Provence: The Real Day One

Apt Market
Saturday, April 10

I say 'The Real Day One' because a day in the car hardly counts on a week-long jaunt through Provence, France. Anything worth mentioning (like the glorious gas station sandwiches) was covered in that night's quick visit to the blog from our tiny hotel room.  The next morning in Apt was where the trip really began.

A ten minute walk and we were in the heart of Apt.  The market stands filled all available squares and even a couple parking lots, lining the streets with everything from clothing and tablecloths to cured meats, cheese and bread.  This area of France is known for its expansive lavender fields, and though we were a bit too early for the season, the lavender was abundant from the shops to the market stands, along with spices and herbs prevalent in the region.

We decided that on this trip we would make more of an effort to eat fresh and light during the day, buying from markets and enjoying more of the basics.  This day we bought a few types of salami to try, some fabulous Comte cheese, strawberries, and a simple baguette from the market for lunch, or rather, what would become a few lunches.  Throw on a little Dijon mustard and we had ourselves a wonderful little lunch in a lovely park to one side of  a patch of market stands.

Before we found our spot for lunch we had to walk past a group of guys, and I found myself behaving as if they were a bunch of hooligans who might, at any moment, mug me and spit in my face.  Then I remembered that just because a group of young people happen to be hanging out with saggy pants and rambunctious laughter doesn't automatically mean trouble, and I felt OLD for having felt overly cautious of them.  Also, it's France, not the States.  Somehow, there's a difference.  Sharing park space with these boisterous boys got us a couple nods and otherwise, a nice lunch.

Which is something we found everywhere on this trip, that being friendliness.  I'm not sure if it's a North versus South kind of thing, a theory about which I read in a book given to me by an old family friend prior to moving overseas, or city versus small town, but everyone we encountered was friendly and helpful, language barrier aside.  It was refreshing.



Moustiers-Sainte-Marie

After a deeply satisfying lunch break, we headed to our next stop in an even smaller town, Moustiers-Saint-Marie, built up into the side of a rocky piece of gorgeous.  This town is known for its chapel, Notre-Dame de Beauvoir, which rests high above the town and directly below a golden star from the time of the Crusades that hangs highest of all.

We walked the narrow streets of this charming village, snapping pictures of the view its height offered and enjoying every minute of sun we felt lucky to have.  (We heard it was raining at home.)  I'm usually a sucker for pottery when we travel, so I'm quite sure Chris was happy that I wasn't feeling the local pottery, as shops specializing in the stuff were more common than cafes.  As much of this trip would be, it was a day of walking and climbing, enjoying the weather and the scenery.  And though we speak nearly no French at all, we've become rather skilled at the arts of pantomime and nonverbal communication, and had no real trouble getting across our questions, requests and thank yous.

Need some random?  Feeling compelled to cuddle every dog we saw, and there were many, I missed Heidi, even going so far as to show some strange man her picture on my phone.  I know I'm a geek.

For dinner our first real meal out we ended up at what a couple of British tourists told us Trip Advisor said was the best restaurant in town, Cote Jardin.  A delicious plate of escargot served in a creamy garlic sauce over sliced potatoes, goat cheese cannelloni and a bottle of wine later, we both agreed, without a doubt.

Speaking of calories, since I was not traveling with a pocket-sized gym, the pedometer was my way of keeping track of what kind of activity I was getting in for the week away, and I remembered it most days.

Day One:
Apt Market
9,491 steps
2,573 of those, aerobic

Walking about Moustiers-Sainte-Marie
5,728 steps
forgot to calculate aerobic, but we walked FEW level steps, not including the climb to Notre-Dame

So 15,249 on day one.  Not bad.  Though being that I'm writing this a week after the day I've just described and after this whole trip, I'm a little nervous to say good morning to the scale tomorrow...but even if I gained a couple from this trip, it was worth every delectable bite of cheese and every buttery croissant!

Day 1 Provence: The drive

We've finally arrived to our hotel in Apt after slowdown after slowdown. As you might have guessed, there is Internet so here I am. Short and sweet is what tonight's will be, and since I'm typing with one finger on my iPod (no laptop after all), I'm making the decision right now to abandon acceptable writing practices and give it to you in fragments. Long drive made longer by loads of traffic. French drivers confuse me. Will move courteously if you're approaching from behind, but will also cut you off and flash and honk and attempt to park in your trunk with their semi, even if you've got nowhere to go. A wonderful discovery-gas station food rocks. Sandwiches put American ones to shame, even our old road trip favorite, egg salad. Quiche and crepes to go. Beautiful. Awesomely cheap hotel is awesomely dormesque, the only thing not two steps from the bed is the toilet, which is tucked away in a plastic closet. Shower door is two feet from my side of the bed. Could've picked up that hitchhiker, since the bed is of the bunk persuasion, and resting crossways over the lower double bed is a single one. Next time. Must also say, after a long day in the car stuck in one traffic jam after another, thank goodness for BBC World and their English speaking ways. Early wake up for the market tomorrow - au revoir.

Day 12: So far...

So today marks the 12th consecutive day of blogging, and I have to admit, I wasn't sure it was possible.  I mean I know it's possible, but for me?  This tiny accomplishment marks a larger one for me because daily writing was never something at which I excelled.  I almost feel guilty for the interim that will settle in after tomorrow, for although I'll probably bring my laptop along on our trip, I cannot and will not commit to daily writing whilst soaking up French wine and indulging in ludicrous amounts of cheese, bread, and beauty.  My creative energy will be focused on capturing the week with my camera instead of my computer.

But not to worry; I'm quite certain this trip will be a heavy influence on this blog upon our return.

I should also note that I will be missing the next Writers in Stuttgart meeting, as we'll be somewhere en route that day.  For my fellow Stuttgart writers, I was there LAST Saturday, having either totally missed or forgotten that Claire's session had been moved to a later date, so I'd like the credit for showing up, please.  (It's very possible, probable even, that this was discussed during the first hour and a half of last month's meeting, while I was riding trains and buses and aching shins on my way downtown.)  Regardless, I'm bummed to miss the meeting.  Someone tell someone I stuck to at least my first two goals for the year, the blog and the telling about the blog, please?

Ah, goals.  Which makes me think about a lady named Gretchen Rubin, which makes me want to start writing about that whole thing, but I'm going to have to save that for another time, as my time is limited at the moment.  But I must give her partial credit to the current success of my reaching, or at least responsibly handling my goals, along with the Writers and some pushy, aka, supportive friends.  Thank you, thank you, I'd be a mess of a writer not writing without you.

Now I just need to learn to multi-task so I can work toward goals in different areas of my life at once.  In a week and change.  Till then.

Day 11: Lists

Today's To-Do List:
- gym before work
- work
- call auto shop and set appointment for pre-trip oil change
- buy oil for oil change
- get oil change
- grocery stop  (we'll make do with what's in the house)
- drop off check at insurance office
- call dog sitter to arrange drop off and okay new date
- read 150 pages of book so it's possible to hand off Thursday
- today's blog

no time for proper capitalization for this girl.

and of course the regular daily stuff like attempting to tidy so coming home isn't so stressful, making and consuming dinner, pre-packing tomorrow's gym bag (with tomorrow's work clothes and toiletries) and squishing in a little time to relax before bed, and tomorrow.

Tomorrow's To-Do List:
- gym before work
- work
- laundry
- pack
- charge batteries for cameras, navi, ipods and laptops
- pack cameras, navi, ipods, laptops and appropriate cordage
- read last 150 pages of book to hand over next day
- Wednesday's blog
- SLEEP

a side note:  we can now add half-eaten mouse carcass to heidi's repertoire of preferred snacks.  if she can't feast upon what exits the rears of neighborhood cats, she'll take what falls out of their mouths.  delicious.  her latest choices have included snow and duraflame fireplace log.  i think her inner goat is tired of hiding.

Thursday's To-Dos:
- can't even think that far ahead

now i have to go and this will have to suffice for today.  it's time to cook and eat dinner, finish reading tonight's allotment of pages, and so on and so forth.

till tomorrow.

Day 10: Berlin and The Wall

Our first trip to Berlin was in the spring of 2008.  We took the tours and walked the streets; we photographed remnants of recent history and read stories of those who tried to escape East Berlin, and those who succeeded.  Our walking tour guide pointed out the famous balcony from which Michael Jackson dangled his baby years back, and the very spot where they say Hitler and Ava Brown's bodies were burned after their suicides.  You wouldn't expect anything interesting had ever happened on this particular stretch of sidewalk, but you can lock your bike up where the Fuhrer quickly became ash.


My favorite day was the day we walked along the East Side Gallery, the largest open air memorial for freedom in the world.  The first time we were there the paintings sprawling over what would have been otherwise ugly concrete once separating loved ones, were weathered and chipping.  Although the graffiti across some pieces added to the sense of unity you felt looking over the artwork, for most of the added messages were those of peace, one love, one world, we wondered what they might have looked like when first created back right after the fall of The Wall in 1989.

The name of this picture is "One Love."







Last year on Nov. 9, 2009, Berlin celebrated the 20th Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, and we were there for the celebration.  Schools, artists, and many others from around the world contributed to a display of giant dominoes, painted with messages of unity and freedom, that were lined up along one stretch of the original Wall's path.  Even my old high school got into the mix, we discovered our first night in town walking the path of the dominoes while the stage was still being set for the big celebration.  After a mixed concert of music from Berlin's State Opera to Jon Bon Jovi, speeches from the German Chancellor Angela Merkel, British Prime Minister Gordon Brown, French President Sarkozy, and US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, to name a few, former Polish President Lech Walesa and ex-Hungarian Prime Minister Miklos Nemeth had the honor of making the first push.  The toppling of these large dominoes was meant to symbolize the falling Communist governments of Eastern Europe, and the cheering when they fell was deafening.  Ex-Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev even made an appearance, and the German Chancellor praised him publicly for his role in the change that occurred in Berlin that changed the world.  The party was huge and it rained all night, but we had an amazing time.  Between the fireworks that lit the rainy sky, and the hot gluhwein that warmed our hands and throats in the freezing rain, it was a memorable evening, to say the least.  Standing outside the Brandenburg Gate and watching the dominoes fall, surrounded by emotion and a lot of people, we felt like we got to be a part of something.  We felt the power and the pride that swelled from the people and burst into the sky.

When we revisited The East Side Gallery, we were astonished at the work so many of the original artists had done restoring their old masterpieces.  Funded and organized by the German Paint Maker's Association, 42 paintings were restored to their former glory, and the Gallery seemed somehow more alive for the fresh paint.







We snapped lots more pictures and took our time, feeling lucky to have seen these walls renewed, the sense of unity they represent by standing as a memorial freshened for future visitors to this amazing city.

Getting to travel to places of significance when it comes to growth in the world is a truly awesome privilege for which we are grateful.  Walking where others once walked, whether it was to death or to freedom, it's difficult not to feel the ghosts of a place.  Would they be proud?  Have we come far enough to honor their plight?

Will the people of the world continue to knock down the walls that still linger between neighbors and within homes?

Very much, I hope so.

Day 9: My Deutsch Family

We were the only ones without kids today, so I tried to get Chris to take a basket into the garden to hunt for eggs, too, but he wasn't into it.  There were 14 adults, 4 middle school kids, 6 preschoolers, and 2 babies.  There was plenty of beer and plenty of wine, and the appetizer table boasted stuffed mushrooms, spinach dip (with chips AND veggies), deviled eggs, and cucumbers with cream cheese and salmon.  We ate leg of lamb, stewed lamb, ham, potatoes, pasta salad, mixed berries, rolls, and Polish Popsicles for the big Easter meal, chased by homemade fudge, Nutella cheesecake, chocolate and peanut butter nest cookies, and a gorgeous berry trifle.  Do you feel fat after reading all that?  I said I wouldn't overdo it today, that I'd try a small taste of everything and then be proud of myself for not stuffing it in, but a taste of everything added up to a bulging belly by the end.  (I feel stuffed all over again recounting it now.)  It was busy and noisy, between the music and multiple conversations carrying on at once, and hard at times to get from room to room, but such are holiday get-togethers, and I love it.  It reminds me of family, which reminds me of home, and both of those things warm my chest because I'm lucky enough to have them wherever I am.

When Chris and I first moved to Europe from the United States we hadn't a clue what to expect, neither from living in a place as foreigners, nor from this semi-nomadic lifestyle.  Having grown up in one place, only leaving my childhood home when I married Chris and moved away, moving after just 5 years seems nomadic to me.  I have to say that the first year was very difficult for me, personally, as I always relied heavily on close friendships and family, neither of which I had for a while in Pisa.  Thank goodness for Heidi - she saved me from a deeper loneliness.  I mean look at this face.

Eventually I managed to meet a handful of people with whom I felt immediately comfortable, and since then, as the turnover of people around us is rather quick, have learned a lot about the different kinds and levels of friendship.  Before this life, I had a few very close friends to whom I devoted myself, but had no use for light acquaintances.  Again, efficiency.  If you're going to make a friend, make a real, true friend and commit all the way.  Then I learned a painful lesson about that, and the way I viewed friendship, as a whole, changed.  Now I feel I've grown with the flow of my life and I've come to appreciate friendship on many other levels, understanding more how regardless of how long we live near one another, or how deep our connection falls, it's the moments you share with the people around you that have the power to show you something about life, and therefor, something about yourself.  Every relationship holds a host of learning opportunities, through the joy and pain of it, alike, and I'm glad I can finally appreciate that, and not fall apart every time I have to hug a friend goodbye.

Which brings me back to this place, right now.  Even if I'm feeling particularly awkward or not especially social, as sometimes is the case, it's lovely to be surrounded by people who notice when I've not spoken for a while.  Living very far from family and the chaos of get-togethers in Florida, I revel in it here.  A house full of people and noise, children running underfoot, sweet puppy dogs begging for a little love, and stories and laughter overwhelm me with feelings of family, and I'm thankful.  Family is the friend you can call anytime if you're in need, the person who will tell you the truth then hug you if you cry over it, and the people who think of you when it's time to celebrate.  Although I miss my Florida family very much, and get a little down when I know what I'm missing there, my German one is doing a pretty good job here.  I'm grateful for that.  Something else I have to be grateful for, the fact that I didn't chicken out 6 years ago and went ahead and married my best friend.  Together, we are home, which is convenient since we've probably got some more moving to do this life.

Happy Easter, if you celebrate it.  Happy Sunday, if you don't.  Either way, go hug a friend :)

Day 8: Ten Years

I didn't make it to my ten year high school reunion this past summer.  Although I actually was in the country visiting, I was on the road between states the day of.  I couldn't decide at the time whether or not I was disappointed.  On one hand, it would have been interesting to see the faces of old friends and chat about the old days at St. Pete High; but on the other, social networking makes those same faces fairly accessible, assuming they've put themselves out to be found, and most people I cared to reconnect with, I had.  But thinking about that stretch of time, of course, brings about lots of old feelings and questions.  Curiosity.  

I wrote this to a boy I used to know.

Hey there.

Ten years – holy crap.  As the decade marker rolls around to invite us all back to revisit the halls we used to know so well, faces from way back when push to the forefront of my mind.  Did the hottest guys all turn out to be gay?  Did the reign of the popular come to a disappointing halt after graduation, or did reality do some humbling?  Did the quiet ones go on to conquer the world?  And what about old friends?  Who kept in touch and who drifted?  Who became exactly what they wanted to be and who disappeared?  And then there’s you – I wonder what became of the boy I loved for a while, the boy who was so many firsts for me.  Infatuation.  Love.  Sex.  Heartbreak.  Kind of sounds like an album.  It’s amazing to me now how my small life then was so affected by only a few months, but it was, and what can you do.  It’s nice to be so far from that old pain, nice that wounds have since scarred over and become nothing but reminders of a past life.  Ten years later, and it feels like the impending reunion that I will miss gives me license to wonder about you without attaching to that curiosity embarrassment for having it.

How are you these days?  Who are you, for that matter?  What have you seen?  What have you done?  How have you changed?  Are you happy or still looking for something?  Did you ever feel sorry for how things fell to pitiful pieces when we knew each other?  Do you ever think of all the things we never said?

I’ve found that I do feel sorry not so much that it ended, but how it did, because it would have been nice to remain in one another’s lives if only to laugh about how stupid we once were.  I envy people who can think of their first love with only fondness because I don’t feel I’m allowed.  Too many things left unexplained, unclarified, unforgiven, and that’s sad, because we could have gotten so much more out of each other.