Post Scriptum

We've had a wonderful few days in Switzerland, seeing our friends, hiking favorite trails and drinking sturdy Swiss wines.  Action photos below.

KVS

Happy Trails to You

It's hard to believe but the time has come to say goodbye.  We leave tomorrow for Switzerland, where we'll see friends for a few days before flying home.

Maybe it's a good day to leave because tomorrow is a French national day of mourning, the 200th anniversary of Napoleon's Waterloo defeat at the hands of treacherous England (or "perfide Albion" - a phrase which is considered redundant here.)

We're sad to go but also looking forward to seeing family and friends back in the US.  And we may pack a few local goodies in our bags to remind us of the scents and flavors of our beloved France.

Sorry to have wasted your time with this goofy blog - you can get back to work now!

KVS

Sometimes It Is Not Good To Speak French

We went on one of our favorite bike rides today, up up up to the Val d’Enfer.  We stopped at the top to enjoy the view across to Les Baux.

As we sat there, a couple of French ladies came by to do the same thing.  We said bonjour, but with our usual lousy French accents.  They must have figured that’s all the French we know.  Wrong-o! They proceeded to have a most interesting conversation.

The first lady started by saying it was too bad Jean-Michel wasn’t here, but his vertigo makes it hard to enjoy a view like this.  Plus there’s the problem with his feet.  Apparently, poor Jean-Michel has a vascular problem that occasionally makes his toes swell up and change color.  We got a vivid description of how downright nasty his toes could look.

We really didn’t need to know this.

Then the second lady talked about the rash she sometimes gets when she goes mushroom hunting.  And how much it itches.  And how her husband needs to rub cream into some rather, um, interesting places.

We were now deep into the Too Much Information zone.

I figured I would join in the fun by taking off my shirt and explaining how I got some of my rugged and manly scars.  But Val must have read my mind because she gave me that look, the one that means, “Don’t even think about it, buster.”

It’s funny, she didn’t say a thing in either French or English but I understood every word.

KVS

They Grow Up So Fast!

While we were in Cassis we took a tour of Clos Ste. Magdaleine winery, one of the most beautiful in France.  The vineyards come right up to the edge of the Mediterranean.

There were some other people on the tour, including a family with a precocious eight-year-old boy.  He asked very intelligent questions about the grapes, the harvesting process, etc.  Very impressive.

But the best was during the wine tasting at the end of the tour.  He started asking the tour guide about the winery's competitors - who are they?  How do you beat them?  Do you ever have to lower your price because you are selling a commodity product?  

Whoa!  It brought me back to my days at HBS!  I leaned over to the boy's father and said, "It sounds like your son has a bright future in business."

"Oh, that," he said, "that's just because he watches too much Shark Tank."

KVS

View from the vineyard

The vineyard from the air

Beautiful Cassis

We just got back from an overnight trip to Cassis, a little jewel of a town on the Mediterranean coast. We've visited a number of times over the years and each time we are once again amazed at how beautiful it is.

We stayed in a small hotel right next to a national park so the views from our terrace were beautiful.  During the days we visited a favorite local winery, hiked along the famous Calanques (kind of like miniature rocky fjords) and took a boat ride up the coast to see more of the Calanques.

Action photos below.

KVS

View from our hotel

The port of Cassis

Moules frites at the port

Les Calanques by land

Les Calanques by sea

Going to the Butcher, Part 2

Or..."This would never happen in the US"

I went again to the butcher.  This time to get a gigot d'agneau (leg of lamb). We were having our proprietor and his family over for dinner. I figured a gigot would be easy to make in advance and would feed a large group.

I was the only one in the butcher shop this time, so no wait.  I explained what I wanted.  For how many people, the butcher asked.  Ah, the gigot in my case is not large enough for your dinner for ten, he continued. 

So off he went to the back to get a larger one.  He appeared two minutes later, carrying not just a larger leg of lamb, but actually the back half of a lamb. Oh my.   At least the fur had already been removed.

He turned on his electric saw and in a couple of minutes it was cut in half, feet removed, trimmed of excess fat, deboned, and tied with string. 

Then came the cooking discussion. How was I preparing it?  My marinade and roasting met with his approval, but I was under no circumstances to use a temperature higher than 180 degrees Celsius.  And did I want the bones he had just removed?  I should place them next to the lamb, cover them with some olive oil and butter, add a full head of garlic, herbes de provence, and salt.  It would make a nice jus for the meat.

I can now vouch for this recipe.  The sauce was delicious and I received the seal of Provençal cooking approval from our friends.  

vvs

At Home in Provence

9:00 at night and look at how bright it still is - we haven't even finished our apero!

vvs

Fashion Do's and Don'ts

As a recognized expert on men's fashion, I speak with authority when I say that Stanislas Wawrinka needs a new wardrobe.

Wawrinka is currently in the semi-finals at Roland Garros, also known as the French Open.  And while his play is at a high level, someone should have told him to change out of his pajamas before coming to the stadium.  Or is it his boxers?

His shorts are so ugly that the announcers are making fun of them. They even compared them unfavorably to the legendarily bad outfit that Andre Agassi wore at Roland Garros in 1999, which is quite the insult.

The networks are hoping that Wawrinka's opponent Tsonga wins today, not only because he is French but because he knows how to uphold proper standards of style.  We have to set a good example for the young, after all.

KVS

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

The boys played the girls in boules yesterday.  Guess who won?

KVS

Kissing the Neighbor Lady

When our family was here recently, our brother-in-law Jonathan remarked on how friendly all the French people he met were.  He said that in the US, the French have a reputation for being rude.  I think it comes from American travelers who only go to Paris and only in the summer, when it is hot and the city is overrun with tourists and everyone gets a little grouchy.  It would be like a French person thinking all Americans were like New York taxi drivers on a hot summer day.  Or, god forbid, like Texans.

I thought about this when we met a neighbor lady yesterday.

We were visiting our friends Stéphane and Christel, and as we walked up their driveway we met someone else arriving at the same time, so we introduced ourselves.

In France, when you meet people you know, you usually “faire les bises”, that is, kiss them on the cheeks.  Men kiss women, women kiss men, and women kiss women, though only close male friends kiss each other.

But when you first meet someone, you usually shake hands, exchange names and each say  “enchanté.”  It is the equivalent of saying, “pleased to meet you” but much classier – it means “enchanted.”  

So when we met the lady on the driveway, I expected to shake hands.  But I could tell she was wondering who we were so first I told her that we were friends of Stéphane and Christel.  I explained that we have been helping each other with French and English language skills, respectively.  The lady turned out to be Christel’s aunt.  I guess my explanation made us members of the club, so instead of a handshake we got the bises.  Very nice and friendly.

Then we walked into the house and exchanged bises with Christel, Stéphane and their daughter Elodie.  But wait, there was someone else – a neighbor lady who was just leaving.

Normally, this would be when you would shake hands.  But no, she offered up her cheek right away as we exchanged names and enchantés.  

So I kissed her.  Then she left.  And I don't even remember her name.

I guess it was kind of the French equivalent of a one-night stand, except G-rated.

Jonathan would be so pleased.

KVS

Looking for Leon

There is a road near Les Baux that we've been meaning to explore so we took a bike ride around it today.  Val pointed out that the French actor Jean Reno owns a house in Les Baux and we thought we might see it.  Reno is best known as the hitman in "Leon" and looks pretty scary so we figured we'd better be careful.

The ride was beautiful, around and through a valley with lots of rugged rocky outcroppings.  And the road itself, which started off paved, got rougher and rougher and eventually ended up being just potholes and ankle-deep gravel.  But the views were amazing.

While we never found Reno's house, we passed a couple of beautiful estates that were likely candidates. But nobody shot at us so we're not sure.

After this long ride we of course had to fortify ourselves with lunch at one of our favorite restaurants.

KVS

Guilty as Charged

At our lunch the other day with Raphael and Sandrine, we ate at a lovely outdoor café, full of people enjoying the warm spring weather.  One of the specials that day was melon with Parma ham, a dish originally from Italy but popular here in melon country.

And the locals are justifiably proud of their melons.  “You really should try this dish,” said Raphael, “the ham is nice but oh!  The melon is quite delicious.”

“I know,” I said.  “I had some melon at breakfast this morning.”

Suddenly, all conversation in the restaurant stopped and everyone looked at me.  It was like I had farted in church.  Even the waiter, carrying a heavy tray, stopped and stared.

After an uncomfortably long silence, Raphael finally said, “Well, you Americans certainly eat the craziest things for breakfast.”

Who knew?

KVS