Going from the "mucho fiesta" of Barcelona to the "joie de vivre" of the South of France is a whole new culture shock. First of all, after speaking "piquito" Spanish for several weeks, it's very hard to turn "gracias" into "merci" and "si" into "oui". When you think France, you may think Paris, but it's a melting pot similar to any big city and some French culture gets lost in the shuffle. My experience in Provence was very different from that of Paris and it dipped me into the true way of the French people. I stayed with a wonderful family, ate authentic food and had a personal tour of some of the most beautiful places in all of France.
Starting at the train station - where else? - Nicole and I had become such pros at moving around Betty and Godzilla, her large suitcase and mine, respectively. With an occasional hand from a stranger and a keen eye for "asensuer", which is a lift, we were moving around quickly and almost gracefully. I had finally mastered gaining momentum and swiveling, pushing and pulling my beast-of-a-bag. It truly has become a friend, albeit it's a love-hate relationship, on this journey. Off the train in Marseille, we successfully found the big red "M" for Metro and "hopped" on our line to our hotel. We had truly grown from our initial Metro experience, which was so hellacious that we ended up wasting so many euros on taxis to and from anywhere with our luggage. At this point, we had some real confidence and made it perfectly to our hotel. Yes, a "hotel". Alas!
I had forgotten what a television even looked like, but the sight of it was such a wonderful surprise. After drinks and some amazing Indian food, I ended up watching movies "en francais" for hours into the night. We woke up and packed up for the umpteenth time and made our way downstairs to meet up with Frederic, our pal from Paris. He had spent the last 10 days working on a cruise ship and was going to take us with him to his family's home in Cuers, France, a short 1 hour train ride from Marseille. Fred's dad met us at the Toulon train station in his compact Peugeot - a French brand whose symbol is a sideways roaring lion. Fred made introductions and we gave "deux bisous" - double kisses - to our French host Jean-Pierre. Nicole and I would come to call him Robbie D because he was a spitting image for Robert DeNiro. We learned that in France you kiss to the right first, opposite of Spain and involved two kisses less than the Paris standard of 4, which just takes too damn long if you are meeting more than two people at a time.
Arriving at Le Chateua de Beuiller, we realized how special this opportunity truly was. Lost in translation, we had no idea that Fred's parents had an entire guest apartment underneath their house, complete with a kitchen, wash machine, terrace and private bath. We sighed a huge sigh of relief as we realized that our bags were in ONE place for the next 10 full days. We kicked off the first night with the traditional 5 course meal. In France they start with the Appetizers, which is considered a cocktail and light snack, such as olives, bread and dips. The Entree, which in our culture is the main dish, is actually the pre-meal dish including Chauceterie (cured and hung meat), Ratatouille and other cold items. The Main Dish is typically pasta or veggies and meat. AFTER dinner they have cheese...So much cheese. Usually at least 3 different cheeses ranging from stinky and soft to odorless and rock-hard. After cheese, they serve dessert, which on our first night, I prepared a toasted-coconut & ice cream dish. When everyone is stuffed and relaxed, it is time to close it all with a night cap, decaf espresso, infusion, or tea (the, en francais). Nicole and I most often chose the Digestiv Infusion which perfectly soothes the tummy after all of that rich food. Eating dinner with Jean-Pierre, his lovely wife Evelyn and Fred was one of the best things I experienced. We sat with a huge English-French dictionary on the table and often drew pictures on napkins and played charades to decipher the unknown words.
Fred took us to some wonderful places. We spent a lot of time in the Peugeot and Nicole and I took turns sleeping in the backseat. Fred drove us up and down winding, mountain roads and stopped at the perfect places to snap photos. We had picnics on top of mountains, kayaked through the beautiful lake of Verdon, saw some extraordinary country-side, and dove into the southern french culture as if we had been there our whole lives. People mistakenly took us for French when we spit out complete sentences and when we let them know we didn't speak much French, they immediately wanted to know more about where we were from and where we were headed. With Fred as our personal travel translator and cultural liaison, we felt completely at ease and were able to see the nontraditional, non-tourist locations that were more private, more authentic and more beautiful.
Towards the end of our 10 days, we were sad to say goodbye, but were ready to move on to the plans that awaited us in Genova, Italy. Jean-Pierre and Evelyn sent us off with numerous recipes, tiny souvenirs, and an open-invitation to return at anytime. Saying goodbye to them was hard and we knew that we could never begin to show our full appreciation for the time they showed us. Being the gentlemen he is, Fred awoke early and packed up the Peugeot with our bags and saw us all the way on to our train at the station. He stood on the platform and waved goodbye as we waved from the window, just like a typical movie scene. We had made a true friend and knew that we would probably never see him again. Definitely one of the best, yet hardest things about traveling is meeting wonderful people from all over the world that genuinely change your perspective and open your eyes to so many new things. Fred, Evelyn and Jean-Pierre are undoubtedly people who I could never thank enough and will never forget.
