To Boston and Beyond

Into America, friends and family

An easy off to the airport with the Blue Shuttle though we had to pick up people from three other hotels in Paris. This was accomplished in good time and we were able to spend some time in the business lounge having breakfast, though this was a distance from our flight gate. The airplane configuration was not as spacious as Qantas or Cathay but it worked well, with a video system that was removable from a pocket in the seat in front and had lots of videos on demand. The tray system was good too, with the tray from the side arm meeting up with one from the seat, providing lots of space. I saw “The Other Boleyn Girl” and enjoyed rather good food service. The seat configuration was very adjustable too, with a footrest at the end of the bed, making the trip quite comfortable. We were not to have this level of comfort from American Airlines again.

There was a problem with the Skybridge in Boston and we had to be pushed back and then docked at a different gate, which took time. We picked up an Elantra and drove off for Rockport MA. This is a pretty little coast town, a fishing village originally, and a relaxed place to spend a night, even though it is quite touristic. At least they preserve their coast, with no high rises, though the real estate prices and beautiful and expensive houses on the coastline may help pay for this. We drove around and admired the lovely houses and the unspoiled bays and beaches.

Coast houses and lobster floats

Rockport harbour

The evening in Rockport was spent walking up Bearskin Neck and photographing the harbour, then eating on the patio of a pretty restaurant at the end of the point, My Place by the Sea. We did protest though, when they offered duck breast; too much, too often, in France! The B&B, Lantana House, was comfy and offered traditional beds and decoration and a welcome breakfast in the morning.

We drove back to Boston down the coast, looking at the towns and lovely houses and wondering at the development which was so restrained compared with Australian coast. There were gorgeous houses with gorgeous views and gorgeous boats in the yacht harbour. Maybe it is all available only to the very rich!

Into Boston to a cute B&B called the Oasis. Our room on the ground floor as requested and a lovely lounge and kitchen outside the bedroom door make it almost like our own apartment. Relatively close to the rail system, the MBTA, too. Greatly amused at the Charlie ticket which recalls the Kingston Trio song “The Man who never Returned”. Inquiries revealed it really was named after the song. Good to have a council with a sense of humour! Loved the huge organic supermarket down the end of the street, the kids playing in the fountain of the Church of Christ, Scientist and the street music by the students waiting for admission to their classes in the Berklee School of Music.

We visited the El-Greco to Velasquez exhibition at the Museum of Fine Art, which was a real treat: such glorious light in paintings and a lovely curation to show the development of their influence on later works. The Museum is to be redeveloped too and will lose its classical facade. Maybe that doesn’t matter in the drive to provide suitable exhibition space. I was impressed with their exhibits and we spent some time in the American section as we are not very familiar with that aspect of art.

Josiah McElheny’s “Endlessly Repeating Twentieth Century Modernism”

We were in Boston to celebrate the first wedding anniversary of our son, Cameron and his wife, Christine. Their wedding had been fairly quick as he had been allowed into America on a fiancé visa, where he needed to marry within three months. They had not been able to involve all family, especially those on the East coast, in a West coast wedding.

Note the paper hats, Cam's being traditionally Australian

So we had a great evening at the hotel meeting lots of family, wearing paper hats to celebrate the paper anniversary and eating delicious food from a perpetual buffet. We felt really included and met lots of people from Christine’s side. A warm welcome to her family and, as expected, zany and fun.

After a delightful breakfast with Christine’s dad, we wandered the park in Boston, heading for the Boston Ducks, which are tours on water and land in old army ducks. I understand these are modelled on Sydney ducks but this might be fanciful. Unfortunately for us, they were so in demand we couldn’t get a berth. Seeing them driving round the city I can understand why they are so popular; they look at lots of sights and seem to have lots of fun and adventure. Finishing by going along the pretty Charles River is a nice way to end a tour.

Instead, as it was a hot day, we fell back on wandering the nearby shopping centre which was blissfully air-conditioned, checking out the enormous bookshop and eventually making our way back to our accommodation past the First Church of Christ Scientist which is a very large temple, library, reflection pool and water fountain built as the foundation church according to Mary Baker Eddy’s beliefs. It is not a church we hear much of here, but it is still quite large in America (and not to be confused with Scientology). That evening we went to the waterfront and ate at Legal Sea Foods, a very popular spot with delicious, fresh fish. As you can see, Cam and Christine enjoyed themselves.

To Portland the next day, first surviving a full body pat-down and luggage search at the airport. We must have been persons of interest, but I would rather they over-searched than didn’t check anyone. This flight was when we discovered that “First Class” on American airlines means a slightly wider seat and being served food and drink without having to pay extra. No film or video, no sleeper seats, no use of business class lounges. Most disappointing! We flew via Dallas-Fort Worth as that is the hub of American Airlines so we got to see the vast tracts of flat land surrounding that area and later the huge salt lake that gives Salt Lake City its name. We came into Portland past several volcanos and were to see more in the chain later in the holiday. Most interesting geology!

Our B&B, The Lion and Rose, was a beautiful Victorian/Craftsman style house built for a beer baron and his family, now beautifully kept by Steve and Sandy. Breakfast was an adventure, not only for American food but for a different and dramatic table colour scheme each day using pretty table china and linen. I still have some difficulty with the very sweet side of breakfasts, the sweet French toast or baked puddings, alongside savoury offerings but I guess it is just a cultural thing. At least I tried it!

Breakfast room, Lion and Rose

With Cam and Christine, and driving our flash, black Mustang hire car, we visited the Rose Test Gardens, just past their first flush of blooms but still very lovely and one of the reasons Portland is known as the Rose City, then on to the Pittock Mansion with views out to Mt Hood and Mt Adams, had they not been blocked by haze. Again the rose gardens were beautiful. There were several weddings being photographed and a costumed picnic by the local historical society. Quite Jane Austen apart from the cell phones and digital cameras!

Pittock Mansion

That night we caught up with two of my cousins and their families who live in Portland, meeting their daughters for the first time and having a relaxing evening in a pretty garden while feasting on wild salmon, gourmet sausages and the best and biggest blueberries I have ever seen or tasted. This side of the family is an unexpected and most pleasant new chapter in our lives since Cam moved to the USA.

We finished the night at Council Peak, the highest spot in town, in the twilight, catching the best view yet of some of the volcanos.

Mt St Helens in the twilight

Over the next days we did over Macys, visited several parks around the city with glorious redwoods and maple trees, and ate at the Widmer Gasthaus and a place called Lovely Hula Hands. I can never tell how much food will be on my plate. An appetiser was more than enough at the Gasthaus and a main course and dessert was just right at Lovely Hula Hands. Still, that can happen in Australia too, with steaks bigger than a plate or dainty morsels a la cuisine minceur.

Jules Verne Restaurant

Dinner at Jules Verne

This was to be a dinner paid for by the unexpected redundancy payment put on the table by my boss when I suggested I resign. Mind you, I was going to resign anyway, as we had already booked our holiday in France for much longer than the 5 weeks leave I had officially applied for. The redundancy was a bonus that allowed us some extravagances which would otherwise not have been possible.

To get into this restaurant you need to book about three months in advance. You apply through a fairly impersonal on-line process, but we did send an email later, asking for a table with a view as we had several things to celebrate; my 60^th, retirement and the end (almost) of the French holiday.

So we set off, all dolled up, to the Eiffel Tower. We were greeted and our reservation checked at the bottom of the private leg of the tower and whisked up to just above the second stage in a lift with a view: two views actually, one on the metalwork and one out to the vistas of Paris. We were greeted by about twenty waiters all in dark suits as we were led through the restaurant to a beautiful corner table with a view out onto Trocadero and the river with its cruise boats. We sat just above the second observation deck of the tower.

The restaurant is in rich chocolate colours with russet trim, cantilevered russet chairs, or banquettes in chocolate leather, white table cloths and napkins in neutral linen about the size of a small bed-sheet. The table was set with unusual ceramic plates in white with irregular hexagons on the bottom, which they turned over to reveal a white show plate. The knife and fork on the table when we arrived looked suitable for keyhole surgery, but they were removed and more suitable cutlery was provided for each course. All in the name of showmanship.

The menu was not extensive but almost anyone could have eaten well, perhaps vegetarians excluded. The emphasis was on quality ingredients sourced from the best places in France. I ordered asparagus and poached egg, followed by rack of milk fed lamb. Nick ordered pea soup with spider crab and Bresse chicken with crayfish. That is bare bones description and of course the presentation was exceptional.

While ordering we were offered little cheese puffs, light and delicate. After ordering we were brought an oval glass with tiny cubes of ham, cucumber, melon, tomato and crisp croutons, each cube about the size of dice cut in four. The waiter poured a little jug of tomato gazpacho over this. It was most refreshing. Three types of bread rolls were offered. We ordered a bottle of Chablis to drink with the meal, but not the wine that cost E4000. We thought we would give that a miss this time.

My asparagus and poached egg also included several crayfish tails and avocado as well as little slices of veal sweetbreads. It was delicious but perhaps overly fussy and had a few too many flavours. Nick’s pea soup was a shallow soup plate with some tiny salad leaves topped with spider crab and peas and surrounded with a foam. The soup was poured around this. Nick finished everything, including the salad which is something for him.

The lamb was tiny and the waiter was at pains to point out that it had been roasted on a turning skewer and was therefore very juicy, which it was. There were tiny little rib cutlets and then a roll of boneless loin. It was served with a transparent rectangle about half A4 size standing upright. This turned out to be strips of potato somehow fused together to make the biggest crisp. Fun, pretty and yummy! Nick’s Bresse chicken was rolled and roasted and presented with several crayfish tails and the crustacean sauce poured around it. He was a good boy and left the skin, as did I, but everything else was eaten with relish, though he couldn’t quite finish all the sauce.

We were content by this time to sit and look at the view as the sun set

and also watch the amazing number of people who brought young children to the restaurant. A great way to see Paris and the kids were really well behaved but the cost obviously didn’t faze them. I heard one waiter saying that one family party owned a large hotel in Paris, so that may explain things.

Having been prompted to look for the dessert that appears like a rusty bolt, I ordered that and Nick the deconstructed Black Forest Cake. This came in a martini glass, a layer of choc mousse, topped with macerated cherries, whole cherries and Chantilly. On the side was a perfect looking choc macaroon which held cherry confiture and ice cream. All the ingredients, just arranged differently. Mine was in two parts as well. On the plate was not a bolt but a large industrial nut to screw onto a bolt, a play on the idea of it having come off the tower itself which is actually a brownish colour up close and personal. The “bolt” looked metallic and the centre was filled with dark chocolate sauce. Under the metallic coat was a chocolate ganache on a hazelnut praline base. Incredibly rich and yummy. On the side, a dish of hazelnut icecream and some caramelised nuts, basically to cut the richness of the choc “bolt”. I was determined that the metallic look of the covering needed to be explained. Finally I had it confirmed that gold leaf is mixed through to give the sheen of metal. Very clever!

We were also given mignadises, little cakes, macaroons, marshmallows and choc cubes. We stretched our time out nibbling occasionally as the tower lit up with a million stars flickering, then went a deep blue.

On Bastille day, our last in France, there was a parade in the street and fireworks at Trocadero, opposite the tower. What a fabulous finale to the French part of our holiday and what a great way that dinner was to celebrate several milestones in my life. It was nicely ironic that the redundancy paid for it all.

Encore Provence

L'Isle sur la Sorgue to Moustiers St Marie to Menton

The route from L'Isle took us close to Silvacane Abbey, another Cistercian Abbey. It was most peaceful with a simplicity that invokes reverence.

Silvacane Abbey

Well in the cloister garden

We came to Moustiers St Marie in the mountainous area of the Haute Provence. Our little B&B there was below the town, hosted by a fairly eccentric gentleman who nevertheless has a lovely house and served a great breakfast (and dinner, had we but known!)

La Bastide de Paradou

We walked up a steep road on a hot afternoon to get to the squares and shops. The town is set between two high, rocky crags split by a tumbling stream and between the crags,in the middle ages, someone slung a chain and star . They replace it about twice a century. It hangs above the gorge and a little chapel (which we did NOT climb to).

The chapel and star up high

A pretty place, full of tourist shops selling the local china called faience, cafes selling ice cream and artists selling their paintings. Always, there is the sound of running water and quite a few springs with clear, cold water with which to splash oneself in the heat.

We had a lovely meal at Les Sablons while a percussion band played in the church square as part of a music festival. We sat looking over the stream, watching the parapenters descend, sometimes so close, as the sky turned purple.

The meal was imaginative, a terrine of chicken liver, a magret of duck with pumpkin tart and honey glaze and a dessert called feuillete of apple which was made from thin slices of apple, slightly dried so as to be flexible, arranged like a rose and served with good vanilla icecream and a shot glass of caramel sauce. There seemed to be no reason to leave this peaceful spot and we sat listening to the music and sipping our wine.

On Sunday we drove the Verdon Gorges. If my white knuckles were anything from the last gorges of Tarn and de la Jonte, this time my fingernails left crescents in my palms. This is so sheer and so deep that it is impossible to capture on film and of course the roads are narrow, right on the edge and often unfenced in any way.

I kept thinking that there are four postcard sized pieces of rubber in contact with the road that keep us on the road and not over the edge. Not relaxing! The motorbikes were out in force too, going very fast and seeming to love the danger of it all. We saw one accident as we came down a hill, with lots of bikies in attendance and the sounds of an ambulance approaching.

One of the roads

There are warnings all along the gorges about not venturing down as water levels can change quickly. We remembered that some people had died here just a few weeks ago because of this. These are dangerous and unpredictable river valleys.

Coming out of the gorges

Lake St Croix

At the end we came into Lake St Croix, an artificial lake caused by damming further down. This lake is the most unbelievable blue. The photo is unretouched. It really is this colour, from glacial melt apparently.

On our way again, we stopped at Thoronet Abbey. The cloisters were pretty with a lovely lavabo fountain in one corner, though the gardens could have been kept better. We have now visited the three Cistercian abbeys in Provence, Senaque, Silvacane and Thoronet. They all have a purity of line and simplicity of building that is specifically Cistercian.

Lavabo at Thoronet

Virgin and child, the only image

They didn’t decorate or use stained glass or statues, apart from a veneration of the Virgin, according to the rule of St Benedict, whose original town we visited in Norcia in Italy, so things are rather pure and austere. Lovely! Only Senaque is still used by monks but all are preserved as part of the national heritage. France takes this seriously.

Our trip along the Cote d’Azur was interesting. We took the coast road through places like Cannes, Nice, Monaco and Antibes. I had no idea the places were so built up and, apart from a few places for the very rich, so much like Surfers Paradise on a bad day.

Huge apartment complex

We saw a lot of shops and light industry. I guess the rich and famous keep away from the through roads. Changes in colour of the rocks were interesting, with one section becoming quite red from the hillsides right out into the ocean. The water was a clean, clear blue/green and looked most inviting early on, but the smog of Nice hung in the distance. The road ran for miles between the fenced in railway line and a row of cars parked for the beach. I guess there were shops and things below the narrow boardwalk but it didn't look appealing to us.

Beach road!!!

Our little hotel is on the waterfront at Menton, one of many. If you cross the busy road you can walk on a boardwalk, under which are shops and restaurants which then lead to the pebbly beach. Most of the beach area has to be hired and you get a lounge and umbrella set up in neat rows for your money. You choose which one to go to and pay your money. Most of them are attached to airy restaurants with bars and lounge chairs. I can think of worse ways to spend the day! There are small public beaches too for which you do not have to pay.

A Menton private beach

The next morning was very hot and very bright. We had wandered through Menton, found the cathedral at the top of the hill closed, seen the usual tourist shops and cafes and eaten ices at a glacier where you could assemble your own favourite ices and toppings and pay by weight. What a temptation! We had thought to visit other towns nearby but it was just too hot and the parking was impossible, so we stayed in Menton. The houses on the hills nearby are obviously old money, quite palatial. At the waterfront road it is all hotels and apartments and restaurants. Everyone, except us and the English tourists, was tanned and everyone was sunbaking. I feel like saying “Slip, slop, slap”. The only warnings you see are for sunglasses and those are ads. Older people look like leather and still wear bikinis or go topless on the beach.

Pretty town of old Menton

We wandered to the beachfront restaurants for a meal where I again indulged in mussels. Here they come in a big covered casserole and you turn the lid over to use for all the detritus. Always more than I can eat. The restaurant had a large sliding roof to open to the skies and a terrace edging the sands with pretty lamposts for light. It was lovely just to sit in the evening light. This doing nothing and having no particular place to go is growing on me, as are siestas.

It was odd to leave all this sun and heat to head off into the Alps the next day on our way to Briancon. Farewell, Provence!

A week in Provence

Living in L'Isle sur la Sorgue

The house here in L’Isle sur la Sorgue is just delightful and the owners have been really thoughtful, leaving books, lovely tablecloths and platters as well as provisions such as oil and vinegar, salt, sugar, coffee, tea, several bottles of wine, olives and so on. It is entered through a gate and arch, up a set of stairs to a terrasse where there are table and chairs, deck chairs and a day bed, a pergola with vines and roses and lights for the evening. In off the terrasse there is a lovely kitchen with all we could need including a dishwasher. There is a dining room and a salon in distressed chic, with beautiful couches, a TV, Gameboy, video player and videos (all in French), connection to the internet and lots of lovely books including some in English. Tres jolie!

Dining room and stairs

Upstairs are two double bedrooms, one with its own modern shower and basin, another bathroom, a single bedroom and a toilet. Lovely shuttered windows and literally two minutes from the main area of town on foot. It is like the owners have just left us their own house to live in for a while. Serge was most hospitable and eager that we should like his place. We do. What a find!

The first night we sat beside the water in a little restaurant as the sun was going down and drank rose wine from the area and ate coquilles St Jacques. The next day we went to the weekly market and bought food for a few days. I also wanted to buy French tablecloths and the beautiful quilted throws that they use on beds but they won’t fit in the suitcase. The local knives, too, are a work of art and are world famous. Hand made in Laguiole in Averyon, they are the wooden handled ones with a bee on the back where handle and blade meet. I may still get some but depending on the handle, they can cost up to E50 each so I am thinking about it. We came back for lunch on the terrasse, ham and bread and olives and tomato and peaches, with a jazz band playing outside the gateway. Doesn’t get much better than that.

Street musicians

Cafe de France

This little town is on the Sorgue river and used to have a lot of mills driven by the rushing water which comes gushing out of the earth a few miles away at Fontaine de Vacluse. The water divides into channels all over town, so everywhere you get the sound of water. There are still some mill wheels turning but these days they are pretty rather than functional. All the mills got turned into houses or into antique shops so the area is famous for its antiques.

Water past the cafes

Today at the antique market we found a piece of silverware that we had not seen before. It had a handle like a large silver knife, very ornamental, and a funnel like piece where the blade would be, two half cylinders as it were, which could be screwed closed. What on earth???? So I asked. It is to screw onto the bone end of the lamb leg roast to hold while you carve it. What a great idea and why did it go out of fashion? Do they make modern ones? A new thing to track down info about.

Dried artichoke flowers for sale

So after the market on Sunday, which was great fun, we went to Glanum, which is an old site, first local Gauls, then Greeks then Romans, sacred springs and temples to Jupiter and so on. Really cute to see tiny French kids visiting in togas and Roman or Greek clothes while their teachers taught them about their patrimony, which is really big here.

Sacred Spring, Glanum

Later we went to Les Baux which was so high we decided against climbing up, but we did go to the Cathedral d’Images which projects images on the caverns created by the old bauxite mines (Les Baux, hence Bauxite) These are huge caves looking rather like Egyptian temples and inside they show a different projection, with music, each year. This year it was Van Gogh, images of his towns and writing, and of his drawings and paintings. It was really quite an experience but difficult to capture on film. The caverns are really very large and the camera could only focus on a part, so you miss the hugeness and being surrounded that you have when you are there.

Cathedral d'Images

We also climbed all over the abbey of Montmajour, a ruin now for the most part, but originally Carmelite and quite moving with its old cloister and deep crypt and burial places chipped out of solid rock (not very deep).

St Croix chapel near Montmajour

We are finding that the cooler weather allows us to do walking and climbing we would not do in the hot sun. So on Tuesday we visited the old town of Oppede. The town was high up a hill, necessary to be fortified against invaders, but as that need declined, people declined to climb so high each day. They made a new village on the flat and the old one rotted and fell. During and after WWII people decided to revitalise the village and now there is one section which has a hotel and lovely houses,

Renewed Oppede village

a later section which is ruined stone and a high section where a lovely church has been/is being restored, courtesy of the French Patrimony again. We walked to the church and I feel quite proud of myself, though getting down on slippery cobbles is not as easy as going up. Lovely views of the Luberon countryside as well.

Oppede church

I had wanted to revisit Fontaine de Vacluse, the site where the Sorgue river comes out of a massive spring, as last time we had not reached the source (think hot summer weather, droopy Lynn) Today we got there early in the day and walked to the top. The level of the river is higher than four years ago. Then we saw the river bursting out under rocks in the sides of the stream. Today those sources were mainly under the foaming, roaring waters that began in a “peaceful” pool whose force was only revealed by the rush of water over the rocks and down into the river. Not a chance if you fell in close to the edge, but in typically French fashion, a warning sign was all the protection you got. Anyway, I love it. Amazing stuff for the start of the river that runs through our little town in a myriad of energetic streams.

The deceptively still pool of the spring

Massive water flows from the spring

We revisited Senanque Abbey which is always like a serene ship in a valley of lavender. The lavender not quite in bloom yet, and the sunflowers only just beginning in crops around.

Senaque

Ended up in Roussillon which has many ochre pigments in the soil and all the houses coloured in shades or red and pink and yellow. Spent a great deal of time on a very nice terrasse consuming salad, ices and coffee and feeling like we had no particular place to go. Very addictive.

Roussillon

A revisit to Pont du Gard was certainly in order. I marvel at this structure, built to carry water to Avignon. It was the equivalent of the Millau Viaduct of its day. Now people walk over it and play in the waters under it. Groups of children were having kayak lessons, floating down the currents and over gentle rapids.

Pont du Gard

Colourful kayaks

The seaside area of Sts Maries de la Mer also deserved a revisit as we were determined to see the flamingos that the area is noted for. There were many horses being ridden across the beaches and marshy areas and it turned out that a festival was on in town. This area is noted for its horses, horsemanship and cattle. We saw a few flamingos at a distance but not the flocks we had hoped for, alas! I did photograph the lovely set of lights along the beach boardwalk and a warning sign that tickled my sense of humour.

Boardwalk lights

How to end a wonderful week? Good food seemed to be the answer so we took ourselves to a restaurant recommended by our host, the Restaurant sur la Quai. Located in a pretty garden at the back of an antiques shop, with some eclectic decoration such as grazing fibreglass cows, fountains and pergolas, we found to our surprise that there was a set menu, no choices. We were first served a cucumber gazpacho in cones of ice, standing in a glass, then pretty rouget adorned with tomatoes, herbs and purple potato crisps. The main course was a white fish fillet with rocket, adorned with truffle shavings and a buttery sauce, on mushrooms. To complete a pristine creme fraiche on a crumble base with peach sorbet and raspberries. Very good. I wonder how well patronised it would be in Australia?

The garden

Next stop is Moustiers St Marie so Nick can drive yet another gorge. Help!!