Been very lazy
We sleep in a fair amount; the beds are too comfortable and there has been nothing too pressing to do. That’s not really accurate. I set the ironing board up three weeks ago, so there is pressing. But not today. Or tomorrow.
Judy was very smart when we left Toronto. « Why iron clothes before we pack when we can just iron them in France when they are needed? »
That is why we married. Avoid unnecessary activities unless they can be proven to be essential.
So my shirts mostly remain a tad wrinkly. However my short sleeve shirts with the « no iron « label are pristine, which is why I chose them. The brand is Leo Chevalier, they are very comfortable, made in Canada, and the pocket is perfect for my clip-on sunglasses. You can find them online, or at Gadsby’s in Stratford, while madame is trying on clothes at The Wardrobe.
Le-Grau-du-Roi revisited
Many French town names are long and hyphenated. So I will take a page from Peggy’s book on linguistic simplification and refer to it as LGdR. There are also towns whose names start with St. but then you find out it is Saint. But in Canada we have Niagara on the Lake which is just as awkward. And we also have Sainte-Marie among the Hurons, formerly a Jesuit settlement.
But let’s focus on LGdR. It is absolutely a tourist destination, and there is no reason to go there other than to chill, watch people with dogs and kids, stroll along the beach or promenade, dine on a variety of seafood (see food, eat), drink vin gris (a sort of rosé), or wander the back streets.
Most of the cheap shops look like they were stocked from the back of a high-jacked truck, but there are some bargains. I found a shop that printed souvenir tee-shirts, but you have to wait a day. Not a problem. So I picked up a LGdR shirt for Jude. She will probably be the only person in our building with one.
This was the third time we stayed at the Hotel Splendid. It is very comfortable and reasonably well appointed. The balconies overlook the Mediterranean. Adjoining the hotel is the Splendid Bistro, and next to that is the Splendid Restaurant. The bistro meals are absolutely enormous. Jude ordered fish and chips. Very good but she could barely finish half. It’s the same place where we ordered moules frites in May and neither of us could make a dent. I hope the remains go to some deserving soul. Their cocktails are also enormous. Judy ordered a gin fizz and it was about a quart.
The Splendid restaurant is a bit more high end and the food is quite good. For our first dinner there we had queue de lotte or monkfish tail. It was peculiar but tasty. Normally one gets a cut from the body but this had everything but the tail fin itself. Not quite the lobster stand-in but enjoyable.
Our waiter, JC (not that JC) let us out through a secret passage into the hotel. Then he showed up at our room 5 minutes later, with Judy’s purse, which she had left at the table. Pretty decent service. Actually incredible.
Parking
That can be a bit challenging. The hotel has a handful of parking spots in a lot in the centre of town, for about $20 daily. They were already booked when we made our reservation. Patrice, the desk clerk, said public parking was not a problem. I had my doubts.
When arriving at the hotel, one has about ten minutes to park in front (with a pass) to unload luggage and bodies. The elevator holds two people and one suitcase. We deposited Judy and the carry-on in room 402, and then Patrice materialized with our suitcase. Very nice guy and unusually considerate performance.
Frankly, parking had me concerned. We have red tourist plates and I had read tales of cars being vandalized. Patrice drew an odd little map of streets with free parking, 24/7 and I was pretty sceptical. But after driving around for about 15 minutes I found a spot on a side street. And guess what—-after three nights it was still there, untouched. However I did take a picture of the intersection and street name in case I got lost. But that never happens.
Parking is free everywhere in town from November 11 until March 27. Probably no tourists.
French talk
I confess to having a history of overestimating my ability to communicate in French. Perhaps it dates to my Grade 7 French teacher, Mr. Shore, teaching us how to count, referring to us as mes petits moutons (little lambs -hah!), or calling a classmate, Michael Fish, Michel Poisson.
One year Judy and I were touring around France in our little Renault, and needed gas. The attendant said something unintelligible to me so I referred him to Judy, mon mari.
Both Judy and the gas jockey were stunned to find out that Judy was my husband. I was too.
On the same trip, we stayed in a Swiss hotel (I think) and were in dire need of showers. We were short of bath towels so I found the housekeeper to let her know that we needed assiettes de bain. Those would be « plates for the bath », but I guess she knew what we needed.
Fast forward about 40 years, and I commit the same stupid gaffe in the Hotel Splendid. The housekeeper covered nicely by explaining that it happens all the time. Sure.
But we did get new clean serviettes de bain, which solved the little problem.
Little misadventure
Our plan was to do at least another little adventure, but as the available days get smaller, so do the choices.
We did have a crazy little day trip to Grignan in the Drôme Provençale with Véro. Grignan has one of the three famous châteaux of the Drôme, along with Montélimar and Suze-la-Rousse. But we went for lunch.
The GPS really screwed up, and we wound up going through all sorts of back roads and industrial zones. I take full responsibility, having entered the wrong town name. But after much cursing, we arrived 30 minutes before our scheduled reservation.
Good thing. The restaurant was empty, except for staff.
Véro went for a little walk in the sun while I found a parking spot. For a day pretty late in the season, the town was pretty busy.
We ate at L’Étable, where we have been a few times before. There is an interesting menu of regional dishes, each coming with a salad followed by a hot dish. Judy and Véro both had the smoked salmon starter, followed by scallops with ravioles. My salad came with quail pâté, while the main dish was a shrimp curry, with the ubiquitous ravioles.
These are not big ravioli, but little ones the size of a fingernail. They are stuffed with herbs, and I remarked that they looked like a lot of work. Véro advised that you can buy them in bulk at the supermarket. News to me.
The meal was quite fine, and filling. No dessert.
Followed by Véro and me searching for the car. I did not leave a trail of breadcrumbs.
The trip home had some challenging GPS twists. She provides some misinformation as we approach roundabouts, but that makes life interesting. We were back in Bagnols in time to beat rush hour, and to enable Judy to crash after a full day of random touring.
Winding up…or Down
Still a week to go before heading to the maze of the Marseille airport, which seems to be constantly changing and under construction. Just when we think we have it figured out, they move check-in desks, walls, elevators, everything.
Tomorrow we expect to welcome our neighbour Jean-Louis for apéros. It will be two hours of non-stop French immersion. He is very interesting but can he ever talk. Our eyes were glazing over. A couple of big lunches and some shopping, followed by the drive to Marseille next Monday, 21 octobre.
Did you know that Marseille is the oldest city in France? Me neither. But it seems to have the newest airport, thanks to renovation,
The weather is up and down. Yesterday Caribbean sunshine, today fog and rain.
The vines are shutting down. Some are golden, others a rusty red. Guessing that’s a function of the variety since each of fields has its own colour palette. After ten years I still have no idea how to identify the type of grape. Just like to see the cépages listed on the label, and we seem to know what we like. As long as it is wine.
Today we received the notice from Air France to enter our passport information. Or else we can’t goto Toronto. Oooo. Tough choice.
Planning to lunch en route at Le 19, which is basically a diner south of Uzes. Nothing fancy, but Judy needs her hit of frogs’ legs.
That’s all, folks!
I
Tresquenadiens 