A friend asked me recently (via Yahoo chat, one of my new ways to spend time catching up with people across the ocean) what I had learned during my time here in France. He asked because he had also taken a year off, a sabbatical he called it, and it had been a time for him to discover what it was that he really wanted to do with his life.
There is a tradition for ministers and academics to take sabbaticals, giving them time for reflection, research and writing, which are valued (and demanded, often) by the institutions that grant them that time off. For those other random folks like me that plan for and take a year off (forced unemployment is not the same thing, presumably unexpected and therefore anxiety-producing) the time for reflection often leads to a revised approach to one’s life – at least that’s what I had heard from those who had taken the time.
What have I learned about myself? It was not too hard to come up with some answers for my friend. I have spent much time thinking and reflecting on my life over the past eight months. I have also spent time talking with my friend Cynthia, who is trained as a “Life Coach.” She has been encouraging me to ask myself, What is my mission in life? For a religious person, this is not an uncomfortable question to ask. But it’s not always easy to answer.
There are plenty of things that I have known about myself that have been simply reinforced here. But I am still learning things about myself at 46 (almost 47!), which I have to think is a good thing. And I have been in relationships this year that have tested my ideas about what it is I want in my future, and challenged me to think about life differently.
My life reflection here has been a journey, and just when I think I have answers one day, the next day may bring a whole other perspective.
So here are some things I have learned about myself, including the spiritual, the personal, and the professional. With some detail, as appropriate, and in no particular order:
I love the ocean. As a small child, I spent summer days on Long Island Sound, but at age 7 I started going to summer camps, and experienced water in small and large lakes for the next 12 years. My two college summers working on an island off the coast of New Hampshire reacquainted me with the ocean, and it’s been a continuing love affair ever since. My summers with my friends in a beach house at Rehoboth, Delaware were idyllic for me, even if I had learned by that age that I cannot spend too much time in the sun. Spending hours on the beach in Nice has been a joy, and by now I know that 20 SPF is not too much protection! And it doesn’t matter to me what time of year it is, which I already knew, because our family Thanksgivings at my aunt and uncle’s beach house in Bethany Beach, Delaware have been times of pure joy of being near the ocean.
I need to be around people. I knew this, but I have had the opportunity to do more observing of myself and others, and spend time thinking about what makes me tick. This has implications for me, as it is helpful to know that I shouldn’t be starting a business that I would be doing alone at home. Having an EBay business would not be my choice. That wouldn’t make me happy. The fact that I have worked in large corporations or organizations throughout my professional career – and stayed happy there – is a good indicator.
I feel better when I am contributing to society in some way. I have missed not being part of the action during the financial crisis. I loved working at the Securities and Exchange Commission as a young lawyer; I felt I was truly part of the mission of protecting the public investor. I enjoyed being a consultant working at some of the largest investment banks in the US, and feeling like I was contributing to making their businesses more efficient, or better, or at least more compliant with the nation’s securities laws.
I am a good friend.
I love to entertain. Ask the folks who have visited me here in Nice this year. (Or those who attended my Winter Solstice Parties over the past four years.)
I love to push myself. When I was invited to join the track team in college, I had no idea how competitive I was. I learned pretty quickly – it was barely six months later that I first collapsed on a cross country course from heat exhaustion. (It was not the last time, unfortunately, but I have learned that lesson!) I have continued to enter road races since college, and have loved in my 40’s to still be running fast, fast enough to win an occasional small town race. One of my goals here in France was to run races – and train to go faster. I prefer to train alone, and it takes a pretty strong wish to excel to push yourself to the point of exhaustion – but my persistence was rewarded with some fast 10km races over the past six months – and my fastest to date on April 19th at the Nice Semi-Marathon.
I love a challenge. Moving to France was one of the biggest challenges I’ve taken on in a long time. I had lots of good guidance, but at the end of the day, I was the one who found an apartment, who learned how to read labels on the different foods in the supermarket, who had to deal with my banker and my lost credit card, who found a church and the opportunity to sing, and figured out the public transportation system so I could get myself to races in Grasse and Monaco (outside of Nice).
Money is important, but not the most important thing in the world. Making money was (almost) the most important thing to me over the past twenty years or so. I lived with a man for ten years who didn’t make that much money, but who made sure I was working all the time (not exactly positive reinforcement). Being relaxed about not working, and realizing that you only need to make a lot of money if you spend a lot of money, has taken me some time. Knowing how to budget, and assiduously tracking every single euro and dollar I have spent here, has kept me sane (though I know those particular activities would drive some people crazy). Having a safety net of people who love you and can help care for you is priceless.
When he doesn’t call, it really does mean he isn’t into you. Enough said.
It is possible to live in the moment – but it never hurts to plan.
Hard work brings rewards. Although I have had to learn to relax about the fact that I am not presently a wage earner, the entire reason I have been able to spend a year here in France is because of that manic attention to my work life. Being a good saver helps too.
I have an enormous circle of friends, loosely defined, but I still call them my friends. This year I’ve had the luxury of being able to spend time on social networking sites, including Linked In, to keep in touch with my professional contacts (helpful when you are going to be looking for a job soon), and Facebook (thanks to my friend Willard, who encouraged me to join), through which I’ve connected to a whole group of high school friends that I had lost touch with over the past 25 years. The opportunity to chat real time with these folks, and to keep them up with my life through pictures and random comments, has been wonderful. I continue to be amazed at how big my circle is – but after attending four schools and working in consulting for 10 years, and being constantly involved in organizations, you realize how small the world really is. And realize how the Internet has changed things, like keeping in touch with people, forever.
A glass of wine every day is good for your health. The French and Italians know this from centuries of eating and drinking and being healthy. There just are very few really fat people in these countries. And they don’t over-drink either. Another good lesson.
You need to be open to, and provide the opportunity for, good things to happen to you. One of the joys I have had here in Nice is becoming part of the Choeur Gospel, a lovely small group of singers associated with the Eglise Reformee. I began attending the church in September, and it was in October that the woman who sat in front of me turned around and told me she wanted me to join the choir. I'd been looking around for a chorus, but if I hadn't been sitting there in that church, and singing behind Odette, I might not have had this great group of French friends.
I don’t need much to live on – things are not that important to me. I am living in a furnished apartment in Nice. What I brought with me from the States is a fairly short list: a set of sharp knives, a wine bottle opener (gift from my brother), two coffee mugs (a Goldman Sachs travel mug, and one from Barnard), a bunch of family pictures to have reminders of them around the apartment, my clarinet (a late retrieval from my storage unit in DC), and my computer. I haven’t bought much here either: a cookie sheet and spatula to make cookies, a hair dryer, and towels, linens and a new pillow for the apartment (it did not come with bedclothes or towels). Of the things I have considered but not bought: a printer, saving the world more needless paper production, and a bicycle – although it would have been fun to explore the area on two wheels, I just haven’t found the one I wanted at the price I was ready to pay.
I love to travel. Surprise.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Easter Week in France
Two years ago, I treated my sister to five days in Italy - an April birthday present that enabled her to spend some time with her daughter Chelsea, who was attending high school outside of Rome that year. We flew into Rome on Maundy Thursday morning and left on Easter Monday, driving first north to Bologna, then the next day, west to Genoa, and then back south through Tuscany to Florence, finishing back in Rome. It was a great trip (good bed and breakfast experiences, great pasta and wine dinners, and lots of walking); one of the highlights was experiencing Easter Sunday in Florence (Firenze) in the Piazza de Duomo (the plaza in front of the grand cathedral in Florence). The Easter Sunday service took place in the Duomo (of which we caught a few minutes), and afterwards, there was a fantastic fireworks display in the plaza, followed by a parade of all the participants in the service as they left the church. It was my first and exuberant taste of an European Easter, with its ubiquitous chocolates and religious pageantry.
My first Easter in France was a reliving of some of the pageantry and chocolates, but with a new and unexpected experience along the way. Easter week begins with Palm Sunday, and that day I found myself conducting my choir, the Choeur Gospel, in the service at the L’Église Réformée! This was not on my radar screen even five days before - for just at choir rehearsal on the Wednesday evening prior, we learned that our participation had been requested in the Palm Sunday service. As my blog readers might imagine, this did not phase the group much, as we had just performed a concert two weeks before on March 21st. But when the group learned that the conductor was not going to be able to be at the church service, they momentarily panicked. But Gottfried, bless his heart, turned and pointed to me - I would be his substitute for Sunday's performance! Although it made perfect sense for him to ask me (well, he didn't really ask me, but, whatever), as I was the only musically-trained singer in the group, nonetheless, I was flattered and humbled. And suddenly nervous.
My friends in the chorus were completely at ease with Gottfried's decision, but they were a little nervous too, and insisted that Gottfried let me practice leading them in the songs we rehearsed that night. And he coached me too, which was helpful. But it was remarkably easy, once I remembered how to conduct (I had taken conducting lessons in my musical past, and conducted my a cappella group, the Bacchantae, for two years in college). But I went home that night determined to practice, and get it right for Sunday. Luckily I had already memorized most of the songs we were going to sing, so it was a matter of getting my hand and voice in sync so that I would be leading, not confusing, the singers! I walked around Nice over the next few days, conducting and singing to myself the songs for Sunday...
Sunday morning I arrived at the church early, and found the woman pastor in the Nave, preparing for the service. We had been alerted that this would be a service involving the children, similar to the service the Sunday before Christmas when we had last performed. I introduced myself to her as the subsitute for Gottfried, so she walked me through the service program and showed me the three points during the service that we were being asked to perform. All of a sudden I had to do some programming; fitting in the pieces we were going to sing in the right places during the service. In the end, with approval from my singers, we sang "Jacob's Ladder" and "All Over the World" after the processing of the Palms, then "Lord, You are the Light" after the sermon, and then "Heaven is a Beautiful Place" and "The Blessing of Aaron (Seven-fold Amen)" at the end of the service. We had enough time to rehearse before the service, and everyone was up for the day - it all worked really well. "All Over the World" is a foot-thumping kind of piece, and I had the crowd clapping during the song, which helped keep the children, who were clustered at our feet as we stood singing at the front of the church, engaged.
Before the service began, I realized I had my camera in my knapsack with me, so I took some pictures during the service, but then thought it would be great to have some pictures of me conducting too. I saw my friend Suzanne on the other side of the church, and I knew that she would be great about taking some photos if I asked her. So in the middle of the service (at an appropriate break), I walked around to her pew and handed her the camera and asked her if she would be so kind to take some photos. As I thought she would be, she said yes with no questions. Yet another moment in time where I was feeling surrounded by friends! And later, after the service, I discovered happily that my friend Priscilla had accepted my invitation to come hear the group, and was sitting in the service without my knowing it that morning. Surrounded by friends that morning, that I was!
That Palm Sunday Service at L’Église Réformée did not really qualify for pageantry; I found pageantry at the Cathédral Sainte Réparate in the Old Town (Vielle Ville) on Holy Thursday. I like to participate in the Catholic services sometimes for high Holy Days; I went to the Cathédral for the "Office de la Dernière Cène," the office (mass) that celebrates the Last Supper, also known as the Service of Light, as at the end of the service all the lights are extinguished except for one, the one that burns as a reminder of Christ's love. The St. Réparate cathedral is quite lovely, a several hundred year old building, I'm sure, and the Maȋtrise de la Cathédrale and his equipe (worship team) were all dressed up in lovely long gold-brocaded robes for the occasion. They even performed the ritual foot washing, albeit a bit staged: 8 people had been designated to sit on stools up near the communion table and have their feet washed by the Maȋtrise himself, while the rest of us watched. The Communion Service is also very ritualistic, and the chanting was punctuated by the clanging of bells, which has some significance of which I am unfamiliar. (Priscilla and I had heard a lovely and moving polyphonic arrangement of the service performed by a choir back in September, when we had attended the Rencontres Polyphonique in Calvi, Corsica.) There was quite a bit of music during the service, performed by a choir that was not dressed up for the occasion (but then the Catholics tend not to be dresser-uppers for their masses). The singing was ragged, although the conductor was doing his best to keep them all together, but the average age of his singer was roughly 60, and my guess, they were all untrained. The thought occurred to me to walk up to the conductor and ask if I could join in (it would have helped).
My encounter with chocolates came about in a more mundane way - on Monday, when I entered Carrefour, the huge superstore I shop in these days, I was confronted by an enormous display of chocolate bunnies. Well, that's what struck me, but once I started walking down the aisle, the Easter chocolate theme carried on for as long as the eye could see. I took out my camera and took some photos - there was just such an abundance! On my way home from Carrefour, I passed by a local artisan chocolatier's store, around the corner from my apartment, and took pictures of his front window - beautiful baskets of chocolates decorated the front pane. I continued throughout the week to window gaze at Patisseries and Chocolatiers around town, the enormous displays of expensive (!) chocolates - rabbits, eggs, cakes, whatever - were beautiful and mouth-watering. I bought a few Lindt bunnies for my Easter Monday guests, Uli and Utta, but refrained from self-indulgence - the visual indulgence was plenty.
Easter Sunday this morning at my church was a more subdued affair than last week's service, but it was a full house - extraordinarily multi-cultural too - and we did lots of singing, which I always enjoy. Communion was served too, and the circle we make around the communion table today was as large as the church itself, and wound down the center aisle too. It was good to see my friends in church; I sat next to one of my fellow choristers and her daughter, and kissed greetings to several people after the service. In the courtyard, I saw an American I had met last week; he's studying French for a month in nearby Villefranche-sur-mer. Standing with him was another young woman, who it turns out is at the University of Nice on a semester abroad from the University of Maryland - she lives in Silver Spring. VERY small world! I'll have lunch next Sunday with John before he returns to Texas at the end of the month; Rebecca and I will meet for lunch after church on Mother's Day. I love expanding my circle of friends here.
Bon Pâques!
My first Easter in France was a reliving of some of the pageantry and chocolates, but with a new and unexpected experience along the way. Easter week begins with Palm Sunday, and that day I found myself conducting my choir, the Choeur Gospel, in the service at the L’Église Réformée! This was not on my radar screen even five days before - for just at choir rehearsal on the Wednesday evening prior, we learned that our participation had been requested in the Palm Sunday service. As my blog readers might imagine, this did not phase the group much, as we had just performed a concert two weeks before on March 21st. But when the group learned that the conductor was not going to be able to be at the church service, they momentarily panicked. But Gottfried, bless his heart, turned and pointed to me - I would be his substitute for Sunday's performance! Although it made perfect sense for him to ask me (well, he didn't really ask me, but, whatever), as I was the only musically-trained singer in the group, nonetheless, I was flattered and humbled. And suddenly nervous.
My friends in the chorus were completely at ease with Gottfried's decision, but they were a little nervous too, and insisted that Gottfried let me practice leading them in the songs we rehearsed that night. And he coached me too, which was helpful. But it was remarkably easy, once I remembered how to conduct (I had taken conducting lessons in my musical past, and conducted my a cappella group, the Bacchantae, for two years in college). But I went home that night determined to practice, and get it right for Sunday. Luckily I had already memorized most of the songs we were going to sing, so it was a matter of getting my hand and voice in sync so that I would be leading, not confusing, the singers! I walked around Nice over the next few days, conducting and singing to myself the songs for Sunday...
Sunday morning I arrived at the church early, and found the woman pastor in the Nave, preparing for the service. We had been alerted that this would be a service involving the children, similar to the service the Sunday before Christmas when we had last performed. I introduced myself to her as the subsitute for Gottfried, so she walked me through the service program and showed me the three points during the service that we were being asked to perform. All of a sudden I had to do some programming; fitting in the pieces we were going to sing in the right places during the service. In the end, with approval from my singers, we sang "Jacob's Ladder" and "All Over the World" after the processing of the Palms, then "Lord, You are the Light" after the sermon, and then "Heaven is a Beautiful Place" and "The Blessing of Aaron (Seven-fold Amen)" at the end of the service. We had enough time to rehearse before the service, and everyone was up for the day - it all worked really well. "All Over the World" is a foot-thumping kind of piece, and I had the crowd clapping during the song, which helped keep the children, who were clustered at our feet as we stood singing at the front of the church, engaged.
Before the service began, I realized I had my camera in my knapsack with me, so I took some pictures during the service, but then thought it would be great to have some pictures of me conducting too. I saw my friend Suzanne on the other side of the church, and I knew that she would be great about taking some photos if I asked her. So in the middle of the service (at an appropriate break), I walked around to her pew and handed her the camera and asked her if she would be so kind to take some photos. As I thought she would be, she said yes with no questions. Yet another moment in time where I was feeling surrounded by friends! And later, after the service, I discovered happily that my friend Priscilla had accepted my invitation to come hear the group, and was sitting in the service without my knowing it that morning. Surrounded by friends that morning, that I was!
That Palm Sunday Service at L’Église Réformée did not really qualify for pageantry; I found pageantry at the Cathédral Sainte Réparate in the Old Town (Vielle Ville) on Holy Thursday. I like to participate in the Catholic services sometimes for high Holy Days; I went to the Cathédral for the "Office de la Dernière Cène," the office (mass) that celebrates the Last Supper, also known as the Service of Light, as at the end of the service all the lights are extinguished except for one, the one that burns as a reminder of Christ's love. The St. Réparate cathedral is quite lovely, a several hundred year old building, I'm sure, and the Maȋtrise de la Cathédrale and his equipe (worship team) were all dressed up in lovely long gold-brocaded robes for the occasion. They even performed the ritual foot washing, albeit a bit staged: 8 people had been designated to sit on stools up near the communion table and have their feet washed by the Maȋtrise himself, while the rest of us watched. The Communion Service is also very ritualistic, and the chanting was punctuated by the clanging of bells, which has some significance of which I am unfamiliar. (Priscilla and I had heard a lovely and moving polyphonic arrangement of the service performed by a choir back in September, when we had attended the Rencontres Polyphonique in Calvi, Corsica.) There was quite a bit of music during the service, performed by a choir that was not dressed up for the occasion (but then the Catholics tend not to be dresser-uppers for their masses). The singing was ragged, although the conductor was doing his best to keep them all together, but the average age of his singer was roughly 60, and my guess, they were all untrained. The thought occurred to me to walk up to the conductor and ask if I could join in (it would have helped).
My encounter with chocolates came about in a more mundane way - on Monday, when I entered Carrefour, the huge superstore I shop in these days, I was confronted by an enormous display of chocolate bunnies. Well, that's what struck me, but once I started walking down the aisle, the Easter chocolate theme carried on for as long as the eye could see. I took out my camera and took some photos - there was just such an abundance! On my way home from Carrefour, I passed by a local artisan chocolatier's store, around the corner from my apartment, and took pictures of his front window - beautiful baskets of chocolates decorated the front pane. I continued throughout the week to window gaze at Patisseries and Chocolatiers around town, the enormous displays of expensive (!) chocolates - rabbits, eggs, cakes, whatever - were beautiful and mouth-watering. I bought a few Lindt bunnies for my Easter Monday guests, Uli and Utta, but refrained from self-indulgence - the visual indulgence was plenty.
Easter Sunday this morning at my church was a more subdued affair than last week's service, but it was a full house - extraordinarily multi-cultural too - and we did lots of singing, which I always enjoy. Communion was served too, and the circle we make around the communion table today was as large as the church itself, and wound down the center aisle too. It was good to see my friends in church; I sat next to one of my fellow choristers and her daughter, and kissed greetings to several people after the service. In the courtyard, I saw an American I had met last week; he's studying French for a month in nearby Villefranche-sur-mer. Standing with him was another young woman, who it turns out is at the University of Nice on a semester abroad from the University of Maryland - she lives in Silver Spring. VERY small world! I'll have lunch next Sunday with John before he returns to Texas at the end of the month; Rebecca and I will meet for lunch after church on Mother's Day. I love expanding my circle of friends here.
Bon Pâques!
Friday, April 3, 2009
Obama in France
Can't miss the opportunity to let my US friends know that President Obama and the First Lady made a huge hit here in France today. They arrived in Strasbourg, in the northwest of France, on the German border, for the NATO meeting going on there. I don't know whether that meeting has been getting the coverage that the G20 meeting in London received, but there is a tent city set up outside of Strasbourg, housing the many thousands of protesters who descended on the town. There were many clashes with the police yesterday - these protesters are against French participation in NATO (although apparently polls show that most French are OK with it), against the wars, and many other things, I'm sure.
The Obamas were met in Strasbourg by President Sarkozy and his first lady, who was conspicuously absent in London. The papers tattled that Carla Bruni-Sarkozy was being nice and giving Michelle Obama the stage in London. For heaven's sake! The two of them, Michelle and Carla, made a striking pair in the pictures I saw - I noticed that Carla was wearing flats so that she wouldn't tower over her very short husband; Michelle has been keeping her heels pretty low too, but she still seemed to tower over Carla.
The crowds were going wild over President Obama's arrival in Strasbourg - it was fun to see the adoration again - the campaign in the US seems now sooooo long ago. Barack even got to do a "town hall-style" event in an stadium in Strasbourg - he and Michelle looked like they were enjoying themselves in the cheers from the crowd. Life in Washington has been a little strained lately, what with the financial crisis, the war in Afghanistan, health care reform, cabinet secretaries taking so long to get confirmed by the Senate... Nothing like adrenalin from a crowd to pick you up again.
Ah yes, good to be an American in Europe again!
The Obamas were met in Strasbourg by President Sarkozy and his first lady, who was conspicuously absent in London. The papers tattled that Carla Bruni-Sarkozy was being nice and giving Michelle Obama the stage in London. For heaven's sake! The two of them, Michelle and Carla, made a striking pair in the pictures I saw - I noticed that Carla was wearing flats so that she wouldn't tower over her very short husband; Michelle has been keeping her heels pretty low too, but she still seemed to tower over Carla.
The crowds were going wild over President Obama's arrival in Strasbourg - it was fun to see the adoration again - the campaign in the US seems now sooooo long ago. Barack even got to do a "town hall-style" event in an stadium in Strasbourg - he and Michelle looked like they were enjoying themselves in the cheers from the crowd. Life in Washington has been a little strained lately, what with the financial crisis, the war in Afghanistan, health care reform, cabinet secretaries taking so long to get confirmed by the Senate... Nothing like adrenalin from a crowd to pick you up again.
Ah yes, good to be an American in Europe again!
Socialism's Impact on Culture
You wouldn't know it from the title of this post, but I'm going to write very favorably about my experiences of enjoying culture in France.
The culture of which I have been availing myself most here is the musical life around Nice. And a rich musical life it is. I have attended student concerts at the Conservatory of Nice, Philharmonic concerts in the city's opera house, chamber music concerts in government buildings and local churches, and orchestra performances outside the city, in nearby towns.
The opportunities to hear a wide range of music are just as plentiful as you would find in an American city of this size (650,000 population). But Nice is not Baltimore, and especially not the Baltimore that just lost its venerable opera company in the wake of the credit crisis. Because Nice is in a well-funded department in France, and the Conseil-Général of the Alpes-Maritimes (06) has resources to provide for the cultural life of the peoples living here. The Conseil-Général provides funding for musical groups and institutions around the city - I don't think I've been to any performance that hasn't had the logo for the government arm somewhere in the program or advertising.
And because of that funding, admission to concerts and events is frequently free, and rarely more than 20 euros. I have even found a movie theater in town that is supported by the Conseil-Général, with 2 euro admission for random, classic movies (enough of them in English with French subtitles to make it a fun find for me). I have paid 7 euros to sit in "paradis" - the highest balcony - in the Opera House (the orchestra tickets are in the 30 euro range); 10 euros for chamber music concerts, and attended a whole weekend of free classical performances (vocal, chamber, orchestral) in the city's performance/conference center. My local church even has had some wonderful chamber music performances (the last I heard was a performance of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" by a young and very talented pianist) for 10 euros. I can't think of a concert that I have attended in the US in the past five years that has cost less than 15 dollars. Even the cheap seats for the Cathedral Choral Society's Christmas Concerts in Washington, DC are 20 dollars.
I have no idea what the politics of being supported by the government so generously means to the musical society here in Nice; in America those involved with music generally wish there was more government support, but those who are not, wish there was less. And, of course, France is a much smaller place than the US. But for the concert-goer here in Nice, I have only good things to say about socialism. It's certainly enriched my musical life here.
The culture of which I have been availing myself most here is the musical life around Nice. And a rich musical life it is. I have attended student concerts at the Conservatory of Nice, Philharmonic concerts in the city's opera house, chamber music concerts in government buildings and local churches, and orchestra performances outside the city, in nearby towns.
The opportunities to hear a wide range of music are just as plentiful as you would find in an American city of this size (650,000 population). But Nice is not Baltimore, and especially not the Baltimore that just lost its venerable opera company in the wake of the credit crisis. Because Nice is in a well-funded department in France, and the Conseil-Général of the Alpes-Maritimes (06) has resources to provide for the cultural life of the peoples living here. The Conseil-Général provides funding for musical groups and institutions around the city - I don't think I've been to any performance that hasn't had the logo for the government arm somewhere in the program or advertising.
And because of that funding, admission to concerts and events is frequently free, and rarely more than 20 euros. I have even found a movie theater in town that is supported by the Conseil-Général, with 2 euro admission for random, classic movies (enough of them in English with French subtitles to make it a fun find for me). I have paid 7 euros to sit in "paradis" - the highest balcony - in the Opera House (the orchestra tickets are in the 30 euro range); 10 euros for chamber music concerts, and attended a whole weekend of free classical performances (vocal, chamber, orchestral) in the city's performance/conference center. My local church even has had some wonderful chamber music performances (the last I heard was a performance of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" by a young and very talented pianist) for 10 euros. I can't think of a concert that I have attended in the US in the past five years that has cost less than 15 dollars. Even the cheap seats for the Cathedral Choral Society's Christmas Concerts in Washington, DC are 20 dollars.
I have no idea what the politics of being supported by the government so generously means to the musical society here in Nice; in America those involved with music generally wish there was more government support, but those who are not, wish there was less. And, of course, France is a much smaller place than the US. But for the concert-goer here in Nice, I have only good things to say about socialism. It's certainly enriched my musical life here.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Copenhagen: From Bikes to Business
Last week I spent a few days in Copenhagen. The last time I was in that city was 1972, when I was 10, travelling through Germany, Denmark and Sweden with my family, visiting various foreign exchange students who had spent time in our home in the US. What I remembered about Denmark was Tivoli Garden and the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen, and Legoland, found in Billund, Jutland, on the mainland of Denmark.
Rather than a tourist visit, my shuttle to the island city on the Bering Sea was to spend some time at a business conference, Financial Information Summit 2009, sponsored by Inside Market Data and Inside Reference Data, two industry magazines targeting the financial services industry. It was also an opportunity to meet a member of the European Central Bank, who is presently working on the bank's response to the global financial crisis, and a potential employer for me.
In between conference sessions, I got a chance to take a quick walk downtown to reconnect with the memories of my youth. I put on my hat and gloves (glad I remembered them) and headed out in the biting wind with a map in hand. I found Tivoli Garden quite easily, it is an outdoors amusement garden in the center of town, but, no surprise, it was not open. It opens on April 4 (as Legoland will, according to its website). I took a few pictures, and then followed my map, to see the Town Hall, wander down a pedestrian way filled with the typical tourist stores, and then to the canals, to see the Parliament building, and the Bourse (Stock Market).
I found some churches (Kirke) along the way, and saw plenty of bicyclists on the streets. Despite the biting wind, many riders were gloveless and hatless - it must feel like spring to them! The sun was out, although there were snow squalls later in the afternoon. I found a coffee store along the way to enjoy a latte (spending 36 Danish Krone on it! I don't want to know how much that was.), but didn't see any Starbucks downtown (there was one in the airport - paid 40 DK for that latte). A curiousity for me was the number of hot dog carts downtown; clearly a common take away lunch for the natives. The desk clerk at the hotel told me that a typical Danish dessert was ice cream in a waffle - but we have those in the States too, so I demurred.
As I headed back to the hotel, I got a little lost on a small piece of land surrounded by canals, called Christianshavn, presumably after Hans Christian Anderson, but following my map, I discovered the small park across from the hotel (which would have been a great place to run outside; I had worked out in the hotel fitness center). I never made it to see the Little Mermaid, but having seen it once, figured that it would live on in my memory. Besides, my nephew, Nathan, had visited Copenhagen with my parents on an Elderhostel Grandparents/Grandkids tour several years ago, and had brought me back a souvenir of his visit, the Little Mermaid in a bottle. She lives on.
The conference itself was a wonderful opportunity to get back into the mode of networking and talking business - something I've been a little out of in the past few months. And I put on a suit! It's been a while since I did that too. I met several folks from London with whom I will keep in touch, and hope to continue conversations with the ECB, in hopes of giving them a hand with their project too.
In my previous post, I mused on the fact that it seems my adventure has morphed into my real life. That is certainly true about my move to France, and living and creating a life in Nice. But I have a new adventure, that of deciding what the next chapter of my work life will be. It started in January with writing an article on the financial crisis, and the conference in Copenhagen was an outgrowth of that project. I have other irons in the fire; I'm keeping an eye out for opportunities, and will continue to pursue them. Where will I land? I have no idea at this moment, but this adventure is just beginning.
Rather than a tourist visit, my shuttle to the island city on the Bering Sea was to spend some time at a business conference, Financial Information Summit 2009, sponsored by Inside Market Data and Inside Reference Data, two industry magazines targeting the financial services industry. It was also an opportunity to meet a member of the European Central Bank, who is presently working on the bank's response to the global financial crisis, and a potential employer for me.
In between conference sessions, I got a chance to take a quick walk downtown to reconnect with the memories of my youth. I put on my hat and gloves (glad I remembered them) and headed out in the biting wind with a map in hand. I found Tivoli Garden quite easily, it is an outdoors amusement garden in the center of town, but, no surprise, it was not open. It opens on April 4 (as Legoland will, according to its website). I took a few pictures, and then followed my map, to see the Town Hall, wander down a pedestrian way filled with the typical tourist stores, and then to the canals, to see the Parliament building, and the Bourse (Stock Market).
I found some churches (Kirke) along the way, and saw plenty of bicyclists on the streets. Despite the biting wind, many riders were gloveless and hatless - it must feel like spring to them! The sun was out, although there were snow squalls later in the afternoon. I found a coffee store along the way to enjoy a latte (spending 36 Danish Krone on it! I don't want to know how much that was.), but didn't see any Starbucks downtown (there was one in the airport - paid 40 DK for that latte). A curiousity for me was the number of hot dog carts downtown; clearly a common take away lunch for the natives. The desk clerk at the hotel told me that a typical Danish dessert was ice cream in a waffle - but we have those in the States too, so I demurred.
As I headed back to the hotel, I got a little lost on a small piece of land surrounded by canals, called Christianshavn, presumably after Hans Christian Anderson, but following my map, I discovered the small park across from the hotel (which would have been a great place to run outside; I had worked out in the hotel fitness center). I never made it to see the Little Mermaid, but having seen it once, figured that it would live on in my memory. Besides, my nephew, Nathan, had visited Copenhagen with my parents on an Elderhostel Grandparents/Grandkids tour several years ago, and had brought me back a souvenir of his visit, the Little Mermaid in a bottle. She lives on.
The conference itself was a wonderful opportunity to get back into the mode of networking and talking business - something I've been a little out of in the past few months. And I put on a suit! It's been a while since I did that too. I met several folks from London with whom I will keep in touch, and hope to continue conversations with the ECB, in hopes of giving them a hand with their project too.
In my previous post, I mused on the fact that it seems my adventure has morphed into my real life. That is certainly true about my move to France, and living and creating a life in Nice. But I have a new adventure, that of deciding what the next chapter of my work life will be. It started in January with writing an article on the financial crisis, and the conference in Copenhagen was an outgrowth of that project. I have other irons in the fire; I'm keeping an eye out for opportunities, and will continue to pursue them. Where will I land? I have no idea at this moment, but this adventure is just beginning.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
This Feels Like Home
As many of my readers know, this month marks the fewest number of postings from me since I began my blog last July. There are several reasons for this, but I think the main one is that my adventure has finally become my home. I have settled into my life here, a life that my family and friends in the US would find remarkably similar to the one I lived in Arlington, Virginia. And this month was a good indicator of that change.
Last weekend was a typical "Ari" weekend, representing the things I like to do best. On Saturday, I had a concert with my chorus, the Choeur Gospel from the Eglise Reformee I attend here in Nice. On Sunday, I ran a 10 kilometer race in nearby Monaco. Both events were enough to get me out of my "homesickness" that I'd been experiencing the previous week - and a reminder that I have a home here too in Nice.
Concert - Choeur Gospel
Here's the invitation I sent to my French friends, letting them know about my Saturday concert:
* * *
J’aimerais t’inviter pour le Concert Choral le samedi prochain, le 21 mars, à 15h00, à Sanctuaire du Sacré Coeur, 22 rue de France, Nice (centre ville). Il y sera quatre choeurs qui chanteront dans le concert; je chanterai avec le Choeur Gospel de L’Église Réformée. C’est un petit choeur, pas trés fort, mais trés amiable!
Ce concert est au profit de la recherche médicale en ophtalmologie soutenue par l’association Retina France. Prix de l’entrée: 8€.
J’espère que tu viens voir cette soirée musicale!
* * *
The concert was taken a little blithely by my chorus, as this fundraiser for Retina France was not exactly our idea. It was interesting to watch my group (about which I have blogged a few times) prepare for this public performance. At our rehearsal two weeks before the concert, there was a fairly small group of us, as several members were out of town or on vacation. It was at that rehearsal that two women organizing the concert appeared, apparently to make sure we were going to be OK (at least that was my assessment). I was a little apprehensive about that myself; there were 12 of us at that rehearsal, and the conductor ended up having to sing tenor, because there were no tenors at that rehearsal. We were acceptable, but were not going to win any ovations with our performance, I thought.
One week later, I was amazed as four singers appeared at rehearsal that I had thought were not going to be joining us - three of them men, two of them tenors! The guys had all been singing with us throughout the year, but I had thought would not be around for the concert. Another young woman showed up who hadn't attended rehearsals since December; she lip-synced through the rehearsal and then didn't show up at the concert, no surprise. But this change of events was heartening to me, and I felt better about the upcoming performance. We rehearsed well that night, and planned to reconvene at 2 p.m. before the 3 p.m. concert on Saturday.
I had been alerted by my fellow soprano, Micheline, that the concert had received almost no publicity, although posters for the event had been distributed to us. So it was not too big a surprise on Saturday afternoon to find that the audience in this lovely Catholic church was tiny. The other two choirs were quite large, about 40 singers each (the four choir, a children's choir, had pulled out of the concert at the last minute); one was from a Catholic church in Antibes, the other was from this parish, it seemed. Our group of 14 singers seemed tiny in comparison. But our three choirs easily were double the size of the audience.
But we performed with enthusiasm! Gottfried, our choir's conductor, was in fine form, and my friend in the audience said he was the best of the three. Our concert program (annotated):
Jacob's Ladder (the familiar spiritual)
All Over The World (an unfamiliar spiritual)
Lord, The Light of Your Love (a modern Christian tune)
Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen (soloists, Josh, Gilles and me)
Heaven Is A Wonderful Place (an unfamiliar spiritual)
Little Lamb (an unfamiliar spiritual)
The Blessing of Aaron (a familiar sounding benediction with a seven-fold amen)
It was fun and hopefully my friends who didn't make it will have another opportunity to hear me and the group again!
Monaco International Marathon & 10 KM Race
Sunday morning was the Monaco International Marathon and 10Km race. I had gone to Monaco on Friday afternoon to pick up my race number, and walk through the Racer's Expo in the Stade Louis II - the soccer stadium for Monaco's soccer (aka football) team. I attempted to walk a bit of the course too, but that was not productive, as we were to run on roads through Monaco, and they were all full of traffic that Friday afternoon!
On Sunday morning I walked to the bus station and took a bus to Monaco at 7:30 .am., to get there in plenty of time for the 9:45 a.m. start. There were other racers on the bus with me, but I assumed many of them would be running the marathon, which began at 9 a.m. The marathon course went from Monaco to Italy and back through to France before ending in the Stadium. I had plenty of time when I got off the bus around 8:15, so I walked through the Stadium again, and saw all the preparations on going for the end of the race. The race start was at the harbor, about 1.5 km away - the same location where the Monaco Grand Prix will start at the end of May. It was a somewhat chilly morning, but I could tell that the sun would soon wear off the chill, and I was right. The marathon runners took off at 9 in the full sun; we 10k runners would have the same forty-five minutes later.
I watched the start of the marathon; there were several "elite" racers brought in for the race, as is most often the case with high-profile marathons these days. The Kenyans are the popular recruits, as they are very fast and often set course records; among the women elite racers for this race I saw an Eastern European or two, they also have reputations for running fast.
When the 10Km race set off at 9:45, I was already parched. I had gotten up early and had plenty of water, and also eaten a banana and a granola bar, but I had also made some coffee for myself, and in retrospect, I will not do that again. The caffeine effects were countered by the diuretic effects, unfortunately. My habit of not eating before I exercise had backfired in several races in the past, so in my recent races I have made it a point to eat something - even if only half a granola bar, before the race. It's no fun to race on fumes, which I have done.
The first 1 km of the race wound around the harbor, but then we turned up into the town, and up the hills toward Monte Carlo and its famous casino. We didn't actually run by the Casino, but you could see it from the road we ran on above the famous square. The race course took us by Princess Grace's Japanese Gardens and also by the Monte Carlo Country Club. The race was a little surreal; it was just us runners on the streets - there were very few folks on the streets watching us - and because we were running on the main streets of Monaco, there was virtually no noise around us - no cars could be heard. We ran under tunnels (nice, for their shade), and in the full sun back by the harbor on our way to the finish in the Stadium. About 3 km from the end, we raced past a water station, and I motioned indicating I'd like some water, but apparently the station was for the marathoners coming later - the volunteers at the table just cheered me on, ignoring my water shout and hand motions.
I was feeling pretty good throughout the race though; I enjoy climbing hills, and this course gave me that opportunity. I'm also a pretty good runner down hills, and saw myself making up time over my competitors on some of our downhills. In the last 3 km I was actually running by some guys on the course, which surprised me a little, but it was getting hot, and it is always easy to run too hard at the start of a race and peter out at the end. I had tried to keep at about 80% of my capacity through the race, which means for me, running with a labored breath, but not so labored that it hurts. That's not a good way to run a 10 km race anyway. But my training with weights and speed apparently were good enough to propel me up the ramp into the stadium and around the rubber track to sprint to the finish line in 42:24.
My finish pleased me greatly - especially since I had had no idea of my time throughout the race (note to race organizers, it's nice to see your time at some point during the race!). I got my medal and my lunch bag with its water bottle and wandered out of the stadium, just happy the race was over. I walked back into the stadium a little later, and wondered whether I should stick around and see if I had won anything. But my experience in France is that there are so few races and so many competitive runners that I never win anything (which is typical for me in the US races I run). So I went to find my bag so I could change and find the bus back to Nice.
It occurred to me later that I hadn't seen many women during the race, and that maybe I had done better than I had thought against my competition. So I went to the internet, eager to see what my results had been. The results were posted a little later that night, and I found that I had come in 3rd in my division - V1F - women aged 40-49. That was pretty exciting - but I still didn't win anything, as prizes were only given to the top winners in each division.
My prize to myself that afternoon was to spend some time on the Nice beach, and to plunge into the ocean for the first time in 2009! The water was definitely chilly (62 degrees Fahrenheit), but it felt good on my muscles for the 2 or 3 minutes I stayed in the water. I'll be back in the water again soon And racing again soon too (April 19).
Last weekend was a typical "Ari" weekend, representing the things I like to do best. On Saturday, I had a concert with my chorus, the Choeur Gospel from the Eglise Reformee I attend here in Nice. On Sunday, I ran a 10 kilometer race in nearby Monaco. Both events were enough to get me out of my "homesickness" that I'd been experiencing the previous week - and a reminder that I have a home here too in Nice.
Concert - Choeur Gospel
Here's the invitation I sent to my French friends, letting them know about my Saturday concert:
* * *
J’aimerais t’inviter pour le Concert Choral le samedi prochain, le 21 mars, à 15h00, à Sanctuaire du Sacré Coeur, 22 rue de France, Nice (centre ville). Il y sera quatre choeurs qui chanteront dans le concert; je chanterai avec le Choeur Gospel de L’Église Réformée. C’est un petit choeur, pas trés fort, mais trés amiable!
Ce concert est au profit de la recherche médicale en ophtalmologie soutenue par l’association Retina France. Prix de l’entrée: 8€.
J’espère que tu viens voir cette soirée musicale!
* * *
The concert was taken a little blithely by my chorus, as this fundraiser for Retina France was not exactly our idea. It was interesting to watch my group (about which I have blogged a few times) prepare for this public performance. At our rehearsal two weeks before the concert, there was a fairly small group of us, as several members were out of town or on vacation. It was at that rehearsal that two women organizing the concert appeared, apparently to make sure we were going to be OK (at least that was my assessment). I was a little apprehensive about that myself; there were 12 of us at that rehearsal, and the conductor ended up having to sing tenor, because there were no tenors at that rehearsal. We were acceptable, but were not going to win any ovations with our performance, I thought.
One week later, I was amazed as four singers appeared at rehearsal that I had thought were not going to be joining us - three of them men, two of them tenors! The guys had all been singing with us throughout the year, but I had thought would not be around for the concert. Another young woman showed up who hadn't attended rehearsals since December; she lip-synced through the rehearsal and then didn't show up at the concert, no surprise. But this change of events was heartening to me, and I felt better about the upcoming performance. We rehearsed well that night, and planned to reconvene at 2 p.m. before the 3 p.m. concert on Saturday.
I had been alerted by my fellow soprano, Micheline, that the concert had received almost no publicity, although posters for the event had been distributed to us. So it was not too big a surprise on Saturday afternoon to find that the audience in this lovely Catholic church was tiny. The other two choirs were quite large, about 40 singers each (the four choir, a children's choir, had pulled out of the concert at the last minute); one was from a Catholic church in Antibes, the other was from this parish, it seemed. Our group of 14 singers seemed tiny in comparison. But our three choirs easily were double the size of the audience.
But we performed with enthusiasm! Gottfried, our choir's conductor, was in fine form, and my friend in the audience said he was the best of the three. Our concert program (annotated):
Jacob's Ladder (the familiar spiritual)
All Over The World (an unfamiliar spiritual)
Lord, The Light of Your Love (a modern Christian tune)
Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen (soloists, Josh, Gilles and me)
Heaven Is A Wonderful Place (an unfamiliar spiritual)
Little Lamb (an unfamiliar spiritual)
The Blessing of Aaron (a familiar sounding benediction with a seven-fold amen)
It was fun and hopefully my friends who didn't make it will have another opportunity to hear me and the group again!
Monaco International Marathon & 10 KM Race
Sunday morning was the Monaco International Marathon and 10Km race. I had gone to Monaco on Friday afternoon to pick up my race number, and walk through the Racer's Expo in the Stade Louis II - the soccer stadium for Monaco's soccer (aka football) team. I attempted to walk a bit of the course too, but that was not productive, as we were to run on roads through Monaco, and they were all full of traffic that Friday afternoon!
On Sunday morning I walked to the bus station and took a bus to Monaco at 7:30 .am., to get there in plenty of time for the 9:45 a.m. start. There were other racers on the bus with me, but I assumed many of them would be running the marathon, which began at 9 a.m. The marathon course went from Monaco to Italy and back through to France before ending in the Stadium. I had plenty of time when I got off the bus around 8:15, so I walked through the Stadium again, and saw all the preparations on going for the end of the race. The race start was at the harbor, about 1.5 km away - the same location where the Monaco Grand Prix will start at the end of May. It was a somewhat chilly morning, but I could tell that the sun would soon wear off the chill, and I was right. The marathon runners took off at 9 in the full sun; we 10k runners would have the same forty-five minutes later.
I watched the start of the marathon; there were several "elite" racers brought in for the race, as is most often the case with high-profile marathons these days. The Kenyans are the popular recruits, as they are very fast and often set course records; among the women elite racers for this race I saw an Eastern European or two, they also have reputations for running fast.
When the 10Km race set off at 9:45, I was already parched. I had gotten up early and had plenty of water, and also eaten a banana and a granola bar, but I had also made some coffee for myself, and in retrospect, I will not do that again. The caffeine effects were countered by the diuretic effects, unfortunately. My habit of not eating before I exercise had backfired in several races in the past, so in my recent races I have made it a point to eat something - even if only half a granola bar, before the race. It's no fun to race on fumes, which I have done.
The first 1 km of the race wound around the harbor, but then we turned up into the town, and up the hills toward Monte Carlo and its famous casino. We didn't actually run by the Casino, but you could see it from the road we ran on above the famous square. The race course took us by Princess Grace's Japanese Gardens and also by the Monte Carlo Country Club. The race was a little surreal; it was just us runners on the streets - there were very few folks on the streets watching us - and because we were running on the main streets of Monaco, there was virtually no noise around us - no cars could be heard. We ran under tunnels (nice, for their shade), and in the full sun back by the harbor on our way to the finish in the Stadium. About 3 km from the end, we raced past a water station, and I motioned indicating I'd like some water, but apparently the station was for the marathoners coming later - the volunteers at the table just cheered me on, ignoring my water shout and hand motions.
I was feeling pretty good throughout the race though; I enjoy climbing hills, and this course gave me that opportunity. I'm also a pretty good runner down hills, and saw myself making up time over my competitors on some of our downhills. In the last 3 km I was actually running by some guys on the course, which surprised me a little, but it was getting hot, and it is always easy to run too hard at the start of a race and peter out at the end. I had tried to keep at about 80% of my capacity through the race, which means for me, running with a labored breath, but not so labored that it hurts. That's not a good way to run a 10 km race anyway. But my training with weights and speed apparently were good enough to propel me up the ramp into the stadium and around the rubber track to sprint to the finish line in 42:24.
My finish pleased me greatly - especially since I had had no idea of my time throughout the race (note to race organizers, it's nice to see your time at some point during the race!). I got my medal and my lunch bag with its water bottle and wandered out of the stadium, just happy the race was over. I walked back into the stadium a little later, and wondered whether I should stick around and see if I had won anything. But my experience in France is that there are so few races and so many competitive runners that I never win anything (which is typical for me in the US races I run). So I went to find my bag so I could change and find the bus back to Nice.
It occurred to me later that I hadn't seen many women during the race, and that maybe I had done better than I had thought against my competition. So I went to the internet, eager to see what my results had been. The results were posted a little later that night, and I found that I had come in 3rd in my division - V1F - women aged 40-49. That was pretty exciting - but I still didn't win anything, as prizes were only given to the top winners in each division.
My prize to myself that afternoon was to spend some time on the Nice beach, and to plunge into the ocean for the first time in 2009! The water was definitely chilly (62 degrees Fahrenheit), but it felt good on my muscles for the 2 or 3 minutes I stayed in the water. I'll be back in the water again soon And racing again soon too (April 19).
Friday, March 27, 2009
Introducing My Parents to My France - A Travelogue
Friday, February 13
9:40 a.m. Arrival Nice Cote d’Azur airport, Delta Flight 82. I met my mom and dad at the airport shortly after 10 a.m.. They were looking none the worse for wear after leaving home the previous morning. And happily it’s a beautiful sunny day in Nice! We all took the express bus to the downtown train station; then walked the two blocks walk to my apartment in the Musician’s Quarter.
9:40 a.m. Arrival Nice Cote d’Azur airport, Delta Flight 82. I met my mom and dad at the airport shortly after 10 a.m.. They were looking none the worse for wear after leaving home the previous morning. And happily it’s a beautiful sunny day in Nice! We all took the express bus to the downtown train station; then walked the two blocks walk to my apartment in the Musician’s Quarter.
We spent the rest of the morning getting settled in my apartment. I let Mom and Dad have my room for their visit; I moved myself into the living room – which turned out to be a good arrangement for all of us.
Afternoon – I took Mom and Dad down “my walk” to the beach, showing them places and people that I have come to know over my five months here. We walked briefly through the Old Town as well, so that they could see the open air markets, the courthouse, the gelato place, and the St. Répérate Cathedral, which they found quite interesting. I could tell the long day/short night was taking a toll on my folks; we took the tram home.
9 p.m. – Arrival of The King. After a cheese, cracker and hummus dinner, we walked over to Place Massena and enjoyed the first night of Carnaval with the King and Queen. The music was loud, the announcer was uninterpretable, but we enjoyed the festivities. And we experienced our first silly string, one of the traditions, it turns out, of French parades.
Saturday, February 14 – Valentine’s Day
Morning – I had given my folks the option of coming to my gym with me, and Mom took me up on it this morning. After having figured out what she would wear the night before. Mom joined me for the Abdominal (Abdos) and Stretch Class at FitnessLand. On our 15 minute walk over there, Mom spied the bakery with Valentine treats; on the way back, we bought a few fruit tarts for Dad to celebrate the holiday.
2:30 p.m. Flower Parade – Priscilla arrived to join us for a walk to the Promenade. It was chilly, and we came prepared with hats, gloves and a fleece blanket. I carried snacks as well, always a good idea. The parade began late, but once it started, it seemed it would never stop. The floats did a circuit up and down the Promenade in front of the stands at least twice – maybe three times. Part of the reason is that the flower floats (think Rose Bowl Parade on New Year’s Day) distribute their flowers after one full circuit has been completed. There were other floats too, sponsored by different countries, and different regions in France. The sun was out the entire time, so we didn’t get too cold.
6 p.m. My friend Christiane joined us all for dinner in my apartment after the parade. We had ratatouille and German wurst, and celebrated St. Valentines with gifts and chocolate, of course! Our guests leave around 9:30, and my travelers were in bed not long after…
Sunday, February 15
10:15 a.m. Church service. Mom and Dad were pleased to come with me to see my church in Nice, the Église Réformée. On our way into church that morning, they met Odette and Philippe, my choir friends. I tried to do some interpreting for Dad during the service, but he finally indicated that he was happy enough just to sit there. Neither Mom or Dad know French. I gave my Dad some instruction when he arrived that there was a 50% rule. Fifty percent of the time the word in French that looks like an English word is the same as the English word. The other 50% of the time, it is a different word completely. After the service, Odette asked me if we could have dinner over at their home while my parents were visiting. We finally agreed on dinner on Tuesday night; and once they heard we would be in their neighborhood that afternoon, they invited us over for coffee later that day. I was slightly apprehensive about how this would all work out, but I need not have been.
After an omelette lunch (made by Dad), and a few short naps, we headed out on bus to Musée Chagall. Dad had Rick Steeve’s Provence and Cote D’Azur Guide that I had given him for Christmas, which turned out to have a very handy “tour” of the museum, explaining Chagall’s paintings. It gave us a better idea of what we were seeing, for sure! The museum holds only about 20 paintings of Chagall’s, and is one of the few museums in Nice that you have to pay for. But then you can say you’ve been there!
After leaving the museum, we wandered around the Cimiez neighborhood, until it was close enough to 5 o’clock for me to call Odette and let her know we were on our way over for tea. We had a lovely visit with them for about an hour; I learned that the two of them were quite good English speakers, and realized that dinner with them on Tuesday would be quite pleasant. Philippe drove us home afterward, and we had a quiet pasta dinner at home.
Monday, February 16
Mom and Dad are still waking up at odd hours in the night, and sleeping late, so I get up in the morning and go for a run. After breakfast and some puzzling (Dad has started the puzzle Mom brought along for the trip – hmm, that’s a new one, eh?), we head out around noon for our trip to St. Jean, picking up sandwiches on the way to the bus station. We take the 1:15 bus to St.-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and enjoy the walk around the point – with wonderful views of Nice to the west. There’s a strong wind, but the sun is out and it is quite pleasant. I warn Mom and Dad before we set out that it’s a long walk, but they are definitely troopers, and we finish the walk within 2 hours. When we get to the St. Jean harbor, we have a well-earned coffee and croissant before heading back on the bus to Nice around 6 p.m.
Tuesday, February 17
Morning – Trip to Grasse. As arranged with Priscilla over the weekend, this is our day to visit Grasse. I find out before we leave that the newly-open International Museum of Perfume (Musée Internationale de la Parfumerie) is not open on Tuesdays, but there will be other things to do in town. We take 11 a.m. bus to Grasse (about an hour and a half trip, with some lovely views as the bus climbs into the mountains outside Nice) and meet Priscilla in town for lunch. We enjoy pizzas and salads and Provencal rosé wine at a restaurant in the old town. After lunch, the three of us visit the Fragonard Museum (Fragonard is one of the three major perfumeries in Grasse), and luck out with a private tour in English, as there are no other English-speaking visitors. We buy quite a few soaps before heading out to visit the Cathedral and a few shops before heading back to the bus station to catch the 4 p.m. bus. It’s the bus taking all the kids home from school, it appears, so the ride back is noisy, but we get home in time to take short naps before our evening engagement.
7:30 p.m. Philippe arrives to take us to his home for dinner. It turns out when we arrive for dinner that Odette has invited her next door neighbor to join us, as she also speaks English well. This phenomenon of inviting English speakers to help make the English-speaking visitors feel at home is familiar to me. Every time I visit my friend Uli in Germany, he is great about inviting the folks he knows speak English well to join us for dinner (I visit enough now that I know most of these people pretty well too!). Although she is not feeling well, the neighbor stays through dinner, and she and I have an animated conversation. We have champagne for the cocktail hour, along with paté on fruit bread, and salty snacks – and for dinner Odette prepares a scallop/asparagus appetizer, followed by a Provencal stew with rice. Lovely. Dessert is fruit compote with cinnamon ice cream. Philippe pours white and red wine, and after dinner, treats me to a homemade plum brandy (made by Odette’s uncle). It is lovely, and he offers me a bottle to take home – which I accept!
Wednesday, February 18
I wake up and go for a run, instead of the gym visit originally planned, so we can be ready to meet Philippe at 10 a.m. He has offered to take us to La Turbie, a little town on the cliffs above Monaco, to take in the view. We visit the Roman Trophée – Philippe, Dad and I climb up the tower for a fantastic view, and then visit the small museum on the grounds. Then Philippe takes us to another lookout spot (Place of the Dog – referring to the dog in the Nice flag, I believe), for another gorgeous view of the Mediterranean and surrounding coastline.
Philippe then drives us to St. Laurent du Var, to meet up at La Moorea restaurant for lunch with Erick planned for 12:30. Erick has trouble finding parking, but eventually joins us and we enjoy a lovely lunch of seafood appetizers and paté. We share a chocolate moelleux dessert, and then the owner sends over Limoncello for our après lunch drink – Mom is in seventh heaven! It’s her favorite drink since being introduced to it two years ago in Italy, when we stayed in Ravello for Christmas. Erick drives us back to Nice, and we listen to three songs he would like to record as part of our song project. It’s 3 in the afternoon…
We take the afternoon to relax and pack for the trip the next day to Provence.
8:30 p.m. I leave for choir rehearsal at the Église Réformée. Odette is there – and has lovely things to say about mom and dad: “sympa” – very nice (“sympatique”) in colloquial French.
Thursday, February 19
Morning – Dad and I go to Europcar to pick up our rental car at the train station at 8 a.m. Once we’ve packed up the car on Avenue Auber, we head out East toward Provence around 9 a.m. We arrive in Aix-en-Provence around 11 a.m. and park so we can walk around the town. We use Dad’s book, Rick Steeve’s Provence, to take the walk around the Old Town (the book is coming in handy!). We find some open air markets, and mom has a chance to buy some things (she likes to shop). We wander into the town hall square, and find students protesting – or rather, supporting the faculty, which is currently on strike, I believe. We find some lunch in the square, and then head back to the car around 2, so we can head to Oppède, where we will spend two nights.
We find Oppède easily, and since we are there before our announced 4 p.m. arrival time, we wander around the old town, and explore the castle. Mom has some trouble with the steep climb to the castle, but we take our time. It is perched high in the valley, and has some lovely views. It is beginning to darken, and the chill starts to seep into our bones…
After 4, we head into the hotel, and Roger welcomes us and shows us our room. It is on the first floor (second, for Americans) and has two beds and a lovely bathroom. But it is a COLD, even with the small kerosene heater on the floor. We curl up in bed to get warm (I take a bath) before our dinner, scheduled for 7:15, downstairs.
Priscilla arrives just before 7:30 to join us for dinner in the basement (cave) restaurant of Belle de Nuit. The basement used to be used as a bakery, and has a lovely old bread oven, and very low ceilings. The room is decorated with art from local artists, and with lots of candles for illumination. Laurie has cooked up a wonderful dinner: Salad with popcorn shrimp and avocado, duck with regional vegetables, and a apple tart dessert with homemade vanilla ice cream. It’s a bit chilly in the restaurant too, but our conversation warms the room.
Friday, February 20
I wake up early, having had a very warm night under too many blanket, and head out for a run in the chilly morning air. The sun is shining and it looks to be another beautiful day. After a breakfast of pancakes and good coffee, Mom and Dad and I head out for Avignon for day trip. Priscilla is off to do a day hike on her own in the valley. With some good instructions from our host Roger, we find our way into town, and find a parking spot even! It’s about 11 when we get there, and once parked, we just wander for a bit. We try and figure out where we are with the guide book, and are looking for the farmer’s market that is supposed to be in progress on Friday mornings. We aren’t successful in finding the market square until later in the day (too late for the farmers), but we do find the “permanent” market in town, and wander through the cavernous hall (reminded me of Philadelphia’s Terminal Market downtown) with all of its vendors of pasta, olive oils, shellfish, fruits and vegetables, breads and pastries.
From the market we headed toward the Pope’s Palace and then to the Avignon Bridge. Along the way, Mom did some shopping at a Provençal tourist shop - by now we were doing cost comparisons on items, to make sure she was getting a good deal. ;-) We found that you had to pay to cross what was left of the bridge, so instead we walked up a long flight of stairs to the Palace (Mom doing a good job of keeping her heart rate down), and took in the lovely views from above across the river. Up there, we found a garden and sat down on a bench in the sun near a small pond filled with ducks to enjoy our picnic lunch. We had bread and cheese, apples and chocolate. It was really quite pleasant, if not warm.
Afterwards, we walked back down past the Cathedral (a quick walk inside, it was too cold!), and then back through the town, where we found the market square and some other shops, and the Tourist Office, where I picked up a map. We were looking for a place to buy a beignet, which my mom had spied earlier in the day and wanted to get – and then a place for coffee. We found the beignet (chocolate filled) and then found a nice outdoor café in the sun, in a quiet location not far from our car. We enjoyed café crème and the sun before getting in the car for the ride back, around 3 p.m.
When we got back to Belle de Nuit, we all took naps, getting up around 7:30 to head out toward a nearby town, Bonnieux, where we were told we could find a restaurant for dinner. It was a long and windy road, but we finally found the town, and a brasserie-pizzeria, Les Terrasses, perched on the side of the hill, where we enjoyed a hardy dinner. We especially liked the open wood fireplace in the center of the restaurant. I had a local sausage with pommes frites, Mom and Dad both had a cutlet of some sort. It started getting more crowded as we were leaving, around 9:30 p.m. But we were ready for bed.
Saturday, February 21
This morning we sleep in a little, and meet up with Priscilla again for breakfast prepared by our hosts. It’s oatmeal this morning, another good choice for a chilly morning! Over breakfast, we share with Roger and Laurie our plans to visit Marseille, and Roger provides me with ideas for where to park, where to eat, and what to do while we’re in the city. We say our goodbyes and head out for the autoroute to Marseille. Just as we go through the toll booth, Dad pulls his hand out of his pocket and says, “I have the room key!” I stop the car on the other side of the toll booth, and we try to contact Laurie to see if we should turn around. But we finally decide that we don’t think they have any more visitors arriving (that’s what we remember) and that we can mail the key back promptly. Not a crisis, we deem, and I head back down the highway to Marseille.
It’s another beautiful sunny day, and we get to Marseille around noon. We find parking on the street where Roger had suggested, and we get out and wander around the Old Port and into the city. We can see the Notre Dame cathedral on the hill above the port, and we encounter a flower market on the sidewalks as we walk. Mimosas are in full bloom in this season; we saw them in the Carnaval Flower Parade, we saw them proliferating on the hills outside Mandelieu on our drive to the west, and in all the flower markets in the towns we have visited. Beautiful yellow flowers in big bunches. Makes you think of spring.
We find the Tourist Office to pick up city maps, and then I encourage us to the commercial center, where I can find a public bathroom. We wander through a Galeries Lafayette store, and visit a Nature et Découverte store to buy a back pillow for Dad (I have found mine to be extraordinarily helpful on long trips where sitting is involved), and then Mom and Dad share a chocolate gelato before we head back into the downtown melee.
We don’t have to wander too far to find the seafood restaurant that Roger had recommended highly, Toinou. They are busy shucking oysters and preparing shellfish platters on the street; we head into the restaurant and bag an outside table to enjoy our lunch.
After lunch, I race back to the car to make sure we don’t get a parking ticket, and Mom and Dad follow. Soon we are on the road, after driving around the seaside drive around the town (Boulevard John F. Kennedy) for wonderful views of the sea. Once on the autoroute, it doesn’t take us long to get back to the Nice area; so I drop off the A8 in Cannes, and drive from Cannes to Nice along the seaside. It’s Saturday afternoon, and there’s quite a bit of traffic, but Mom and Dad get to see the boats and crowds along the small towns of the Cote d’Azur (Cannes, Juan-le-Pins, Antibes, Villeneuve-Loubet, et Cros-de-Cagnes).
Once back in Nice, I return the car and we all crash. It was an enjoyable but long three days!
Sunday, February 22
Sunday morning, Mom and Dad are game to join me for church (in French) once again. They get to see Odette and Phillipe again, and I get to introduce them to a few more people.
After church, Dad makes omelettes again, and we relax. Dad is still working on the puzzle, and he’s starting to get anxious about finishing it before he has to leave. So Mom and I head out to the beach, to get some sun and catch up on things. We do a little more shopping too. Quiet evening at home.
Monday, February 23
This morning, after my run, I find out that my Dad has been up all night feeling sick….which puts a pall on things for sure. Mom and I do what we can for Dad, but he’s just not a happy camper. We finally leave him alone to do some food shopping, and later spend some more time at the beach. He just needs to sleep, it seems. It’s a good day to have some down time anyway. Nobody complains.
Tuesday, February 24 – Mardi Gras
I head for the gym this morning, and learn that Dad is feeling better, if not well. We take it easy again, and Mom and I plan the evening’s dinner, as Christiane will be joining us in advance of the Parade of Lights later in the evening.
Christiane arrives around 6, with a lovely chocolate cake for our dessert. I have planned for us to Cassoulet, which is a traditional Provencal dish, with goose. I had made Cassoulet for a dinner party at my home in Arlington a year ago, and wanted to see what the real thing was like, so I bought a few cans of the casserole in my local Carrefour. I served it with rice, and Mom made brussel sprouts – it was a good dinner.
Dad didn’t join us for dinner, but he did join us for the Carnavalesque Illuminé. We headed out for the Place Massena around 8:30 for the 9 p.m. start. The lights were strobing, the music was thumping, and there were definitely crowds on this Mardi Gras evening. We had tickets so we could sit in the stands and watch the parade, but it was also possible to stand in the center of the plaza between the stands and watch the parade for free – not something you would see at an American parade of this type! The vendors were selling confetti and silly string – items with which we were now well acquainted. For this event, Mom had bought a yellow-haired wig – her way of getting into the spirit – but there were few others dressed up for the event.
The theme of the Parades this year was “Deception” – and while a few of the floats were recognizable in their message, many were not. A little bit lost in translation, I think. But it was a fascinating evening, and unlike any other parade I had attended – with the light show, the fantastic floats, the milling crowds and the incessant head-throbbing music (oh, that comes with everything these days, doesn’t it?).
The parade ended with a whimper (as do most things French), and we followed the crowds out of the stands and walked home around 10:30 p.m.
Wednesday, February 25 – Ash Wednesday
There was only one thing left to do that was on the list that Mom wanted to do – go see the Matisse Museum. And happily, Dad was feeling better enough this day to want to join us for the trip. We took it easy in the morning, but headed out on the bus north to Cimiez around 2 to visit the Musée Matisse. We didn’t have a tour book to walk us through the museum this time, but we enjoyed it anyway. Lots of paintings from every facet of the artist’s oeuvre, and in a lovely old Italian mansion on the top of the hill. No charge for this museum. After wandering around, we walked back down the hill towards Odette’s home. She had called to see if Mom and Dad could come over once more, but hadn’t realized their stay was so (!) short. We had arranged to come by for a last visit after our museuming; and so we arrived around 4 p.m. to spend some time with her (Philippe was at a bridge game). We had a lovely visit with her, and then she drove us back home, so we could be there for Priscilla’s arrival – she had asked to join us for dinner that night.
I have to say, the welcome that all my friends, French, American and German, gave my parents was wonderful, and made their visit here that much more special. They still say, “Tell all our friends hello” when they call me now. And I am happy to return the favor.
Our last dinner together was over ratatouille and cheese and bread and other leftovers, including chocolate cake and ice cream. Priscilla, Mom and I did Amherst catch-ups while Dad worked feverishly to finish the puzzle (which as yet remains unfinished in my living room). Mom and Dad had packed earlier in the day, so there was no final rush needed…
Thursday, February 26
Everyone is up early, although unnecessarily, as we don’t have to leave until 9 a.m. from the train station. But Dad is anxious, and we get there in plenty of time, and are at the airport in plenty of time for their 11:25 flight. We give big hugs, and I am sorry to see them go. It was a good visit.
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