A bit more of a wander: Oh the delights of sun, family, rosé and celebrations

We are feeling so lucky. For the past 10 days we have enjoyed a dégustation of the very best experiences that gathering special people together can create. There was wine involved as well but it was strategically placed and Rosé from Provence is very good and there are so many kinds. Some occasions warranted something more bubbly and we included a good champagne, not too expensive, just tasting good and having a good bubbles/volume balance. Not really the time of year or the food styles for a heavier red but some was seen and the lighter Provence whites made an appearance especially on the night of the greatest festivities. As in many gatherings some preferred beer and one with tequila included, named desperado, developed some fans. The most spectacular options were the cocktails though especially those which incorporated lime, fruit and some salad vegetables with the alcohol sufficient to be called a daiquiri or a Mojito.

The water was also good enough to drink as “l’eau la table” but some with fancier tastes opted for the Perrier. Some of us did think that was a bit pretentious but we are in France and we will live as they do and accept that some people like water with a posh name. When we were young and lived in Merrin street, we had our own well and when others had problems with their water they came to us. We thought our water was very special then and it was free.

Any way – the longer tale. We arrived at Nice airport after a long hop and skip flight from Christchurch. Some other travellers had also done the same trek and probably reflecting my naivety I thought they looked similar to us. They were just slightly younger but for both of the couples travelling together this was their first big OE adventure. They had visited Australia but never beyond that so they were in “taking pictures of everything land” and had the look of wonder in their eyes as they headed off on their big Insight tour for 4 weeks. I felt calm and lucky but still with a flutter of wonder in my head.

We were tired, but not too much so, as even though I do not recall having a lot of sleep I had been assiduous in taking my No Jet lag pills on time. Geoff had slept and dozed a bit but I managed to force the pills into his mouth at the required intervals. I don’t care if they are semi magic potions but I felt good at the end of all the flying and continued to feel good. Maybe I can be the new marketing agent for them? I can fake a non-jet lagged smile if need be.

I knew that Jean and Cam’s flight from Canada via London arrived about the same time as ours but I was respecting their wish to be independent in getting to Ville Franche sur mer or the hive of Butcher family on the Riviera. They may need the quiet time before the family onslaught. We walked out of Nice airport to catch the bus to the train and there they were!! Hugging etc over we decided to walk the 750metres/1.2 km to the railway station rather than wait in the long queue for the bus to the station. Picture this –middle of the day in Nice, hot sun, and happy travellers setting off on a wee stroll dragging suitcases or lugging packs. Good for the first 500 meters then we had to make decisions and we discussed but made the wrong ones. Up shot was we walked an unnecessary 1 km after following Geoff’s I-phone advice and that of a “local who was British” and finally back tracked to get to the station in time to wait in the queue to buy tickets. Done, and in the train, standing in the vestibule with Jeanie counting the three stops to our stop and thinking out loud how weird it would be if Nick appeared. At stop 2 he did!!. Dark glasses and shorts and a smile. He coughed and laughed etc…and the Mama in me smiled.

Railway station in distance but old town in front

We walked from the station at Villefranche sur mer, marvelling at the beautiful views. The sea is actually azure. Jean, Cam and Nick diverted to a bar on the waterfront to meet Ellie and Duncan who had arrived earlier in the day but being unable to get into their Airbnb until 3 had spent time closer to the water feeling summery and in holiday mode. Geoff and I set off up many stairs – towards our apartment at the top of the “vieux ville”. So old and beautiful. The puffing was all to do with tiredness and heat nothing to do with being unfit. Our landlord was not yet available so we sat at the bar over the road, and had a beer while we waited. Ellie and Duncan wandered past enroute downhill and looking for their siblings. 6 weeks ago we saw them in Oldenburg and here they were in the south of France strolling past. Such a small town allows serendipity to flourish.

Quite happy waiting

green shutters with windows are our bathroom

The apartment is in an excellent position but Geoff and I both think that the couple who own it are trying to make a quick buck. It can sleep 6 people in 2 bedrooms and 2 pull out couches in the lounge and the kitchen. The bare necessities were provided but this did not include a broom or instructions on rubbish etc. It would also have been useful to have had a supply of laundry powder and even pepper and salt or oil for the kitchen. The basic things that are a nuisance to have to buy when you are travelling. So the next people now have laundry stuff and pepper and salt and tea bags and coffee to fit the machine or the plunger etc. The fridge did have some opened milk in it but that was about it as far as start up things. The view of the rooftops close by is fantastic- terracotta of various shapes and hues. The small balcony off the lounge has two chairs and a table, just big enough for the wine and cheese plate or the croissants and coffee.

This balcony makes a wonderful place for people watching as they walk up from the old town

Figure 3just below advertising was our viewing place

The view is between the roofs to the bay and beyond to the foot of Cap Ferat. It is a narrow view but well framed. This balcony makes a wonderful place for people watching as they walk up from the old town. You listen to the voices from your secret place above and can watch without being watched. The community nosey parkers could have a field day. The kitchen has large French windows which open out to a view of the square at the top of the old town as does the toilet/bathroom. Cleaning your teeth as you watch people chatting under the old olive tree or at the bar. This is in your face community connecting. The kitchen was often cooler than the rest of the house especially when we had all the windows in the house open. Jonathan even managed to finish some work there. The square, actually a “Place” and connection place of a number of streets and passages is a very busy space and the motor bikes roaring/buzzing round at night made sleeping a wee challenge. No aircon so the windows were open but the sounds then came in. On Thursday night it sounded as if one particular scooter hooligan was roaring round and round and round. We shrugged.

In the Place there is a bar/tabac – cheap drinks. A boulangerie --- very good the first day but she then went on holiday. I bought butter there and it was the whitest butter I have ever seen that still declared itself to be butter. Tasted good though and the small rivets holding the paper folds together epitomised the French touch. The Butcher at the top of the steps had beautiful meat and even my own resident butcher and meat connoisseur, Jonathan, was impressed with the quality and the range and the presentation. He bought sauscison and sausages but we had to look up “dinde” to work out what some of the sausages were. They were tasty so it didn’t really matter that they were turkey.

A fishmonger was open some mornings from his cart and a small vegetable stall was a few steps down but for any other food it was a walk down the steps to the Casino supermarché in the old town. A 5 minute walk for a paper, a bread and pastries and anything else. We did later discover there were more shops at about the same level as the apartment but in the newer part of town and the fruit and extras market on the grand terrace had some very impressive food from olives, cheese, paella complete with rice – much to David’s disgust, honey, bread etc. This market was only a 3 days a week thing so for the first few days we did not see it. We went a little café mad. The coffee was good, the rosés were light and varied and so quaffable and there were so many occasions to sit and share them.

The apartment the 2 girls and their men were sharing was a bit further up the hill with views you devour.

The whole bay and beyond from a terrace with loungers and table. A wee bit further to walk to the sea but when you got back so relaxing. Geoff and I had one night there after they had all left and Geoff did not leave once we had arrived. I went out for wine and bread and some salad things but it was wonderful just sitting. He was writing housing stuff but seemed very relaxed doing that in such a place. A very different kind of space to the old town situation but maybe by then we were ready for that.

We settled in to our apartment and then descended in to the town for the first of many family gatherings around a table with a glass, some olives or such things and just revelling in a beautiful place. It was wonderful.

First family toast on the waterfront at La Dolce Vita, but Nick wanted a restaurant with lasagne so we went wandering onto the back streets and found one, Café le Rade. He didn’t order Lasagne but we did have snails, and fish and Rosé. Nick returned to Nice and the rest of us retreated to our beds feeling amazingly alert considering we had come from many different places and for Geoff and I this was our first real bed for about 48 hours.

The bay is deep and enclosed by two capes with many stunning old villas – most well cared for but some looking tired. The old citadel is at one edge of the small harbour and you can see another castle high above the corniche routes round the coast. It feels small and safe but when a big cruise boat arrives it seems to dominate the bay – and you notice the voices and can recognise the passengers off the boat. The buildings are predominantly the terracotta and lemon you associate with warm places, with blue or green shutters. Some of the buildings are new and slightly less beautiful. Ugly rectangular statements of someone. Others are smothered in bougainvillea, with lemon and olives trees in the gardens, and you can imagine women in flowing white or pale coloured linen clothes living in them and sitting and writing, drinking pastis or tea and feeling arty. Ahhh.