Beach Birthday Celebrations

 Last week, my friend Sue had her first French birthday. This fell right before her first French wedding anniversary and her official Franciversary, the day she moved to France. 

We all wanted to celebrate so we took a day at the beach. 

The beach reminded me of my days in Corsica.

Our friends have a puppy, so we had to look for a beach where dogs were allowed. We ended up going to La Franqui and walking to a part of the beach where there weren't any "No Dog" signs. 

But first, we had lunch along the waterfront. 

A lake, or etang, stretched inland between the sand and the sea

Although it looks beautiful and had lots of birds in it, it was a little stinky.

Sue and I toasting her birthday. I had sangria. 

Earl and Steve in matching blues

After lunch, we began the long walk out across the sand. But the sand was soft and not too hot. We took the dog off the leash and he ran like a crazy hound into the etang trying to scare off the seagulls. We kept walking farther and farther down the beach trying to avoid the "No dog" signs. Finally, I suggested we just play dumb if anyone approached us about the dog. There were other dogs, so we set up our beach blanket and the dog rolled on it immediately, sprinkling it with sand.

The pup in the foreground. Earl striding into the Mediterranean

This was a pretty perfect beach. The sand was soft. The entrance into the Med was not precipitously steep as it had been at some beaches. We could walk a long way out without it getting too deep, as a matter of fact, a sandbar allowed us to stand in knee-deep water and let the waves break around us. 

Paddling around in the sea when it's a gorgeous blue is glorious. 

Afterward, we tried to rest on the beach, but the dog had other plans. 

He immediately began digging, covering our blanket with sand. We tried shaking it out a few times but he went right back to digging. 

Earl spread a towel away from the blanket to see if the dog was after us specifically or just the blanket. At one point, the pup was just pummeling me with sand and I had to go back in the sea to rinse off all the sand. I still found a bunch caked around my ears in the shower that night. 

Sue and Steve thought it was hilarious, until the dog turned his digging super powers on them. 

Digging to Australia.

Ice cream on the boardwalk

After rinsing off, we headed back to the boardwalk for beers and ice cream. Mine was a Mama Mia with salted caramel ice cream and sauce. The addition of the Haribo candies did nothing for me. 

This was a terrific beach and we'll definitely visit again. As September stretches in front of us, we know our beach adventures are coming to an end soon. 

In Search of the Sun

The weather forecast called for rain in our hometown in Quillan France. Since I just recently added a second day off each week, I couldn’t stand the idea of sitting at home watching the rain fall. 

Instead, I searched the weather app and saw that the rain was avoiding the area east of us. We planned to visit the city Narbonne and a vineyard nearby, along with our friend Derrick.

The Cathedral St. Just et Saint Pasteur

Inside the Cathedral, a beam of light from a stained-glass window illuminated me.
I did not ascend or have any visions, however. Perhaps it was just International Women's Day. 

The church had some amazing gargoyles. Many of them weren't in the sun so didn't photograph well. 

Narbonne has a canal running through it and a number of restaurants were open for "to-go" food. We ordered and carried our food to a wall along the canal. A number of young people were eating their lunch along the canal too. It was nice to have a meal out because the restaurants in France have been closed since October 30th. 

A cool bridge with houses on it in the background. 

After Narbonne, we went on a bit of a wild goose chase to find a winery that we have enjoyed some bottles of red from. Gerard Bertrand. The winery has a red called Tautavel, which is a town south of here, and we went to do some tasting. 

This golden orange wine is new for them. It can replace a rosé, but didn't
impress me too much. I'm not much of a  rosé fan. 

We did a degustation, a wine tasting. The young man who was in charge of it was from Belfast, Ireland, but had majored in French in college. We tasted seven wines as he explained each one. Pinot noir, syrah, grenache. We bought four bottles, but agreed that the Tautavel wine we have found in grocery stores for 5 or 6 euros, which isn't available at the winery, was actually better. Luckily, my friend Derrick purchased a case of those yesterday and he was willing to share. 

Afterward, we headed to the beach -- Narbonne Plage. 

The wind and curly hair, say no more. 

The sun shone on us for awhile

We bought some crepes from a stand, and unfortunately, when I went to sit on the wall at the beach, mine flew into the sand. I didn't need a crepe anyway. 

Earl with his coffee and crepe that did not blow away. Crème de marron - chestnut, ick. 

What a lovely day out exploring France. 

Mid-Winter Outings

The groundhog may have seen his shadow on February 2nd, but spring is fast erupting here in the South of France. 

Some things haven't changed much. Restaurants and bars remain closed. We have a 6 p.m. curfew every night, which means we can't gather with friends in the evenings. (Yes, this is what it is meant to do.)

The vaccine is being given out at a very slow rate in France, which is a bit disheartening. 

Still, we find ways to occupy our time. 

My time is complicated because I work most days from 11-2, taking only Wednesday off work. But when I have the day off, we try to have an adventure.

This Wednesday, thanks to friends who recommended it, Earl and I traveled with Jack and Jules to Roquefort les Cascades. That's roquefort like the cheese, but not a cheese in sight. Instead, the end of the name "cascade," which means waterfall, is what we went for. 

Our friends Jim and Theresa had been earlier that week and said the waterfalls we're at peek from the melting snow. 

Several cascading jets of water made their way from the top of the hills

Each rise we climbed showed us more waterfalls.
 If the temperature had been warmer, I might have suspected a tropical paradise. 

My perpetually crooked sunglasses on top of my head as we attempted to pose in front of a waterfall. 

There's a short video of a waterfall at the bottom of this post. I couldn't get it to move up 

A week ago Sunday before, I had seen a sign advertising a honey festival. I grew up with a honey festival and continue to dream about the deliciousness of honey ice cream. I wasn't expecting that, but still decided it was worth a trip. The day was gorgeous and our friends Sue and Steve agreed to join us. 

The honey festival was in Tautavel, famous for an ancient skull discovered there proving that human ancestors lived in the area 550,000-400,000 years ago. 

The sunshine convinced us to show Sue and Steve the gorge near Tautavel. 

 The honey festival couldn't hold a candle to Lebanon's honey festival that I remember as a child, but we enjoyed looking at some bee basics. Earl and I bought a jar of honey to support the local beekeepers, along with a loaf of fig bread. Everyone who bought honey got a free sprig of mimosa. 

The mimosa blossoms were gorgeous.
Too bad I learned they can be toxic to cats so had to throw it out. 

The Wednesday before that, we had to travel to the "big city" of Perpignan to pick out new tiles for the half bath on our first floor. Since we were in Perpignan, we decided to take a trip to the beach, the Mediterranean. 

Glorious sunshine. The sand was soft, no wind blowing. But the water was cold. 

Jim came prepared, as always, wearing shorts.
Earl just walked in with his pants rolled up and they quickly unrolled. 

We didn't stay on the beach long, but it was nice to remember that warm weather and more outings will come our way as winter turns to spring. 

Theresa and I didn't spend much time in the water. 

On another Sunday morning, we went to the market in Esperaza with Jack and Jules. 

The market is in full swing, including little cups of take away coffee. 

So we'll consider having outings with our friends and exploring this beautiful country we live in. 

Here's a video of the waterfalls at Roquefort les Cascades

Regrets and a Long November Ahead

Now I wish I’d gone into the sea. 

The sea was so still yesterday

And Earl was right, I should have taken my water shoes. 

And I wonder if, instead of rushing to the grocery to fill my larder for the coming lockdown this morning, I shouldn’t instead get in the car and drive back to the sea and fling myself in. An October baptism against the November loneliness of lockdown. 

France is going back to confinement - no travel, restaurants and bars closed, one-hour a day for exercise. And papers, don’t forget the papers that say why you have left home during a pandemic. 

I get it. 

But a panic sets in that maybe I don’t remember how to do this. Last time, Grace and Jack were here. We played cards and mah-jong and talked to neighbors as they walked past with their dogs. 

Before we knew that the lockdown was returning, on Wednesday, we had an impromptu girls’ trip to Collioure, a charmant village along the Mediterranean with a strange obsession for the church tower along the coast.

A view of the church and the crescent beach

We decided to eat lunch first and found a place in the sun. It became almost too hot as the sun shone onto us, me with my Aperol Spritz and Tina, Jo and Melissa with their rose wine. 

My empty drink as we came to desert and our goofy poses for the cameras

Lots of laughter

Around us, the world seemed normal, except for the masks that covered everyone's faces. 

After we ate, we walked around the cute shops and oohed and aahed at the quaint streets.

The stairs and plants and colorful painting "The gate of solace."

Then we drove to a more secluded beach. The plan was to swim and then to practice belly dancing on the beach. 

The sun had disappeared behind big flat clouds and a breeze blew. I wore a sweater over my dress. 

Melissa changed right into her "swim costume." That's what the Brits call it. I said I would wander down to feel the water first. 

Tina made it clear she would hold down the towels on the beach, not even considering a swim. 

Melissa had brought swim shoes and I had brushed off Earl's suggestions. The beach was much sandier and smoother than Nice, but close to the water there were more stones. I let my feet sink while Melissa plunged right into the water.

After a few minutes, as the cold water swarmed around my ankles and the clouds hung low over the sky, I decided that I wouldn't swim. I went back to the towel and plopped down. Jo said she would join Melissa, so she changed and headed down to the water. The shrieks she emitted as she walked into the water, made it clear that the water was cold!!!

Two brave souls

Tina and I stayed on the sand, but we enjoyed watching them swim. 

Tina and I on the beach, my bangs shrinking upward already in the moist air

After Jo and Melissa dried off, we did some belly dancing on the beach. It was our promise to ourselves that we would practice since we didn't have belly dancing class on Wednesday. 

Melissa teaches, and she brought along "jingly belts" and scarves. 

The scarves are swoopy in the wind. 

These three with the Sea in the background. What fun we had, even if we scared off many people on the beach. 

Belly dancing with the curve of the Mediterranean behind them. 

  

We drove home as the sun set and a black cloud hovered above the mountains as we made our way toward them. 

It wasn't until later that night, after we got home, that Macron announced a confinement for all of France that begins at 12:01 a.m. Friday and lasts until December.  

We got a last trip in just under the deadline. 

So, I should have gone for a swim, but maybe in December. 

But still dreaming of the smooth sea

So Many Towns to Love

It's an embarrassment of riches for us as we travel from beautiful town to beautiful town. How will we possibly choose?
Today, we traveled to Beziers. I didn't expect to like it. It's a bit bigger than a city I planned on moving to, but holy mackerel, I fell for it.
We parked in a parking garage and when we emerged into the town square, really more like a swatch of park that runs the length of most of the downtown, it was filled with veterans and town dignitaries all walking behind a military band. We followed along for awhile.

Meandering through the town filled with traditional French architecture, we took pictures of roof tops before stopping along the parkway for a coffee.

Earl noted that it's a good town to grow old in because in addition to park benches along the way, it had some glider swings at the coffee shop.
The town has a Galeries Lafayette, which is a French department store, and right next door a Casino grocery store. We grabbed some fruit and some chocolate for dinner since Monday is a holiday and we didn't want to be caught without food.  
We went in search of the cathedral which is made from black lava rock, but we never actually made it there. We came out on such a lovely square

 and since the clock on top of the bell tower had already struck 1, we decided to sit down for lunch.
The best meal I've eaten in France this trip -- pillows of pastry envelooping chicken, mushrooms and em-mental cheese. Then came the pork and fries that tasted like fair fries with just a hint of sweetness to them and slightly limp.

After walking through town, enamored of every wrought iron balcony painted a leaf green or periwinkle blue, we made our way back to the car and drove down to the beach, about 25 kilometers away.

So much to consider, but this location seems nearly ideal.

First Post From France -2017

I never know whether I should post about the things that happened the past few days or jump to today. But if I start posting about the past, then I never seem to catch up.
Traveling here was exhausting. I took melatonin on the plane but never managed to fall asleep, instead just dozing a few times. Maybe I'm getting too old to fly overseas and skip a night's sleep. Someday, I hope to relay the entire story -- two planes, two trains and one automobile, which the rental people seemed very reluctant to give us. "It is a new car," the woman said.
"Look, we aren't planning to wreck it," I wanted to say
But things improved rapidly after we got to the BnB, I took a shower and we went out to dinner.
The town where we are staying is fairly small. It has a boulangerie, a small market that sells everything, a pharmacie and a couple of wine makers. But it doesn't have a legitimate restaurant. Instead, it has a restaurant rapide, pizza place.
The woman in the market said it had good food, so we walked there.
We started with a glass of moscat, which is made locally.

It is very sweet and tasted delicious.
The menu offered goat cheese pizza with black olives, so that is what I ordered., along with a $14 bottle of red wine and a salad. About halfway through that bottle of wine, things started to feel much better.

By 9:30, we returned to the room and I fell asleep by 10.
I started my morning with a run. It's strange to run in a place that is unfamiliar. I needed to make sure I didn't get lost. So I ran through town and turned right. That took me out into the country a bit. I heard a rooster crowing and in the distance a ridge of mountain jutted up.

That distant spire is the church in the town where we stayed. 

 In Ohio, it's very flat so I'm not used to real mountains, only fake ones in the clouds that look like mountains.
I only went about three miles so we could go off on our daily jaunt. Our goal is to visit cities with markets in hopes of choosing an area we want to move. Not many cities have markets on Friday mornings, but Séte, a city on the Mediterranean said it had a small market, so we headed there. It's just half an hour by car, and although I nearly got us killed when we first started driving there, I got the hang of it and didn't put a scratch on the new rental car.
The market at Place de Stalingrad took up nearly two blocks.

It had every kind of fruit or vegetable we would want to buy. The cherries seemed quite popular. And it had lots of prepared foods too, like this paella. The man had several giant pans of food.

We enjoyed the sunshine and walked toward the Mediterranean. The town is quite industrial with a lot of fishing boats and other industries along the waterfront. The canals seemed to be the places that people enjoyed the water.
Some of the architecture reminded me of Nice,

while others reminded me of typical French style.

The restaurant where we ate lunch had mediocre food, which is always a surprise in France, but we have made up for it in other ways, with lots of other foods.

Thanks for visiting. I'll try to get a post written tomorrow before we run over to Aix en Provence to visit our friend Delana.

Dreaming of France -- 2017 This is the Year

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

Today is the first day of the year that I will move to France. This year we will make our dream come true.
Everything I do with the kids, with my friends, makes me think, I won't be able to do this next year.
So there's a certain melancholy to it, but I imagine the adventures my husband and I want to have. I think about his recent 61st birthday and how we could push back the date to move, but how many healthy years do we have to climb mountains and dip our toes into the Mediterranean.

How many years can we count on wanting to walk unfamiliar city streets and settle into cafes for glasses of wine or tiny cups of espresso, to order in another language and try to translate menus;

to breathe in the beauty of a Roman-made arena or walk in the footsteps of great artists;

We visited the studio of Paul Cezanne and gazed at Mont Ste. Victoire which he painted many times.

The Pont du Gard in southern France was built by the Romans around 19 BC

And we rode our bikes across it. Amazing

I know that I may face many sentimental decisions in the coming months as we get rid of belongings, sell our house and plan to move to France, but I need to remember the reasons I'm doing it. We could get to the end of our lives and say we accumulated a lot of things and lived a safe life, or we can take some chances and have some adventures.
Hopefully, the safety of a leather recliner will be waiting for us when we tire of adventures.
So, don't cry for me, dear readers, wish me luck and follow along as I journey on.
Oh, and pray that none of my kids decide to become parents, because I have a feeling that grandchildren would throw a wrench into all of our plans.
Thanks for playing along with Dreaming of France. Please leave your name and blog address in Mr. Linky below, and leave a comment letting me know what  you think about my love affair with France, or your own passion for the country and its people and cultures. Also consider visiting the blogs of others who play along so we can all share the love.