and then the little vegetable stand (which I didn't get picture of).
Next it was time for laundry. My apartment has a washing machine, which is awesome (although European machines seem to take two hours to finish the cycle...weird). Then it was time to hang everything out to dry, preferably without dropping it three stories down to the rue de Voilu:
(concentrating)...
...and success:
Then a little lunch of salad with lovely tomatoes and fresh mozzarella:
...and off to the beach, where I spent the entire afternoon. I was hoping to work on my base tan (okay, my base burn-and-freckle), but it was so damn hot that I huddled under my little beach umbrella pretty much the whole time, except when swimming. I don't know how those people do it -- there were tons of people just roasting in the sun, without any shelter at all. Most of them were a dark bronze, indicating a long-term relationship with things like tropical beaches, but even some of the really pale specimens were just sprawled-out like it wasn't a bazillion degrees. I don't know how they do it.
After the beach it was time for dinner
(nothing like boiling up a big pot of water for pasta when it's a zillion degrees and you don't have air conditioning), followed by cello practice and a generally mellow evening at the homestead. Discovered a really cool light in the apartment:
On day six, my last full day in town, it was time for some exploring. Step one: breakfast of salad with poached egg (which blogger seems to want to present to you in portrait form, even though landscape is the artist's intention):
Then a visit to the Chapel St. Pierre whose exterior I photographed on my first day here, but I had not yet ventured inside. It's a 14th-century chapel that was decorated by Jean Cocteau in 1957, and it's way-cool:
After a few minutes of gawking, the kind woman at the door did a little talk about the chapel, although she mostly spoke in French, so I only caught bits and pieces. Plus I was kinda distracted because she looked strikingly similar to Jim's Aunt Georgianne. Anyway, the chapel was definitely a special thing, and I was glad I had a chance to venture inside.
Got a snap of my favorite little grocery store on my walk back up the hill to my pad (note the rotisserie out front -- home of delicious roasted chicken):
.Then it was time for a road trip to a couple towns in the mountains. First, a little traffic, in Villefranche:
and near Monaco (well, it was pretty bad traffic until I got to this stop light -- doesn't look like much here):
Then it was time for a dozen or so hairpin turns, up the side of a mountain to the Grande Corniche and to a town called La Turbie. First stop, lunch at the Cafe de la Fontaine, which was well-reviewed in my Lonely Planet guide. Delicious first course of artichoke hearts with prosciutto and greens:
next course, duck with poached pear, sinfully buttery potato puree, and cheezy zucchini:
While I was savoring my incredible duck, I noticed the table next to me getting dessert. Oh my god...gotta have the chocolate tart, I said to myself. If French women don't get fat, maybe American women visiting France don't get fat either, I said to myself. No, I shouldn't. No, I mustn't. Yes, I will. When the kind waiter came by and asked if I wanted dessert, "tarte au chocolate" came out of mouth before I even knew what was happening. Oh, man it was so good:
The tart was densely chocolate yet light in texture, surrounded by delightful dabs of whipped cream, some sort of gelato (looked like coconut but wasn't -- just tasted "white" and vanilla-like...not sure exactly what flavor it was), and a sort of coffee mousse. It was pretty much dessert heaven.
Then coffee and the bill (they brought it without my even having to ask...I guess I had already eaten everything possible, so they knew it was time). The bill was the least-expensive I had seen since arriving in France. Wow -- biggest, most delicious meal, and the least-expensive bill. This place rules.
Then it was time for a stroll, in hopes of regaining my digestive composure (I'll admit there was belching for a good hour post-dejeuner). Strolled around La Turbie:
(note Roman ruins in the background...close-ups coming soon).
House of Barb's Extreme Gluttony:
View of Monaco from the little park, waiting to enter the Trophee des Alps:
And then into the park that houses the Trophee des Alps, or the Trophy of Augustus
"The Roman Senate ordered its construction in 5BC in honour of the emperor Augustus to commemorate the conquest of the Alps and the submission of 44 Ligurian tribes during Augustus' campaigns in 25, 16 and 15 BC. Their submission joined Gaul to Italy. The inscription on the side of the monument, shown below, is said to be the first page of French history. "
Wow, that's old. And beautiful. And with stunning views. And a great thing to walk around and climb up while digesting my lunch!
view of Cap Ferrat from up there (every time I see that cape I'm so proud of myself for walking all the way around it):
and view to the East from atop the trophy
and the little museum, which had a scale replica of the full monument, plus lots of bits and pieces from the site:
Next I hit the road for another town, way further into the mountains. Took me awhile to find the correct roads (the D2204 to the D15 to the D815 to the D19), and involved exponentially more hairpin turns. Here's a screenshot of the actual google map with satellite of a piece of the D815:
Just as I thought I couldn't handle another hairpin and that I must be lost and that whatever the hell was up there couldn't be worth all this twisting and turning, I came upon my intended destination, the town of Tourrette-Levens. Well, it turned out to be worth it -- such a picturesque town, with lots of lovely fountains and little landscaped gardens and modern sculptures here and there, and at the top of the hill an old chateau with museums. The first museum was, well, about making stuff (I don't remember exactly what it was called, but it had all these displays with historical kitchen stuff and shoe-making stuff, and blacksmith stuff and cobbler stuff, and then a contemporary art exhibit upstairs for no discernible reason, and it was really cool...and it was free):
shoe-making stuff:
cool old wrenches:
Then up a little further along the centuries-old cobblestone way:
to the museum of natural history, best-known for its butterfly collection. There was literally no one there -- not a soul. The place was clearly open, with a sign saying that it was free and that it was open until seven o'clock, so I went in and looked about. Some of the rooms had the lights off, but I just switched them on and checked everything out. Two rooms of butterflies:
(close-up of the best blue ones):
(close-up of the best blue ones):
and a room full of beetles:
and on the top floor the requisite creepies:
and crawlies:
(funny how when you're looking at stuff like this you have an undeniable sensation that bugs are crawling all over you).
Then a look at the "natural history" stuff, which was mostly a small room of fossils. I really liked the mastodon tooth, but I didn't get a kodak.
Then a look around the grounds. Still not a soul around -- I was sure I had walked into some 12th century "land of the lost", and at any moment some ancient castle-dweller was going to abduct me. But no, just a quiet and lovely stroll around:
view towards Nice and the sea:
the side of the chateau:
pretty courtyard with big-cat statue:
ruins and fig tree growing inside the ruins:
By then it was after six, and I was ready to call it a hellofa day. Drove back the D19 to the A8 (fewer hairpins on this route, thank goodness) and on to Villefranche. Spent the evening playing cello and relaxing, with digestion of sinful meal ongoing.
And I bid you goodnight. Off to Provence tomorrow!
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