Our landlord had recommended a train ride into the Pyrenees mountains, starting at Villefranche and going to Mont-Louis, but we didn't get up in time to catch it and decided to drive the route instead. (Route N116 out of Perpignan towards Andorra) It was well worth the effort. The mountains are so green, except for the snow capped peaks, making for beautiful vistas. One of our favorite routines (which probably needs review, looking at my waistline) is having a proper French lunch. Mont Louis is a skiing village which, as most skiing villages in the spring, was dead, but we did find one hotel dining room that looked pretty busy, with big windows overlooking the mountains and valleys. We were seated, and just settling in for a nich quiet lunch, when the tour bus pulled in. We had noticed that all the tables near us already had bread and water on them. The whole busload poured into the restaurant and surrounded us on three sides. This was a boisterous group from the beginning, and wine didn't quiet them down. Too bad we couldn't understand any of the obviously very funny remarks being made.

One of the French traditions (I think it is pretty much just the French) that always amuses us is bringing their dogs to lunch or dinner. The dogs we have seen in the restaurants over the years are amazingly well trained and never a bother, although I have never figured out how they make sure that their pets don't mistake a table leg for a fire hydrant. Now, that would be distracting. The couple at the next table went so far as to put the dog's dish on the table and scrape all their leftovers into it.......and leave the dish on the table until they left.

The rest of the time in Collioure was pretty laid back. There was a restaurant on the main drag, in neighboring Pont Vendres, which the British skipper had recommended, but it took us three tries to find it open. I guess that each day, they assessed the weather and anticipated business, and made a business decision as to whether to open. After a lunch of pizza and pasta (both very good), we spent the whole afternoon finishing our wine, taking a stroll, and sitting on a bench watching and talking about everyone else.

When our week was up, we paid the bill. cleaned our apartment, packed the car, and headed for our next destination. We had reserved a gite (in this case, a studio apartment) at Ferme de Riola (www.fermederiola.com), a campground, that also has six apartments, 30 minutes north of Nice. Joel Gambiez and his son, Claude, who studied in the US and speaks English, run this beautiful place. The property is part of an olive grove and an arboretum with 120 different species of trees. We have been too busy sightseeing to totally explore the grounds yet, but everything we have seen is immaculate and beautiful. I would highly recommend it.

Our little gite is just a studio apartment and I was leary at first, but it has turned out to be just fine. The kitchen is quite well furnished, and this time, we have a little oven as well. I now, one week later, have cooked several meals successfully. We are well up in the foothills of the Alpes-Maritimes, just a ten minute walk from a tiny village, Sclos de Contes. There is no boulangerie, but the necessary daily baguette can be purchased in the post office! Only in France.....There is, of course, a cathedral, a restaurant and bar (only serves food at lunch until 2:00, unless there is any bread left over, and then maybe you can get a sandwich after that, and the bar closes at 8:00), and a pharmacy. All the roads in the whole area are a series of switchbacks, and we are talking, in many cases, 180 degree switchbacks. Dick was a nervous wreck the first couple of days, but has adapted beautifully. He is often convinced that the road must be one way, since there is no room for two vehicles, when, around the turn, comes some sort of truck. Somebody always finds someplace to pull over while the other vehicle passes.

The villages around here are just charming – all very old and built on the sides of or on top of the hills or mountains. The interior streets are so tiny – many are for walking only and are a maze. Flower pots hang from every avaiable window or hook. To live here, you would have to be happy with your village, because driving between them is one constant switchback. There would be no going out to dinner, drinking wine, and driving home after dark.

One of our first trips was to Berre-des-Alpes, a tiny little village with one restaurant, a small store which is the grocery/hardware/full purpose spot, a church, and a wonderful art gallery buried in the caves under the church. It is really untouched by tourism – we met a delightful British couple and their young daughter at the lovely little restaurant, who had purchased a place in town, to which they plan to retire. For those of you planning on visiting this area, other cute towns that we have visited include Luceram, Coaraze and Castillon. Others recommended by our host are La Brigue, Notre-Dame des Fontaines, Saorge, Peillon, Gourdon, and Tourrettes-sur-Loup – we will get to some of those this week. I am trying to take it a bit easy on poor Dick since he does all the driving on these roads. Our little Puegot has a manual transmission, which I learned on years ago, but haven't driven in some time, and we both agreed that the 180 degree switchback roads in these mountains aren't the place for me to renew my skills.

Villefranche sur Mer was recommended to us. It is a lovely little seaside town just east of Nice, and also the temporary home at one point of Brangelina, who were the guests of Paul Allen's, of Microsoft fame – just to give you some idea of the neighborhood. One of the highlights in neighboring Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat are the Villa & Jardins (Gardens) of Beatrice de Rothschild, who spent her life collecting art and creating beautiful gardens. The garden includes fountains that are timed to music, and gardens inspired by those in Florence, Japan, Spain and Provence. it is a beautiful place, and well worth a visit.

We have been to Nice twice now – they have a brand new tram that starts north of town near the A-8 (at Pont Michel and Las Planas) and goes downtown. We love it. There is a big parking lot where you can park all day for 2E (the locals, of course, just find parking on the street). From what I can determine, the part of Nice worth seeing , besides the famous 4 mile Promanade des Anglais along the water, is the old town, which includes the market on Cours Saleya. The market was fine, although not outstanding, but we weren't in the position to buy much since we were going to walk around the rest of the day. The old town is primarily the narrow cobbled old streets lined with shops and restaurants. Off that area are some pretty parks and plazas. We were there on Sunday, where it was warm and sunny, while up in the mountains, they were having some of the worst rains in history.

We were amused to watch the process of a car being towed. Putting the car on the dolly to load it on the truck is quite a lengthy process and involves lots of crawling under the car and manually jacking it up on all corners. Two police cars were standing by, so there were at least 5 men involved. Just as the dolly was connected and the car was about half way up the ramp, the owner came around the corner. We expected there to be a confrontation, but instead, just a lot of arm waiving and laughing. The tow truck driver just turned around and started the unhooking process. I suppose he got paid, but whether by the driver or the city, who knows.

I have decided where the Americans' reputation for being rude comes from. We aren't rude – we are confused, and when we are confused we forget all the nice things to say, all the bonjours, mercis, s'il vous plaits, etc., and just blurt out the one word we do remember to make our request known – vin (wine), carte (menu), l'addition (bill), etc. Another cultural dilemma answered, but not solved.

We drove to LaTurbie, a beautiful spot overlooking Monaco. It was in this area that poor Grace Kelly met her demise. There is also a lovely little park dedicated in 2007 to Prince Ranier by his son. The views are breathtaking. We have no desire to visit Monte Carlo , having lost our 20 French francs in an obligatory stop at the casino 20 years ago, so were very satisfied to just view it from above. We also had a very good lunch in La Turbie at Le Cafe de la Fontaine on Avenue du General de Gaulle. Would recommend it.

On the way back home, we stopped at Eze, a medieval village, apparently known for shopping. As is typical, everything goes up, so we got some exercize. Around every corner was another shop selling goods from Provencal, or an upscale hotel and restaurant. If we ever win the lottery (which is unlikely since we never buy tickets), I am going to travel Europe staying exclusively in Relais and Chateux hotels. Apparently there is a very pretty garden on top of this hill town. Dick was tired of climbing so found a friendly bench, while I trudged my way to the top. Unfortunately, the entrance fee was 5 Euro, but I could only find 4. By the time I got back down to get more money, I had lost my desire, so will have to look it up on the internet to see what I missed. We are loving the GPS, “The Lady”. It has taken so much strain out of the driving – for both of us. Even when we miss a turn, or she occasionally takes us down an closed road, etc., she instantly re-routes us, and off we go. Its not always pretty, but we always get there. We have learned that, if possible, we should make U-turns to get back on the original route – the alternative routes can be challenging.

Since we arrived in this area, Le Moulin de L'Oliveraie, a restaurant in a very small town near here, Blausac, has been recommended to us. We had tried on our first Sunday here, but were told emphatically, once we had climbed straight up for about 20 minutes from our car, that without reservations on Sunday, it simply was “not possible” to seat us. Sunday lunch is a very big deal over here. So we decided that Wednesday lunch was a better bet, and we have now become hopelessly addicted to our lunches out. This time our long hike was rewarded. The restaurant is a bit of a splurge, but what the heck! And it was worth it. The long French lunch is infamous – hard to get out of a restaurant in under an hour and a half, if not two hours. Actually, the biggest wait seems to be after the meal is complete – it moves along fairly well until the coffee is served, and then the waiter or waitress just disappears. In La Turbie, we waited and waited.....I looked around and found our waitress at another table leisurely enjoying her own proper French lunch, with no concern for anything else. We have decided that we need to ask for our bill as soon as they clear the last course, although, if the chairs are comfortable, and we are on a balcony with a beautiful view as we were in Blausasc, what else do we have to do?

Another medieval town on my list was Peillon, which we found after lunch. Now, this is the quietest town I have ever seen. These hill towns are amazing – we could see it perched high above the main road. We turned off and started up. The French word for hairpin curves is lacet (meaning “bend”, but also meaning “lace”). We saw several warning signs of 7 lacets or 5 lacets ahead, in which case we cork-screwed our way up the mountain, Dick swearing that if we met another car, it was sure disaster, which of course, we did, and it wasn't.

After writing the above, we left for lunch at the little restaurant in Berre-les-Alpes. We each had the plat dujour, wine, dessert (Dick) and coffee (me). The woman (also the chef) who took the dessert order spoke no English. I very clearly told her that Dick would like the chocolat glace (chocolate ice cream) and asked if she had chocolat sauce. She enthusiastically gestured that she understood and off she went. I commented to Dick how much fun it is to actually be able to communicate, albeit it something so simple. A few minutes later she was back with his dessert – rum raisin and cherry ice cream topped with whipped cream! I laughed until tears ran down my face – so much for my ability to communicate. My other accomplishment was to successfully purchase coffee and eggs at the little store across the square, which we then went off and left on the bench outside the restaurant! Oh well.....

For the record, in my first post, I talked about the series of talks by Thomas Kimmel about his grandfather, Admiral Kimmel and Pearl Harbor. Well, I was operating from memory, and apparently got my facts wrong because I got this comment from Mr. Kimmel:

Dick and Carole, Thanks for the plug on my lectures, but I may have mis-led you on some of your facts. It was Kimmel and Short (not Stark) who were denied the critical information from decrypted Japanese diplomatic and spy communications that gave indications of the time, place, reason, and deceit plan to cover the attack. Kimmel did not discover this fact until 2/21/44 (not 1942) when Captain Safford blew the whistle to him about Japanese codes, i.e., MAGIC. Finally, it was J. Edgar Hoover, and William Donovan of FBI and OSS/CIA fame respectively, who did not testify at any of the 10 Pearl Harbor investigations despite having clearly relevant and material information.

The power of Google!! Anyway, I stand corrected.

Time to post – I apologize for these tome-sized posts – I have been struggling with how to post pictures with the appropriate section, so have been holding back (also, my Picture Manager keeps crashing and my 7” screen makes it impossible to move the pics around). I am going to do my best, however, and am going to try to post more often.