Rosé in Marseille

Nous sommes en France ! (We are in France).

Warning: a few tourist photos below. Otherwise, I’ll share with you my initial cultural observations–mostly ecological–of our first 24 hours in France after 5 years away.

The most arduous part of the travel is behind us. We flew direct from Raleigh to Paris, then took a connecting flight to Marseille. From the Marseille airport, we caught a bus to the central city and walked about half an hour to our hotel, where we gratefully unloaded our bags and set out to explore France’s oldest city before a very early bedtime.

And of course, we got wine.

Un pichet of rosé, or about 2/3 of a bottle, was 9.50 euros.

We are in Marseille for less than 48 hours, and nearly half of that may be spent sleeping (jet lag). I had hoped to visit the Chateau d’If, which fans of Alexandre Dumas’ masterpiece novel “The Count of Monte Cristo” will recognize as the fortress in which hero Edmond Dantes was wrongfully imprisoned. Unfortunately, the Chateau is closed due to a problem with its electricity, so I had to admire it from the old port of Marseille.

This is probably as close as I will get to Edmond Dantes, aside from walking the streets where he fictionally lived.

The moored “Edmond Dantes” ferry.

Maybe next time.

And we need to make sure we have a next time. Marseille is a gorgeous city full of history and fabulous Mediterranean breezes. Two days is not enough time to explore, especially for jet-lagged travelers.

It’s a tourist cliché to eat bouillabaisse in Marseille, but we are tourists.

Eco France

For me, the primary cultural amenity of France is the pleasure of being a pedestrian here. France has cars, of course. But the cars don’t dominate urban spaces the way they do in the United States.

Marseille’s main street — La Canebière — is a wide pedestrian boulevard. Many other streets in central Marseille also are pedestrian-only, perhaps because most cars would not fit, at least not with two-way traffic. Even where the cars are allowed, pedestrian safety is assisted with clear signage and motorists who seem to understand to yield. Bikes and scooters also are popular.

La Canebière.

We’ll be spending a month in Montpellier, a city we first visited five years ago. We loved its public transit and pedestrian city center. At the end of this year, Montpellier will make its excellent transit system free for all residents in an effort to reduce carbon emissions.

They turn the lights off more here. Lighting hallways “as needed’ rather than continuously is not a new thing in Europe. I remember on our first trip, in 1987, having to learn the locations of the hallway lights in our hotel in Germany. The corridors were kept in darkness except when in use, when we could turn on a timed light just long enough to reach our door. The corridor of our Marseille apartment hotel has a motion-detector light. Such a simple thing to save energy and it doesn’t result in any inconvenience.

Appliances don’t have to take up so much space. I’m enchanted with the stovetop-oven-dishwasher combo in our apartment. I won’t be here long enough to use it; perhaps the apartment in Montpellier where we’ll spend the next four weeks will have a similar arrangement. This all-in-one appliance has me rethinking my desire to enlarge my kitchen in Traverse City. Maybe I need less kitchen, not more.

Induction cooktop, big-enough oven and dishwasher.

The refrigerator, which we could call “dorm sized” in the States, is built into a cabinet. In a city where fresh food is just steps away, it’s also big enough.

Health warnings on television food advertisements. This is not what you may be thinking! We’re used to health warnings on U.S. commercials — mostly about all the ways the drug being advertised might kill or maim the user. Here, snack food ads have disclaimers at the bottom of the screen, warning people not to eat between meals and reminding them to eat at least five servings of fruit and veg each day. Curious, I looked up this practice, which has been a law in France since 2007. I don’t think I turned on the TV last time I was here so I didn’t notice.

Cell phone service is cheaper here. This isn’t an eco thing, just a perplexing thing. In the U.S., my Verizon plan is $150/month for three lines and 2G of shared data (the shared data plan is no longer offered; if I have to switch to unlimited, it will be at least $30/month more). Here, I bought an eSim card with 3G of data for a month for $10. Leah purchased a Sim card with 15G of data and a French phone number for $20. Is Verizon ripping me off? It sure feels like it.

That’s all for now. Tomorrow we go to Arles, the Van Gogh city, where we’ll meet up with our Michigan friend, Madeleine.

I Climbed a Mountain

In a few days, we fly to France. We’ll be in Europe for six weeks, mostly without an agenda. However, one particular activity looms large in my mind: on October 12, we’re going on a group hike up the Pic St. Loup north of Montpellier. It’s a challenging climb and requires participants to be “hike fit.”

Am I hike fit? I walk every day, but nearly all of my treks in recent years have been on Traverse City’s flat, paved sidewalks. I haven’t hiked a mountain in ages. My last sustained period of mountain trekking was 20 years ago when we lived in Colorado for a year. Even the hilliest parts of northern Michigan, such as Sleeping Bear Dunes, are not real elevation climbs.

So yesterday I laced up my new hiking boots and drove two hours to Hanging Rock State Park at the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, accompanied by my daughter and sister-in-law.

Wanting to replicate as closely as possible the 1100-foot elevation increase of the Pic St. Loup climb, I chose the toughest trail at Hanging Rock–Moore’s Wall Loop. It’s a 4.7 mile hike with a gain of nearly 1,000 feet of elevation. And had it been a sunny day, the reward at the top would have been a dazzling view of the Blue Ridge. But alas.

From the fire tower at the top of Moore’s Wall, in the clouds.

Below the clouds, peaking through the trees, we had some mountain views.

Cloudy day, glimpsing the Blue Ridge through the trees.

And it was a lovely walk through lush mountain forests of rhododendron and spruce, up rocky paths and over bubbling creeks.

Fording the creek on some slippery, mostly flat stones.

Fortunately, in my opinion, we didn’t see any timber rattlers or bears, and the bug population wasn’t noticeable. Sometimes we walked through a light mist, making it feel like a forest primeval.

Leah makes a friend at the end of the trail. If you look closely, you can see the doe at the upper left.

As for the purpose of the hike — training for the mountain climb in France — I’m not sure it gave me confidence that I’m “hike fit.” My new hiking boots performed admirably, but I was slow, especially on the downhill. I was so afraid of losing my footing. If I were to break a leg there, how would anyone get me out? So I descended timidly.

Maybe the trail in France will not be as rugged.

Carolina in the Pines

When I’m away from it, I often go to North Carolina in my mind. And now I’m in my childhood bedroom in Cary, which will be my home base for most of the next year.

This year of charting our post-retirement future will not always be glamorous. Sure, we’ll take some trips and have some adventures, but mostly we’ll be taking care of our elderly parents. John is with his 96-year-old dad in southern Virginia, and I’m here with my 83-year-old mama.

We arrived after the upper 90s summer heat situation passed. Yay for that! It’s pleasant here now, mostly in the low 80s and sunny. A heavy overnight rain made the greenway where I take my morning walks almost jungle-like.

The lush greenway.

When we arrived a few days ago, I was excited to see that my brother had left me a welcome gift: two perfectly ripe cantaloupes from Ridgeway, N.C. These melons are world-famous, or so I’ve believed since I was a little girl. They grow near my grandma’s old house in Warren County at the N.C.-Virginia border. I’ve never had better cantaloupes, and I was so grateful to get to enjoy them before the end of the season.

If you look closely on the upper left of the plate, you can see a little of the very thin rind. This thing was so lucious; I had cantaloupe juice running down my arms after cutting it.

Most of the past few days has been spent hanging out with family, unpacking, rearranging my bedroom, and doing my mama’s errands.

The primary excitement so far was going to the Cary REI store to purchase new hiking boots. REI is a co-op, and if you know me, you know I love co-ops. So I was all set to become a member again, then I discovered at check-out that I was still a member from 20 years ago in Colorado. It’s a lifetime membership. What a deal! The REI staffer found me in the system with my Michigan address, Colorado phone number, and old university e-mail.

The boots are not for that greenway trail above; they are for France. Sure, most Americans go to France to traipse through museums and eat escargot, right? And we’ll be doing some of that, bien sûr. But we’ll also be adventuring in French nature. On our first week in le sud de France, we’ll be climbing the Pic St. Loup, a mountain near Montpellier that offers views of both the Alps and the Pyrenees from its peak.

We leave for France in two weeks. In the meantime, when I’m not helping my mama, I’ll be out on the deck with a book. I’ve already been to the local public library and checked out a couple of mysteries.

The pine straw is everywhere.

Away We Go! (Without the RV)

My husband, John, has just retired from his job of 42 years at The Associated Press, and we are taking some time away from our home in northern Michigan to explore the world together. I’ll be using this space, since I have it, to chronicle our adventures for anyone interested.

Goodbye, Michigan.

If anyone had told me how much work would be involved in one of us retiring, I might have urged John to keep his job. Our summer was filled with an agenda of chores large and small. It included administrative tasks such as getting John signed up for Medicare, and countless hours of physical labor involved in preparing our house for potential renters.

We drove away yesterday afternoon exhausted. Plus, our house looked so terrific (as long as we avoided the basement) that we wondered why we were leaving it. We’re already missing our friends and neighbors, and we’re grateful we didn’t sign a long-term rental agreement.

Saying goodbye to this old house, for now.

First stop: Chicago.

We’re visiting our son, daughter-in-law, and nephew in the Windy City for a couple of days. Chicago is a leading contender for a home base for us, if we decide to leave northern Michigan. It has the same downside as our current home — winter– albeit with much less lake effect snow. Having a year-round climate that enables us to get around safely as we age is a primary consideration.

Chicago scores big in transportation, with a decent transit system, walkable neighborhoods, and easy access to the rest of the world from O’Hare. It’s also reasonably affordable for a city offering so many amenities, including excellent healthcare facilities. Most importantly, we have children here, and possibly future grandchildren. And our daughter, Leah (the other femme of this blog), could easily live here without a car. She doesn’t drive.

Lunch with the nephew at a neighborhood place, the Little Goat Diner. I’ll pay more attention to photo background next time.

Next stop: North Carolina.