Tuesday…

We left mid-morning for Tourrettes-sur-Loup to buy a ceramic salt dish for a friend and were entertained by watching a very large Mercedes truck trying to make its way through a narrow street, flanked by houses, that was wider than the truck by about 3 inches. The driver had nearly reached the exit when he observed that someone had parked across the outside of the gate. Much gesticulating, horn-honking, and yelling! We watched for some time but finally had to give up and find a different way out of the village.

Next came Vence for a short stop to search for santons. No luck, but we listened to a young man playing the accordion very well by the ancient fountain.

At St-Paul-de-Vence we changed our minds about having lunch at La Colombe d’Or after failing to get anyone’s attention at the door to the restaurant. Instead we continued on to Cagnes-sur-Mer to find the atelier of the company that makes the pretty little Provençal houses. The address was 44 avenue des Colles, which we found after being presented with a map by a salesman at a car showroom who took pity on our lost selves.

We drove up and down the avenue and finally located number 46, a beauty salon whose manager had never heard of the Gault studio. We finally decided to try a narrow street off to one side and ended up on a dirt road; the car’s wheels caught in hole, and soon I smelled something burning: it was the clutch! Bob managed to work us out of the hole and we gave up on Gault. (Since then I’ve seen a post here indicating that the firm has closed. ???)

So…off to Biot . We drove up into the walled village, but the main street was blocked off and I realized that much walking uphill would be involved. Instead we drove back down to see the art-glass exhibit near the glass-blowing studio.

We settled down for lunch outside at a small restaurant opposite; Bob ordered steak frites, and I ordered melon to start and then pasta bolognaise. When the fruit came it was an entire melon, sliced into about 20 pieces—more than enough for an entire meal.

Afterward we watched the glass-blowers at work, then took in the exhibit. This time around it was a display of pieces by international artists, and we made the day of the woman guide by giving her someone to talk to. The art glass was exquisite, especially one piece of a wooden dolphin holding on its back a purple phoenix guarding her glowing red eggs. Magnificent! We bought a small paperweight by a Czech artist and were very happy to get it home safely.

We skipped dinner that evening, being entirely too full of that good, large lunch.

Sorry you felt ignored at one of my favorite places, Colombre D'Or. I once mentioned to someone to take a look while there and they felt rebuffed, I wrote to complain and they wrote back:

Mimi,
Firstly thank you very much for your e-mail and for letting us have this
insight of a traveller's journal.
We totally understand how disappointed one must feel, having read about our
place and not being able to come in and visit.
However please understand that we are not a museum but above all a hotel and
restaurant and in that respect we have to consider our guests.
Should we were to let visitors come in and visit at any time we could be as
busy as La Fondation Maeght and as a customer dining here or sitting by the
pool you might not enjoy it.
We let our restaurant customers have a look around and exceptionally we do
let people have a little tour but please understand that Saint-Paul can be a
very busy place and we do need to protect the privacy of our customers.
We hope this will have clarified the situation for you and give you a better
understanding of our position.
We look forward to welcoming you again in Saint-Paul and hopefully the
writer of this journal will give us an other chance and try us too.
Thanking you again for your message, we remain,
Yours Sincerely,
Nathalie
La Colombe d'Or

We were at the Colombe d'Or for lunch, not just to look around--but the one waitress in the mostly empty restaurant didn't seem to want to see us.

If it was empty, she was most likely setting up. I don't know, but I have never seen anyone be rude to a dining guest. Please wrie Nathalie.

There were four people in the nearly empty patio. The waitress wasn't exactly rude; she just didn't seem interested.

Anyone interested in the rest of the trip?

Underhill,

Yes, I'd love to hear about the rest of the trip.

Sebina

So would I, and others who love Provence!

We're going to Provence for the first time in April 2007 - so I'm very much enjoying reading about your trip!

Looking forward to it. Thank you for sharing.

More please.

I always enjoy reading your reports, because with repeated trips you tend to go places and find things that we first-timers would never locate. Yes, more please!

I'm working on the next two days...soon.

On Tuesday we tried one last time to find the atelier Gault, with no success. Some things are just not meant to be.

We drove on to Villefranche-sur-Mer for a slow trip through the town, then on to St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, one of our favorite places along the coast. Compared with September 2004 there was little traffic, and the parking lot at the port was nearly empty. We browsed the menus at the restaurants along the marina, ending up with hobbit-sized (see my screen name) plates of sautéed wood mushrooms, followed by profiteroles with chocolate sauce.

After relaxing by the bay we continued to Beaulieu-sur-Mer for a look at the attractive town and were surprised to see that the renowned hotel Le Metropole was closed—wonder why? We intended to visit the Villa Kérylos, but parking there was none.

A short day seemed like a good idea; so we returned to the B&B and Bob worked on business stuff while I read a book out on the terrace. We had thought to have pizza for dinner, but by the time we bestirred ourselves the place was closed. So we would up at…McDo’s, where the young girl at the counter had a laughing fit when I pronounced hamburger French-style. At 9:00 p.m. the joint was jumping, with many young people enjoying their burgers and frites.

Breakfast on Wednesday was served by our host. Afterwards we headed to Vallauris to see the Picasso and ceramic museums, but trying to find them was interesting. Near a parking lot were posted two maps: one showing restaurants and another indicating the museums, but there were no reference points. Finally we looked across the avenue and saw a picture of Picasso on the side of a building and thought that looked promising.

Vallauris is a pretty town, rather off the beaten tourist track, and there were no crowds in the museums. I skipped most of the ceramics museum because of the inevitable stairs but was able to visit the former chapel where Picasso painted his War and Peace on the walls and ceilings. Bob, a major Picasso fan, was enthralled, but I preferred a large, whimsical sculpture of a cut-up dragon laid out in chunks on serving platters, done by a Chinese artist.

Then we went to Cannes, my least favorite of the Côte d’Azur cities. But this time, out of season, it was very pleasant, and we had an extraordinarily good pizza for lunch at La Pizza, the best I’ve had in many, many years: heavy on cheese, including provolone. We people-watched (two Japanese men were especially chic) conference attendees from the nearby Palais de Congress and hissed at one man smoking a cigar.

The underground parking lot at the end of the marina was convenient but lacked an elevator, despite having disability spaces—strange—and I had to hoist myself up a set of stairs. The pizza was worth it, though, and I still dream about it.

We dined again with our friends, this time on a delectable meal of spaghetti au pistou—a lovely, fresh sauce similar to the Italian pesto.

All in all, a very nice day.

Came Friday, our last day at the Bastide des Oliviers, and we began packing, a task I’ve come to hate more and more with each trip. Then we went back to the Auchan supermarket for a few last things to take home, afterwards having lunch at the Miam/Miam Asian buffet. Really good food: we had samosas, spring rolls, and a chicken dish with a yummy coconut sauce.

That evening our hosts invited us to join them for Champagne and appetizers; we spent a pleasant hour talking with them before one of our friends arrived to see the Bastide. He was invited to join our little group, and he and our host had a wonderful time discussing (in very rapid French) flying (both have pilot’s licenses), the environment, and the vagaries and frustrations of the French bureaucracy.

Then we picked up our other friend and their teen-aged daughter and went off to Valbonne for dinner at Daniel Desavie, a restaurant owned by friends of our friends. M. Desavie worked for 23 years with Roger Vergé and is a very talented chef; his wife, Chantal, runs the front of the house. For 37 Euros each (!) we had a fabulous meal, beginning with complimentary Kir Royales and an amuse-bouche of a very light tuna mousse. That was followed by house-made duck foie gras and a delectable small piece of rouget with a tiny salad. The main course was sûpremes de volaille stuffed with morilles, served with an elegant cream sauce, accompanied by a frite-look-alike of socca and green beans. With the meal we drank a very nice St-Joseph.

After a cheese course that included a piece of tête de moine shaped like a trumpet flower we had assorted desserts. Mine included a light chocolate cake with a molten chocolate filling and two other chocolate creations; the hit of the evening, however, was the plate holding a light coffee mousse, a coffee cream, and coffee ice cream. Our teen-aged friend had an oversized martini glass layered with fresh fruit, accompanied by two fruit sorbets. She had a wonderful time snapping photos and trying to reach her brother on her cell phone to tell him what he was missing (he being in Lyon at the university and unable to come home while we were there).

The restaurant is the very model of a French provincial restaurant, beautifully decorated, warm in feeling, and welcoming. I’m sure than Daniel Desavie will soon be awarded his first Michelin star; so when you go, and you SHOULD go, reserve in advance, especially on the week-end.

We drove back to our friends’ home by way of a dark, scary road that I remembered from other visits—but just as we reached the bottom of the hill a beautiful fox ran across the road in front of us, under the moonlight. What a magical end to a perfect evening.

I'm really enjoying your report, Jean. That's too bad that you didn't get to the Gault studio; isn't it strange how something that seems so easy to do in guidebooks,etc., can turn out to be so difficult? We have at least one or two (or more!) of those experiences each trip.

Exactly--and so many guidebooks say that seeing a particular sight is important but then fail to give the address and/or directions for finding it. Grrrr!

Another appreciative reader, Jean. Despite the various travails, you do manage to imbue your recountings with a lovely serenity, as another reader pointed out! How was the weather? I would think that October would be a perfect time for your expedition, with cooler temps and fewer tourists about. Was there much of a tourist presence in your travels or were things assez calme?
letour

Hi again, letour--

We had excellent weather, although not really seasonal: days in the high 70's, low 80's; cool nights.

Not a whole lot of tourists, mostly locals going about their business on those nasty little windy roads with heavy stone fences on either side--very exciting at night, I can tell you.

One problem with going off-season: less stock in some shops.

Saturday…time to leave the Bastide

After the usual excellent breakfast we began packing, a bit frantically, as we needed to leave earlier than planned. It soon became evident that all the lovely stuff we had added to our belongings was just never going to fit in our luggage; so once again we determined that we needed to buy yet another suitcase. We bade a tearful farewell to our hosts (my hand was kissed!!!), promising to keep in touch, and took off for the Carrefour near Antibes.

Well, let me tell you that is not an easy place to find! It’s visible from the autoroute to Nice, but actually locating it is something else entirely. We stopped four people on various roads before finally getting on the right one, pulled into the immense parking lot, and realized finding a space was not going to be simple. Eventually I got out and Bob drove around and around in the car while I went inside, found the luggage shop our hostess had recommended, bought a good suitcase on sale, and went back outside to find Bob just pulling up. Not bad.

We arrived in Nice around 12:30, found the hotel, and drove right past the narrow little street where the hotel’s entrance was located. Then came the fun. Bob drove up one one-way street and down another, trying to get us back to the Promenade des Anglais; it would have been soupe de canard were it not for all the construction still going on in and around the Place Masséna. We spent about 1-1/2 hours (really!) weaving our way through the maze before we could get back to the hotel, the Mercure Promenade des Anglais.

Bob dropped me and the luggage off and went to return the car to the Europecar agency just around the corner. By then it was too late to turn the car in two days early so we had to settle for a one-day refund.

One of the nice guys on duty in the hotel lobby offered to help me get the luggage upstairs (no porters) to our very nice room with a view of the Mediterranean. (See the hotel review at Underhill’s Trip Report.) I unpacked some things—having a day bed up against the room’s rear wall made dealing with the luggage much less back-breaking than usual—while waiting for Bob’s return.

Later we took a taxi to the Cours Saléya, did some more shopping (we had to fill up that new suitcase, after all), and later had dinner in Vieux Nice at La Claire Fontaine (excellent spaghetti bolognaise and lasagna). After dinner we walked past a photographer’s shop (name of Martinetti) where we had earlier bought posters for a friend, hoping to get one for us. The owner was just closing up but let us in, and he and Bob had a good chat about cameras. Afterwards, for lack of another taxi, we walked slowly back to the hotel along the beautiful Promenade.

Sunday, our last full day in Provence

We enjoyed an excellent buffet breakfast at the hotel, then headed over to the Cours Saléya for lunch at Alexander’s. The food was okay, but an accordion player came along and entertained us for half an hour, playing many of my favorite French songs. The woman who sings à la Edith Piaf was not in evidence, however, although we’d heard her the previous week.

Our friends from Grasse came to meet us in the late afternoon, and we sat for a relaxing hour on the famous blue beach chairs along the Promenade, watching the unusually high waves in the sea. Later we drove over to the Cours Saléya and had apéritifs at a café, then a delicious dinner at La Voglia. The restaurant, very modern in style and featuring Italian food, opened about two years ago; it’s at the near end of the marketplace, kitty-corner from Le Pain Quotidien. We’d heard that the food was excellent, and it certainly was. One of our friends and I ordered baked rigatoni, which came on a very stylish large platter set on a stand: there was easily enough for six people, and although the men in the party helped out, there was still plenty left over. But no sacs de chien, alas. We arrived at the restaurant just as it opened at 7:00, and half an hour later it was full, with a line out the door—very popular place, with good reason.

Our friends drove us back to our hotel, and we said our good-byes—easier than doing so at their home, but still hard.

And so to bed for our last night in Provence.