I need it every day and I love it. That being said, I didn't really anticipate that this journey would revolve around food but it has.

In looking through my pictures today I realized just how much food I have photographed and consumed while being here in France.

Right from the start the trouble or pleasure began. We flew Delta on their business class and let me tell you, I can't imagine going back to coach. The moment you sit down they hand you glass (not plastic cup) of champagne. So instead of getting yelled at to put my purse under the seat in front of me, I am sipping champagne. Next they give you the menu FOR YOU TO CHOOSE YOUR DINNER. Have I mentioned that we are still attached by the jetway and not even moving yet? Naturally I chose cheese for my dessert and it hasn't stopped since then.

Now that's not to say that we ate out every night but the food everywhere we did go was unbelievable. Maybe it was the surroundings that made it so. Like this sandwich I had at a tiny restaurant that sits along the olive grove park in town. Just ham and swiss cheese, on the best bread ever baked. Some pink wine and I'm stuffing my face. Wonderful! Plus the knife they give you is fun.

Here, staying with my mother-in-law, food is a 3 meal a day event. Although breakfast is a easy, coffee (2 lumps of sugar please) bread

(cut into small pieces and toasted in the oven, thank

you) and assorted jams (blueberry, strawberry and fig)

However, lunch is at 1 and requires a full out meat and veggie along with a paired wine, fruit and dessert. Here I learned that my mother-in-law loves my potato salad and that celery greens are edible.

Here I just smashed some garlic spuds and put it with an amazing salad (amazing because of the cheese on top and Dennis makes the salad dressing in his lab) and this is added to the turkey breast. Notice my bitten piece of bread..sitting there as a testimony that I couldn't wait until I had taken the photo before devouring it. Bread glutton.

We did purchase along the way pieces to add to our meals. Cheese in Italy, desserts from Nice.

Actually, desserts by a general rule were always bought. I did absolutely no baking while in France. There was simply no point. Even the boxed cookies were amazing with hazelnuts or lemon bits in them. We found a particularly heavenly

coconut macaroon, soft, sweet and

wonderful at the grocery store. They even come enrobed in dark chocolate. I contrived many reasons that we needed to head down to the store but my real drive was for more coconut cookies. Even before we had the car, I would willingly trek the 3 miles in the hot sun of mid day so that I could have a supply in the fridge. Dennis got wise to that and soon put an end to my tomfoolery. So I spent my time and energy making meals, Dennis focused on buying the wine and we let France herself make the dessert.

Here we have the stove I managed to do all the cooking on during our stay in France. I found the knobs to be very disconcerting as well as the temp dial. Rather then try my hand at the math, I just guessed.

Some how though, everything worked fine. It must have been the wine.

The salads tasted better here....some how the daily fresh veggies just melted in your mouth. Biggest decisions of the meal were back balcony or front? Usually we chose the rear facing balcony that gave you the view of Monaco and the mountains. It was hot at mid-day so we tried to eat by 1PM and avoid too much sun.

And a word about the ice cream....it is worth

walking 3 miles for. Whether you get the frozen yogurt and enjoy in its lemon/citrus tartness or you combine the coconut with the dark chocolate... you won't come up for air until the entire cup is GONE. They serve it to you with this tiny plastic shovel-like spoon, I think it's to slow you down. But I was still able to stuff my face with every cool morsel, I just had to work quickly.

Almost every restaurant has something called "The Menu" which is their meal plan for you. It usually includes the starter (including a house drink) main meat choice, salad or pasta choice, dessert of choice, wine and bread and coffee. It ranges anywhere from 18 Euro to 200 Euro and up depending on where you eat it. I like the Menu because it takes the decision of what to order out of the problem and I can just sit back and enjoy every lovely surprise they bring me. Here is one menu we did in a restaurant at the Castle village before the concert in Monaco. Every bite was incredible.

We have also been able to enjoy the local flavor of friends that Dennis has known for years who have invited us to eat with them. Always an event and the flavors are unforgettable. The

highlight of this meal was shelling the little guys myself. It made me feel like I worked for the food. And the addition of the pink grapefruit (pamplemousse) in my salad was a summery surprise that paired so well with my white wine, my berry iced tea and the sweetness of the glaze on the fish. YUMMY!

Truly a wonderful experience, with something delicious to eat every single day. For 6 weeks I sat for every meal at a table, with a view and a tablecloth. Never once did I "take something to go" nor did I eat while getting dressed, driving or standing. It was a treat to enjoy the food, every single bite. I had to learn to relax and allow the time to float by. Getting your check here is almost insulting to the wait staff. You have to flag them down and beg for it. Once they have you in their restaurant they never want you to leave. But there is no iced coffee. That's my only suggestion. Other then that.....perfect. And for the record, if there was bread placed on the table, I ate every piece. I had to. It would have been a disgrace not too. I mean, look at it!!!

Thank you France, for feeding me so well. If you ever come to stay with me, I promise I will try just as hard to make you as happy as you have made me.

Last Concert in Monaco

Every summer, The Prince of Monaco hosts a series of classical concerts held in the evening to about 1,000 people gathered in the courtyard of The Palace. The seats range from 18 Euro and up. It is a "tie and jacket" affair that the armed guards are very serious about. They literally search the crowd for, no...not weapons or dangerous liquids or even cameras, though the later are strictly forbidden...no, the guards stop any man trying to gain entrance without a jacket and tie. They even have several on hand that you can rent, should you fail to read the boldface type on the ticket itself. But gain entrance you will not if there is no tie and jacket. I found this to be very charming.

So our visit here in the South of France has entered its Zenith with one week left. Dennis and I drove into Monaco last night arriving in the underground parking facility at around 8 PM. We found a staircase on the outside of the Palace grounds and began winding our way upward.

We surfaced near the Museum that is currently having a Damien Hirst exhibit of his art that includes such things as a great white shark under glass and full size model of a unicorn with half it's body dissected. Very

interesting, especially at dusk. The building itself is a work of art, surrounded by gardens and built right to the edge of the crashing seas and stone fortress walls.

I very much want to return and enjoy the museum itself, if not this trip than perhaps in the Fall.

We continued through the clear, cool night, walking upwards among the ancient government buildings and stopped by the church that witnessed the last wedding in Monaco when its crown Prince married little Miss Grace.

Just as we rounded the bend, and the darkness fell just a little more, tiny lights appeared in every nook and

cranny of the building, highlighting its beauty and all the many carvings. It was breathtaking. Almost everyone that walked past, stopped to admire it and photograph it.

As you make your slow walk through the village and stone buildings around you, there is a restaurant every few feet with scents to entice you to stop and spend a few hours enjoying what they have conjured up for your senses.

Dennis and I find it hard to resist them so we stop many times to read the menu posted on the outside wall and talk about what we would order if we were eating there.

The cobblestone pathways and narrow roads all run like rivers to the castle and there we soon find ourselves, at the very back of the fortress of Monaco with the grounds of the castle before us, lovely women and well dressed men walking towards the open doors, between the white uniformed guards of the Palace. The ancient doors are thrown open to welcome us but before we enter, we veered to the right and walked over toward the edge of the city walls to enjoy the view of the harbor below us as the evening sky darkened completely and the stars winked down at us.

Its hard to imagine a lovelier place when you are standing there and yet the camera cannot really capture what we can with our eyes. All the twinkling lights of the city together with the boats make on continuous diamond necklace draped on the shoulders of the sea.

Much like Cinderella, we looked up at the castle clock and saw that we only had a few minutes to find our seats. Off we went to join the gathering crowd at the doors. Very polite and well mannered, except for some loud British women asking the guards to take their picture, which the guard refused with an air of the highly insulted, we walked quietly inside. After your ticket is taken, an uniformed usher personally takes you to your assigned seat. Every single blue cushioned seat was taken by a jeweled lady or polished man. The night air was cool with the lights of the Palace around us glimmering over the marble and artwork all around us. The roof of the courtyard was the black cloudless sky with a few stars relieving the darkness. You could hear the irregular sounds of the musicians tuning their instruments, although they remained hidden from our sight.

I noticed the time had arrived to begin and the audience was quietly seated but still nothing happened. For several minutes we waited, with no one speaking. And then the Royal Family

arrived and were seated in the box directly opposite the stage. Prince Albert and his fiance' sat in front. The very moment they took their seats the musicians came out followed soon after by the conductor, to a great deal of cheering. The three pieces they place for us included one piece by Debussy, La Mer, that has always been a favorite of Dennis. But for me, the second piece we heard was the highlight of the concert, not because I knew it well but because of Dennis. His father had been a professional violinist and for his college graduation and thesis he chose to play the violin solo from Max Bruch and we were able to hear it played last night. Dennis told me that he never hears that music without seeing in his mind his father playing with such passion and abandon. Dennis' father John died in 1975. It was a very moving piece to hear. Fast, very fast, the concert ended and we were walking again through the night to our car.

But we had decided to spend some time in town so we made our way to the Cafe de Paris and the Hotel and Casino that sit side by side with it.

When Dennis was living in France years ago he worked at the hotel for some time. The amount of marble and the artwork overwhelms you quickly.

At the Cafe we secured a roadside table and were able to enjoy people watching and car watching as we ate a club sandwich and Dennis drank a beer while I devoured a berry berry and vodka frozen delight. Even the clocks at the Cafe are Rolex. Although you are not allowed to photograph the inside of anything, you can freely walk in and out of the hotel.....

the Casino and the grounds themselves. It quickly became 3 Am, and neither of us felt tired. Everyone is milling around and eating, laughing or drinking so it doesn't feel like very late at night or, in this case, very early on a Monday morning.

Even the cars parked outside the Casino are works of art in themselves.

We walked all along the cars and the gardens until we found our way back to the beginning and within minutes we were off towards home. ~ The end.

In memory of the Emperor

I am sitting, drinking my evening tea (caramel tea to which I add sugar making it what Dennis disapprovingly calls "liquid candy") and I am thinking back on our day today. We had no plans when we started this morning. After the usual quiet breakfast on the western facing balcony, Dennis started writing out his daily to-do list and I began doing my usual, the dishes. We decided to take advantage of the cool morning air and we loaded Denise into the car to drive out to the "Roman ruin" nearby. Dennis has a love of all things Roman and ruined. Now, getting ready to leave once the decision has been made is no small feat for us mostly because Captain Hook (our lovingly, affectionate name for Denise because of the noise she makes with her cane as she walks through the house) requires many different things before she feels ready to leave. Like her bag, her sunglasses, her sweater and sweatshirt (yes, both.....just in case) and all the doors in the house must be closed...and then we need to recheck the doors, and then the cushions have to be brought in from the balcony, and "do we have my sweater? Do we have gas in the car? Where is my bag?" followed by..."are the doors closed? I don't want animals to come in" (she lives on the 3rd floor). But finally we have her loaded into the lift...and we are riding down and walking to the car and she asks me, "Do we have gas for the car? Where is the car? I can't remembur anything anymore" Such a cute sweet French woman.

We head out toward The Trophy. This monument celebrates the victory of the Roman Emperor Augustus over the people of the Alps. He subjugated (killed, enslaved, ruined their lives in general) these tribes between 25 and 14
B.C. In 7-6 B.C., the senate of Rome dedicated this trophy to Him. It is standing at the highest point of the road on the Via Julia which Augustus built to facilitate exchanges with Gaul. So we are about to walk up Roman roads (built by slaves), among the original Roman gardens (planted by slaves) to view something that was built (by slaves) before Christ was born.

Along the walk we come across beautiful views of Monaco and the surrounding areas including Italy in the distance. It was sunny and cool where we were yet ahead there was a quickly gathering storm. It hasn't rained here in France during our entire visit. The cactus in the photo (this is some info on the side) blossoms this huge flower only once every 100 years. Amazing...

We first reach the museum that shows a completed replica of the Trophy as it would have looked before it was dismantled in 1705 and much of the stone used to build the nearby village.

Throughout the room are original pieces found at the site that were used to reconstruct the trophy to its current state. There were once many of these standing as a proclamation of the power and glory of the Romans. Only two survive to this day. The other is in Romania.

It is something poetic to stand among pieces of stone and carvings that were made so long ago. To stand where these long dead and mostly forgotten men once stood.

The first thing that strikes you is the sheer size of this monument. And then you remind yourself that this is a ruin, just a portion of what it looked like when it was complete.

Our handsome gentleman tour guide informed us that the huge columns we see surrounded the entire structure, totaling 24 columns. Very little is known about the structure because the Romans were not very good at keeping records and because there wasn't much love for them coming from the tribes that they enslaved, so all records were destroyed. On the very top of the entire structure was a huge statue of the Emperor Augustus himself, making the height of the entire Trophy at about 50 meters. This structure was simply built to honor the Emperor like a god. The Trophy itself is placed to mark the end (or beginning, depending on how you like to look at things) of the Alps. Augustus was deified and assimilated to Hercules because he opened roads through the Alps. The subjugation of the Alpine tribes was therefore just a pretext to legitimise the hero-worship of the Emperor: the celebration of his exploits highlighted his divine nature. MMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm.....I guess its clear why the locals tore as much of it down as they could. No one wants to be reminded of the 'god' who came through and subjugated you...I'm just stating the facts

But it sure was HUGE!!! Along the side of the Trophy is this massive inscription in marble dedicating it to the Emperor and naming all 45 tribes that he slaughtered to get there in the first place. But the marble was lovely....Italian marble

The structure is made almost entirely of limestone that was dug up (guess who did the digging?) in the nearby quarry and dragged up the mountainside.

After walking all around it, standing next to it and putting my hands where ancient Romans and subjugated tribes (I couldn't help myself) put there hands, we found a staircase and start climbing. Dennis says to me "just think, this was built before Joseph and Mary were even married" And I swear to you, I stopped on the stairs and thought..."Who do we know named Joseph and Mary?" ...... Well, he said it like they were a couple we hang out with. I didn't know he meant THE Joseph and Mary.

So we reach the top, without railings or any safety equipment (as if the monument itself is saying "Go ahead, hurt yourself...mere mortal whom I would easily subjugate if I could just find me some Romans) and this is the view we drink in. The wind was blowing and you could see lightening in the distance. Its quickly obvious that this thing was built to remind everyone that Roman was driving this train. This must have been fearsome to behold.

The more you look, the more amazed you feel. In the left hand edge of the picture above you can see the remains of the quarry used to gather and haul the limestone (carried and gathered by the subjugated tribes, naturally)

It was really hard to pull ourselves away but it had been over an hour since we left The Captain waiting in the car so be began our climb down.

Along the way we edge over to enjoy the views of Monaco and I notice that there is a goat, no..wait.....two goats on the other side of the fence, just hanging. Ahhh...France, with Roman ruins, Monaco in the distance....and.............goats. Of course!

We make it back to the car and then the 15 minutes home...but before we can even arrive we are totally swallowed by the rain storm crawling up the mountain. Fat, bloated rain drops hit us, and cause rivers all along the roads. Everywhere we see scooters pulled over waiting it out but the storm ends up lasting 3 hours. And the wind was fierce and the rain icy. 2 days ago it was 90 degrees in the shade of the balcony.....while now its raining and it has dropped to 63. I love this place. Its crazy!

Of course we had to wrap Denise in two sweaters and a fleece blanket but I was in a tank top, soaking up the cold as I cooked us lunch (more on that later)......

I will say this, its a good thing the Captain had us lock down the castle before we left...the wind and rain was everywhere! Smart lady!

Start the day out right. Strong coffee and a chocolate croissant. Or two.

I have always thought glass blowing to be an amazing thing but I have never actually seen it happening. There is an ancient glass blowing factory in the town of Biot, which happens to be very close by. So we made a day of it, starting with breakfast. Cousin Bernard was our pilot again and off we went, first to watch the magic in Biot. A picturesque medieval village that dates back 2,500 years, situated 4 km from the Mediterranean Sea and nestled between Antibes and Nice, it was only about 30 minutes worth of driving.

We found the little factory with out much trouble and leaving Bernard and Denise

in the shade, we made our way inside.

There was a crowd of people watching several men of various ages, all dressed in shorts and sandals, working with long, hollow rods each with a molten piece of glass on the end. It made me wonder

where their work safety poster was hanging. Maybe in the lunch room? Without much fuss or fanfare, you could watch these men heat up and shape their glass into all sorts of different pieces. There was no fuss and little conversation but after a few

moments you become entranced by the dance they

perform. Afterwards, you can walk through the gallery and admire beautiful works of glass art from around the world. And each piece has a price tag, just in case you want to take some artwork home.

Back into the car, we are quickly off again. This time bound for a candy factory sitting along a river that bubbles under the remains of an ancient bridge that was destroyed by German invaders. All that's left to testify are the huge stone supports.

We had lunch in a restaurant a few steps from the candy factory. It would seem that the more you are willing to eat and drink, the more popular you become here. So I am thinking I may as well run for Mayor next week. After eating huge salads, drinking beer, wine and coffee and enjoying the local ice cream we made our way over to watch some candy being made and sampled their famous rose jelly. I was forced to buy some dark chocolate too.

The candy tour was fun. Although I had to wrap my mind around the fact that there are no screens on the factory windows and the workers don't wear gloves..of any kind..... Dennis says I need to live outside my American box, so I am rolling with it. No easy task for me, especially when we had to drive around for 30 minutes looking for a handicap friendly bathroom for my mother-in-law because the glass factory and the candy factory bathrooms were up 18 flights of stairs. Ok, only 2 flights, but the woman is 94 and in a wheelchair. Dennis says that change comes slow here and the people are accustomed to being uncomfortable. I can see that now. I guess I want to stay un-accustomed to that.

Off we go again, headed into more mountain passes. Suddenly Bernard stops the car and tells us to walk back to the "Cascade" because it is "varry beautiful and famous".

I don't stop to question but grab my camera and run to where he pointed. We were almost pushed off the tiny road by oncoming cars including a huge flatbed that became stuck going through the tunnel and almost caused a 3 car pile-up but the waterfall we found was worth certain death. Breathtaking. Of course, I learn a few minutes later, when we have literally run for safety back in the car, that for a single Euro you can walk on stone pathways carved along the waterfall...but who needs the easy way? Not us! Anyway, the life risking pictures look better in my opinion. We did decide to splurge and pay the Euro so we could view it from above.

Onward and upward, Bernard takes us to another medieval village, this one high on the mountain edge giving

you breathtaking panoramic views.

The Chateau

Gourdon awaited us with tiny shops selling all sorts of candy and cakes, soaps and perfumes. Another shop sold glass jewelry and another oil paintings of the local beauties. Several restaurants tempted us but we were too full from the salad and all that came with it earlier. Everywhere you look you drink in the spectacular scenery.

With so much to feast your eye on you start to feel full. Your eyes become overwhelmed by seeing so many things in one place.

This is the view from the Chateau and of the village from below.

At this point my camera battery dies :( We started heading down to the coast again and soon we are in Cannes, driving through the downtown area, right where to film festival is held every year. The buildings are a mix of modern and ancient with many famous hotels facing the ocean. We continue on through Nice, then Monaco and finally we are home again. All totaled we spend 12 hours enjoying the changing scene outside the windows of our borrowed car. The air was breezy and cool, especially in the mountains. But then a few minutes later you are by the sea and you can feel the warm sun on your skin. It felt good to be full. Full of the food and drink and full of the scenery.

Thank you cousin Bernard~

"And if the darkness is to keep us apart, and if the daylight feels like it's a long way off, and if your glass heart should crack and for a second you turn back...oh no, be strong..walk on"

I took myself out of the house this afternoon for a walk to clear my head. My feet found their way to the local olive tree garden just steps away from our apartment. Peaceful and quiet with the scent of wild flowers and the olive trees themselves, it felt like the right place for me to think and be alone. Most of the trees in this garden are well over 500 years old. As I sat there feeling overwhelmed with my sorrows I thought of all that those trees have seen. The joys and the sorrows. How many people have come and sat under their leaves and breathed in their scent and found comfort, just like me? How many have walked here and sat and just let their tears flow without restraint until there were no tears left. Imagine the stories these trees could tell me if only they knew how. If only I knew how to listen. Imagine the secrets that they are guardians of.

Maybe they were speaking to me...maybe their silent sympathy was the comfort I needed. I walked among them until I came across a patch of rose bushes and I stopped to smell each different one. Then I wandered to a batch of sunlight by a very large olive tree. There I found a bench that I laid across and looked up through the leafy arms of the old olive tree to the blue sky with its scattered clouds. I watched the clouds dance past and let my mind think upon things I have been too scared to think about for the past 24 hours. Memories I was afraid to remember, certain that just the mental pictures of my dear friend and all she did for me would crush my glass heart completely. Somehow though, I found the comfort I was seeking and for a few moments the clarity I needed. We are such small pieces of a picture too large for each of us to begin to understand. Laying there among my new friends, breathing in the clean perfumed air I felt less alone in my pain. Miles and miles away from the ones I love, being unable to help them and forced to simply wait to hear, I found a measure of peace in the olive tree garden.

"Who's to say where the wind will take you, who's to say what it is will break you. I don't know which way the wind will blow.......I know that this is not goodbye"