La Petite Pamplemousse: Summertime, Time, Time, Child, the Living's Easy

After much deliberation, I decided to go on vacation after failing to get a visa appointment here in Lyon. I booked an appointment at home (thinking it'd be much easier there), packed my bags, and went to explore the South. My first stop was Marseille. Although I have previously blogged about this city on the sea, it's worth mentioning a final time. Maybe « Third time's a charm » really is applicable sometimes in life. I tend to only go back to places and people when I really love them...

My first impression of Marseille back in 2004 was heaven on earth. I was on an exchange program with my high school in July, I had just read The Count of Monte Cristo, and I was able to stand where a large portion of the novel takes place, the Château D'if. I was meeting new people, it was my first trip outside of the USA, I was young, and I was in love with everything. Seven years later, I returned to Marseille to visit my high school exchange friend, Julie. We spent a weekend catching up in person, laughing about our old high school ways, and discussing our future plans. The second visit to Marseille was cold and rainy, instantly putting a damper on my past vision of the city. I noticed the trash left next to the overfilled dumpsters (this was during the strikes mind you), the monstrous amount of pigeons thrusting their necks around, and the aggravated drivers honking their horns every five seconds. I instantly thought choosing Lyon as my new home was for the best. This time, I headed down to visit two friends, Selim and Anthony. I left Lyon in the pouring rain and the clouds followed me They showed me the Palais Longchamp, the Notre-Dame de la Garde, and we walked up and down the beach. Although the rain came and went throughout the afternoon, I was just happy to see new things and have fun. Selim instantly picked up on my embarrassment to take pictures in a big city and stole my camera, starting a photo shoot of hilarious pictures. I'm not really sure why I get that way, perhaps the possibility of someone stealing something while I'm focused on capturing the view, or perhaps it just feels more intimate in smaller, quieter towns. Like I only have the right to take pictures when no one else is around.

Storm's a comin!

Palais Longchamp, home of the Natural History and Art Museums in Marseille

Notre-Dame de la Garde

Inside

The next day we headed to Eyguères, a small town near Avignon, to watch the bulls run for July 14^th, France's national holiday. There I met a bunch of Selim's friends from Judo, all of whom instantly welcomed me into their close-knit group. One of the many ways in which Southern France beats Lyon is the extreme friendliness of everyone. I guess you could say the same thing about the USA. I always missed people saying hi to me (no matter if I knew them or not), holding the doors when you're halfway across the street, welcoming you into their party, and so on when I went home to Philly from Harrisonburg. We began to sing along to the bar music, playing the most ridiculous games, exchanging stories, and just living life. By far the best afternoon all summer long. I felt at home in a place I had never visited with people I had just met hours earlier.

The following morning I moved on to Toulon to begin my couchsurfing. There I was greeted by a lovely French grandmother who cooked me an amazing lunch, spilled out her life story, and went with me to the beach (She was the one who dared to go swimming in the freezing water, not me.) She had married her husband at the ripe age of 23 (thanks for the pressure, Madame), got divorced about 8 years ago, went through a terrible depression, traveling around Northern Africa to get rid of it, and now they are dating again. « C'est la vie, » she said, grinning. Toulon is a huge Navy town on the coast of France. It was from Toulon that France sent ships out to conquer Algeria in 1820. Marie-José was actually born in Algeria and a large majority of her stories had to deal with the transformation she and her birth country went through during her childhood. We went to a free jazz concert at night dancing the night away to an amazing organist from none other than N'awlins. The following morning I took a boat tour of the harbor (one of the largest in Europe) and learned all about the French Navy and local history. Overall, another amazing experience because of a wonderful host who taught me that it's never too late to learn how to sail, travel alone to a foreign country, or fall in love.

French beach=tons of pebbles!

Sunset on the docks

Napoleon wanted this Opera House to look exactly like the one in Paris.

The third stop on my trip was Fréjus. My couchsurfing host here had recently sprained his ankle so he was able to take me around everywhere since he didn't have to work. We first got a drink at a small port in St. Raphaël where the wind would not stop blowing things away. Then we went to a restaurant on the beach where some of his friends lived. Again, I felt at home. It was like I was in Rehoboth but everyone was speaking French. All of the locals were joking around, the owner would go over to the open kitchen turn up whatever song was playing and sing and dance about, the servers all came over to say hello and give me kisses as if I too lived there year round. I could not stop laughing and smiling. The sunset was amazing and I kept thinking how lucky I was to be able to visit such a beautiful place. The next morning, my host, Frédéric, took me to the local Roman ruins. We also took a tour of his town, discussing the recent loss of his father. Between Marie-José and Frederic, I learned more life lessons in two days than I did the past year. As Frederic said, « It's better let life go with a smile, acknowledging that you've done all you've ever wanted to do, than to be sad because it's over. » We went back to the restaurant since it began to rain and then as it cleared up we went to climb the Cap de Roux. Another wonderful day with amazing views on life, nature, and happiness.

I want 3 little French babies like this! So cute

This used to be an aqueduct, transporting water up and down the area!

Something about vines climbing up old French homes makes me smile

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."-Robert Frost

Beautiful rocks

Sunset from Frédéric's apartment

The following day I was supposed to move onto Grasse and Nice but the hostels were too expensive. I didn't realize that if you booked a 4 bed room you had to pay for all 4 people. It's too bad my friends have all gone home. Not quite ready to head back to Lyon and still wanting to hang out with fun people, I called up Selim and was back to Marseille. Selim's friend was visiting from Grenoble, so he was going to be exploring tourist attractions anyways. We headed to Aix-en-Provence for the afternoon, exploring the town by following Cezanne's history. We stopped for drinks, taking in the afternoon sun and hanging out with more of Selim's friends, Vincent and Amy. The next morning we headed to the Calanques. I think that living next to the Shenandoah Mountains for four years really taught me how to love climbing and walking through nature. The views were spectacular with the contrasting colors of the gray rocks, turquoise ocean, and lime green bushes. Of course the idiot I am, I didn't think to put my bathing suit on before our trip. I waded up to my thighs nonetheless in the frigid waters. I tried to make fajitas for the boys in repayment for allowing me to stay last minute, but of course France lacks most of the necessary ingredients. I promised Selim he'd get his fair share of Mexican food when he moves to the USA in a few weeks. Finally the next day we met up with Anthony again and headed to his grandparent's camping site. We had a typical French BBQ (yummy Merguez), headed to the pool for a bit, and tried to set up our tent. As we laid out this bubble wrap sort of tarp, I found a ton of snails hanging out. I was surprised no one wanted to cook them (bad joke, wamp wamp wamp). That night we headed to another beach town, Bandol, where we walked along the night market, ate sandwiches and ice cream, and enjoyed the free, but not so wonderful karaoke. Every time I went to sing along, they either changed the lyrics or moved on to another Michael Jackson song. Oh France! The following day, Anthony's grand-mom made us this wonderful soup. They were surprised I liked it (not sure why I wouldn't, it's French food after all!). Some sort of basil, garlic, elbow macaroni deliciousness. We did absolutely nothing all day but sleep and eat. They were teasing me because I wanted to go do something, the antsy northerner! That night I headed back to Lyon, welcomed by the rain once again.