So far so good.
We had navigated our way through the tiny grocery filling our basket with les tomates, deux pommes, un carrot, but the avocadoes were behind the grocer.
There was no way around it. I was going to have to mangle the language again. I gave it a stab. “Pardon-moi, s’il-vous plait, je voudrais un avocat.”
I waited. Waited for him to look at me like I was speaking German. But look! He smiled at me, “Pour aujourd’hui?”
“Aujourd’hui. Oui. Oui. Aujourd’hui. Merci!” I was almost yelling at the poor man, as giddy as if I’d just won the freaking lottery.
Oui! Oui! I was ready to hold that avocado aloft and do one of those football happy dances. I resisted.
Instead, I was positively demure (as demure as an almost-six-foot, snorkingly-loud woman in a petit grocery store can be). But clearly things were progressing.
He hadn’t asked me if I was from Germany (a common mistake that happens to both of us – could be the square heads and tallness that sends them down that trail) and I’d asked for, and received, the correct item.
Life was good.
But besides this opportunity to learn a language – and the incredible local patience in that process – what I love about this country is that the food is ripe, fresh and ready for eating right this minute.
That particular avocado was parfait in our salade. Les tomates were fragrant and perfectly ripe. The lamb was from a nearby farm and the eggs we ate this morning were raised in plein air. Don’t even get me started on the strawberries. They fooled us with their pale beauty, but they released a rich ruby taste; a juicy redness that spoke of love and living well…We gorged on les fraises.
So. The food thing is going well. And our new (yet ancient) home in Beauvoisin is beautiful, the back garden with its small pool, a study in elegance.
But it doesn’t do us much good as the weather is not quite cooperating with us. It is cool, bordering on chilly.
This wouldn’t be as much of a problem if I hadn’t left my jacket on the train from Paris. As the train did its slow chuff-chuff out of the station in Avignon, I realized my three-quarter length black coat was still on the rack above my seat.
No problem I thought. In fact, what I said to comfort myself was, “Colette (this is my new French alias) it’s a sign. You won’t be needing a jacket in the South of France.”
But alas, so far I was tres, tres wrong.
Instead of lolling in parks with picnics, I layer on a few shirts a la the Michelin man, and we buzz off in our little rental Renault – exploring the local atractions.
The fields are filled with poppies, crazy amounts of horses and cows and there is always somewhere to have an espresso. There are no shortages of chateaux, musees, restaurants, and markets to play in.
We’ve been to St. Gilles Abbey Church, the Chateau d’Avignon, the coliseum in Arles, and other assorted ancient and fascinating crumblies.
Each day we pick up our food for that evening’s dinner and then spend the night cooking, eating and drinking local wine.
I think this France thing just might work out.
Wow … France! My wife’s dream. (www.betweenthevines.ca and www.rickrake.com) We know of someone with a 200 year old home in the Loire ..that may be our saving grace as we dream about the south of France.
Great job with the blog, Colleen.
Thanks for dropping by Rick…check out my Trip Planning Page for ideas on how to be here without a lot of cash 🙂 Dreams need to be followed, especially the wive’s dream. Did I mention MOST ESPECIALLY the wive’s dreams of also living in Mexico for awhile (hoping Kevin is reading right now).
I like the looks of clickmediaworks.com and will check out both of your other sites too.
“je voudrais un avocat.”
Hmmm. Doesn’t that translate into: “I need a lawyer”?
Must say I’m envious of you and Kevin galavanting around France,
what with your ‘pieds å terre’ and all. Looking forward to more of your
shared adventure.
Hmmm…maybe that’s why it helped that I was pointing at the avocadoes:) Or maybe he just thought he’d better give me something so I’d quit threatening him with a lawyer!
Stay tuned for the next embarrassing installment. Working on a little video…
Oh, wow. Have a great time. Mark and I rented a villa in France two years ago and loved loved loved it. This August we’re doing 3 weeks in a little stone farmhouse in Umbria – hope it’s as good. If not, we’ll head to Beauvoisin. And by then it should be warm.
Hey Carol. It actually has warmed up the last couple of days, though not warm enough to fling myself in to the pool. Soon, I think…Umbria sounds divine. I loved it there. I think I could get used to settling in to a place like this. We’ve never really done this kind of slowstopped travel, before. Life is good.
I love your description of yourself. “…almost-six-foot, snorkingly-loud woman” !! How many times have some of us felt unwieldy and not quite a ‘fit’ in small and charming paces of history. Being assumed a German is a common enough occurrence for many of us travelers who are ‘fair’ I always fudge (okay, LIE) and and say I’m Canadian. I mean lie. Enjoy France and pale strawberries.
Hey Sarah, you big liar 🙂 I like that you’re passing yourself off as a Canadian…you make us look good.
Apparently there are enough varieties of strawberries here that they will be in constant supply until September. Sigh…And today it got warmer. Yahoo!
Sounds like you have settled in rather well. Lamb, Coq Au Vin Sounds wonderful. If we start cycling south from Amsterdam instead of east we could make it for dinner by June 27.
We are loving Amsterdam. A little Van Gogh, Rembrandt and Heineken. We could spend days looking out a cafe window watching all different bikes, attire and cargo ride by. We hit the road on Sunday.
Hey Cycling-Gereins, isn’t Amsterdam great? Can you believe how many bikes there are in that city? And the clothes fit me. Tall people everywhere!! Stay safe. Happy trails. And yes, if you decide to head south, we’ll put dinner on…
it all sounds marvelous! i’m so happy for you both. “hooray for everything” is going to be my new slogan as well.
‘Hooray for Everything’ Barb! It’s a great slogan, especially if we really truly mean it. Hooray that I lost my coat! Hooray that my toes are cold! Seriously, I think it’s just an enthusiastic acceptance of all that is. (Thanks again for that to Vivien – a fabulous message from Italy 🙂
I’ve posted twice on a previous blog but the msg disappears when I hit Submit. Here’s my question: are you planning any trips in the direction of Italy? If so, pay a visit to Frejus – approx 2 1/2 hr drive from Beauvoisin. I remember narrow streets with laundry hanging above, thick walls, so old it’s medieval. Wonder if it’s changed during the past 47 years.
Doesn’t matter if the weather is cool, bec it’s much worse here with rain and hail ALL week. Strawberries won’t be ready for at least another month. Enjoy!
Thank you for persisting Martha. We’ve had some strange internet issues here, which might be what happened to your other messages. Sorry I missed them.
We have no real plans except to explore as much as possible. Frejus sounds quite fabulous. I could really confuse myself by resurrecting my few bits of Italian into this whole mess I’m trying to call language.
Sorry to hear about the monsoon. We had thunder and rain last night and today it seems like it just might be warm. I’ll have a few buckets of strawberries for you 🙂
Colleen!!!!! You’ve succeeded in coming over and spending a couple of months in France! I am thrilled for you! Enjoy! You look wonderful! I’ll be going to Canada end of July and hoping to see you around mid-August. How exciting everything is! A dear Aussie friend of mine saw a little VW Combi van a few months ago and it looked as though it had been touring around. On the back it read, “Hooray for everything!”
And so be it: HOORAY FOR EVERYTHING!!!!
Hooray for Everything!! I love it! Can’t wait to see you in Canada. We have a place reserved for you guys by the ocean 🙂 Let me know when you’ll be visiting and we’ll get the barbeque fired up! Thanks for checking in Vivien. Ciao!