Despite what one might think, there is a disadvantage to being in a south-facing balcony room on the Mediterranean Sea. There is absolutely no way to avoid the morning sun.

I awoke somewhere around 5:00AM to the full majesty of the sunrise and instantly knew my night was over. While I envied Donna’s ability to continue sleeping in morning light so bright I could see my skeleton in the mirror, I took a picture from the balcony before heading down to the beach.

I crossed the street and walked down the shoulder to the sand…I was completely alone.

I grooved on the scene a while and even took a selfie before walking back to the hotel.

I returned to the room as Donna was waking up and told her how beautiful the beach was…and then I when down to the beach a second time with Donna (although the sun was now high in the sky).

After breakfast, we decided to backtrack to the east to see some places we’d had to skip in order to get to the hotel on time.

First, we visited Fréjus and it’s Roman ruins starting with its coliseum. But before we got to the coliseum, we found this memorial park just outside it that commemorates a catastrophic flood caused by a dam failure in December of 1959 resulting in 423 deaths in Fréjus and two nearby villages when the Malpasset Dam failed.

We walked around the coliseum for quite a while. I was so fascinated by the structure/engineering and restoration activities that we didn’t take any pictures. So…here’s an overhead view from Google maps.

From the coliseum on the western side of Fréjus, we walked to the center of town just as the market was winding down and took some pictures of the spice vendor’s colorful wares.

We had a quick beverage at the local watering hole (some distance from the market to avoid those awful, loud American tourists) and then returned to the church square where the Roman museum and medieval cloister are located.

The museum records various aspects of Roman life in Fréjus. Two nearly complete Roman homes were discovered under the remnants of newer buildings and much of the flooring and wall decorations survived. Here are two photos Donna took of a nearly perfectly preserved floor mosaic.

From the church square, we walked further east (and uphill) to the remains of the town’s Roman aqueduct which was built in the middle of the 1st century or roughly 1,900 to 1,950 years ago (!!). More incredible to me; it actually functioned (carried water to the city from over 20 miles away) for 450 years. Oh, and they didn’t wear out or break; they only failed because local farmers punched holes in them to irrigate their crops and villagers used the stone to build the medieval cities.

A short walk from the remains of the aqueduct and old roman city gates are the remains of the Roman amphitheater. To be fair, it’s not much to look at because there are modern aluminum bleachers built on top of the remaining stone structure because the facility is still in use.

As we were walking back to the coliseum where we parked our car, we came across some people playing petanque (to me, it looks like the French version of bocci) so we stopped and watched for a little while.

From Fréjus, we backtracked further east to a memorial park called Embarcation Beach which commemorates the Allied landing that drove the Germans out of southern France in August of 1944 known as Operation Dragoon.

Next time: We take to the sea and visit San Tropez!

I didn’t mention this in the previous installment, but Donna and I went to the Fondation Maeght (a modern art museum and gallery in St. Paul) on Monday, but we weren’t particularly impressed with it (no photos because we chose not to pay the photographers fee which was above and beyond the ticket price). There were two problems with the museum and gallery from my perspective: First, the museum was more focused on its architect than on the art (and all his buildings looked the same). Second…well, I don’t share the Maeght’s taste in art.

Anyway, Donna asked me what I wanted to do on Tuesday which was our last day in the Antibes/St. Paul/Vence area) and I said I wanted to see the Picasso museum in Antibes (because I’m more familiar with Picasso’s work and actually like it). So, we drove down to Antibes to visit his museum (it was known as the Grimaldi museum while he worked there for six months in 1946).

But, that wasn’t our first stop.

After we checked out of La Vague, we went to Vence because it was market day there. We wandered around a bit and decided to have a sandwich at a little shop before hitting the market for some snacks for the road.

We bought some cheese, dry sausages, bread and olives before doing some last-minute window shopping in this cute little town.

This was one of the market vendors’ dog. One of very few we encountered that seemed to appreciate a little attention from a stranger.

It was a hot day and just after lunch when we arrived at the museum in Antibes (which, of course, was closed during lunch-this is France after all). We stood in the sweltering sun in a long line of tourists wondering whether all this was worth it.

It was.

We couldn’t take pictures inside, but the sculpture garden along the sea wall was fair game. If you have the opportunity, I’d recommend visiting the Museé Picasso (but avoid the crowd if you can).

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this piece. It seemed like a waste of a lot of guitars, but somehow, it appealed to me.

After the museum, we headed west along the coast across L’Estérel (one of three mountain ranges that cross France and reach the Mediterranean). We needed to reach our next hotel in Saint Aygulf and were short on time, but made a brief stop at Cap Roux for some pictures.

No one was really able to tell us the origin of these structures, but we were sufficiently fascinated that we tried to research it ourselves and it’s still a mystery. Other than the lookout which was obviously more modern, they appear to be military structures from several different historic periods. The oldest were simple stone ramparts. Others were brick and mortar and still others were made of reinforced concrete more like WWII bunkers. I guess we’ll have to come back and take another look at it when we understand what it’s all about.

I conquered my acrophobia long enough to hop up on the wall and look down at the cliff face and the sea beyond (OK, that’s long enough).

Off we went to Saint Aygulf and our budget-friendly hotel for a delicious, but low-budget evening meal on the balcony.

I posted this on my Facebook page before, but here again is the brochure-friendly photo I took from the balcony and then the wide shots to show the construction site across the road between us and the beach. C’est la vie.

BTW, notice that the top of the crane is pivoting freely in the wind. Apparently, the crew felt it unnecessary to lock it down for the night.

Despite my good-natured ribbing about the hotel, out hosts were very friendly and helpful and I would gladly stay there again.

Next time: Dawn and sunset in St. Aygulf, Roman ruins in Fréjus and Embarkation Beach.

On Monday, Donna and I decided we’d drive around Antibes to the other side of the pennisula to Juan les Pins. We drove out as far as we could and parked at the beach which was also the beginning of the cliff trail that continued far longer than we had time to explore, so we hiked out as far as could and then retreated to the beach bar for refreshments. 😉

The French concept of public safety is somewhat different than what you might be accustomed to. Loosely translated, the sign says ‘don’t go any further or the wind and sea will wash you away and you’ll die’.

As we were relaxing at the beach with our respective beverages, a rainbow magically appeared and a sailboat lazily floated across it.

For comic relief, a male seagull was attempting to impress a female with a tennis ball (I’m sure he thought it was a premium sea urchin). He kept offering it to her and then rolling it towards  her. She was either smarter than he was or already had a better offer.

Next stop: Antibes and the Picasso museum.

I asked Donna for one day to myself to do nothing but lounge on the terrace of our hotel and Sunday wasn’t exactly the perfect day to do it, but…this was my soggy view from my chilly perch.

Meanwhile…Donna was in the village of Biot.

These are the pictures of the town that Donna took while walking around/shopping: I am jealous that Donna claims she had one of the best lunches of our trip on the afternoon she went out on her own. I assume it tasted as good as it looks. Finally, here are some pictures she took with the cellphone of some of the glass pieces on display.

After Donna returned from Biot, we made a brief visit to Antibes and walked on the path above the marina and below the castle.

Someone suggested we visit Tourettes sur Loup near St. Paul de Vence because it is an equally beautiful, but lessor known village. Since we had a rental car, we decided to check it out and were not disappointed. This is a much more authentic snapshot of daily life for the people who live in the South of France. Sure, there were a few tourists (besides us) and businesses that catered to them/us, but compared to St. Paul de Vence, Tourettes sur Loup was quiet and tranquil.

We took a picture of the map at the entrance to the old village because neither of us had ever heard of it before and we were likely to forget.

Here are a few pictures from around town.

We wanted to capture this woman’s image as she casually read her magazine outside her home (with her cat on the window ledge behind her).

We noticed this archway and stair that seemed to lead away from the town before we saw the sign that indicated there was a scenic overlook.

We were not disappointed….

How friggin’ cute is this?

We stopped into a fabric shop and encountered this afghan puppy. He was very shy, but so cute as he weighed his curiosity and his fear of strangers (alternately approaching and then backing away when we made eye contact). Donna was much more successful engaging him than I was (this is unusual and noteworthy).

That’s all for now. Stay tuned for the next installment (Biot and my day off).

Thanks,

Ken (& Donna)

So…we’ve arrived at a hotel called La Vague de St. Paul and drove about 10 miles to the town of Saint Paul de Vence which is located here:

We parked in a modern parking garage just outside the village at its northern end and walked through the gate and inside the city wall. I took this first picture outside the wall in the square outside a café. You can’t tell from this picture, but the village is on top of a hill and the vistas are spectacular.

As I mentioned before, the cemetery (which is located at the southern end of the village) is the final resting place of Marc Chagall. We got thirsty on our way there and had a little liquid refreshment. Belgian beer and sweet (soft) cider.

Fortified, we walked to the cemetery.

Here is Marc Chagall’s grave.

Did I mention the tremendous vistas?

There is a little chapel in the cemetery, but it was locked so I had to take this picture between the bars on the window.

Next to the cemetery was an abandoned orange grove. Unfortunately, we couldn’t simply wander over there and help ourselves. The fruit looks ripe and the air was thick with the smell of orange blossoms.

Here are a few pictures of the town.

We had lunch at a small café on a quiet street away from the crowds called Le Caruso. The food was awesome!

I love the juxtaposition of the cat door casually installed into the existing medieval door.

Well, that’s all for now. Stay tuned for Donna’s pictures as she visits Biot and the glass studios while I lounge in the hotel on a rainy day.

This year’s trip to France began with a train ride from Providence, RI to Boston, MA and then a cab to Logan Airport. We flew from Boston to Munich and then to Marseilles.

We arrived in Marseilles in the early afternoon, picked up our rental car and drove to our first hotel in La Ciotat on the coast about thirty minutes to the southeast of Marseilles.

We walked around the town of La Ciotat, but didn’t take any pictures with the 35mm camera (don’t know why; too tired probably). Anyway, La Ciotat is typical of small coastal towns on the Riviera; packed with tourists, ridiculously overpriced and staffed by people who know they’ll never see you again…but I digress.

La Ciotat is beautiful in an almost subliminal way. If you blindfolded me, dropped me in the middle of the waterfront and asked me where I was, I couldn’t be sure. Not because I’d never been there, but because all the coastal villages I’ve been to look very similar to me. (I know they don’t look similar to the people who live there or anyone claiming to have a more worldly sense than I do, but I’m just a stupid American in the South of France…with a Visa card.)

We spent the night in La Ciotat at the (no shit) Best Western hotel right on the waterfront. The view from the room was lovely (see below), but we had no luck with restaurants (cold, bland food).

On Tuesday, we drove about 2 hours west from La Ciotat to La Grande Motte (near Montpellier) for my conference (the real reason for the trip).

Here’s a view of the harbor from our balcony.

While I chaired a session on transdermal delivery Wednesday, Donna visited the town of St. Guilhem le Désert.

On the way back to La Grande Motte, Donna stopped in the salt marsh (Camargue) to take this photo of flamingos feeding.

While I was at the meeting on Thursday, Donna visited the markets in L’Ile sur la Sorgue, but was captivated by these poppies growing wild in the parking lot before she even got there.

View Larger Map | Get Directions | View Bird’s Eye

Thursday evening I played at the evening Gala Event during the cocktail hour at a beautiful venue called Domaine des Moures just west of La Grande Motte.

As many of you know, this has been a year of transition for me and this particular performance was a nexus in the sense that I was playing for people I’ve been acquainted with for over twenty years, but only a few of them knew I was a musician.

My thanks to Alphavisa (Michel and Delphine) as well as Keith Brain and Ken Walters for pulling this together for me by renting the two guitars and coordinating with the DJ to set up the PA system before my arrival. All I had to bring across the pond was a little kit with strings, picks, etc.

After the conference ended on Friday, we did some laundry and then headed back east to Saint Paul de Vence near Nice (another three-hour drive to the east). In addition to being a beautiful hilltop Medieval village with steep, narrow winding cobblestone streets, St. Paul de Vence is the final resting place of Marc Chagall.

I’ll try to get the next installment posted in a few days. The photos from St. Paul de Vence, Vence, Antibes, Ste. Maxime and San Tropez are worth the wait.

Thanks,

Ken