Lake Léman, Summer 2008 Part 2

Day 8. Today is the end of our south of France adventure. At least for this year. Before it started, I was afraid a week would be too long. But in the end, I was sad to say goodbye to the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean. I wondered when I would swim in it again…

Menton. We continue to drive right alongside the sea towards Italy this time. Thierry wanted to pass by Menton, the French city right next to Italy where his grandparents the side of his mom lived when they got old.

He had fond memories here of many summers spent with his family. We walked by the apartment building where his grandparents used to live and the beach they had frequented. He took some photos with his phone and sent them by MMS to his parents.

We stopped for coffee (in my case, tea) and croissant in a quaint café that had cushy seats under pretty yellow straw umbrellas that looked right down on the beach below.

San Remo, Italy. Then we’re off to Italy, driving along the coast of the Italian Riviera then through the northwestern side towards the direction of Switzerland. We stopped in San Remo for some authentic Italian pizza. It’s good, but I actually prefer just the take-out pizzas you find everywhere around France. I kid you not, French pizza is very, very good.

We’re now headed northwards to Switzerland this time passing through the Alps. If I am beach person, then Thierry is a mountain creature. He couldn’t wait to show me how the mountain was even more beautiful than the sea. Here are some of the sights we passed.

The highest peak in the Alps ranges is Mont Blanc into which they have carved a road tunnel, 11.6 kilometers long. We enter on the side of Italy and emerge on the French side. They have countless tunnels in this region of Italy but this one is the longest by far. Thierry had to pay a 32euro toll to pass through the tunnel one-way and so was complaining and ranting all the way through the 12 minutes or so it took to get to the other side.

Day 9. Thonon Les Bains. We spend two nights here in what is sort of an apartment hotel. Very cozy, all the comforts of a hotel but bigger and with your own grassy backyard for sunbathing or eating outdoors. After 8 nights in a tent and shared toilets, it was pure luxury.

Thonon-Les-Bains is a picturesque town known for its spas and what they call here Thalassa thérapie. Don’t ask me what that is, I don’t know, I didn’t get one.

Anyway, Thonon is right beside Evian, where the mineral water comes from. These are two of the towns located around the shore of Lake Léhman, or otherwise known as Lake Geneva. (See below photo of me with an Evian bottle.)

We only had one full day here so we had to decide wisely how to spend it. Gosh there were so many places to see, I’m sure we’ll have to visit again another time. But for now, we decided to start the day with a visit to Yvoire and its Jardin des Cinq Sens or Garden of the Five Senses.

Here are some sunflower fields we passed by on the drive to Yvoire.

Yvoire. This medieval city is ranked as one of the International Laureates of Floral Decorations, and is a member of the Association of the Most Beautiful Villages of France.

Built in the 14th Century, Yvoire to this day possesses the essential elements of a medieval fortification: the castle, doors and ramparts. I know that while talking about my visits in France, I will often say, most beautiful this, most beautiful that. But seriously, this is the most beautiful town I’ve visited, so far. It was absolutely, absolutely beautiful! I will say no more, and let the pictures speak for themselves.

Le Labyrithe Jardin des Cinq Sens. Lying within the heart of Yvoire, this garden is classified by the French Ministry of Culture as Jardin Remarquable. What used to be the castle’s former kitchen garden was restored in the original medieval style.

Each section is dedicated to a specific theme. For example, one garden is devoted to plants and flowers growing in the Alpine region. Another, to old roses, with a fantastic view of the castle.

A cloister is planted with medicinal and aromatic plants. While lilies abound in the Garden of Fragrances where visitors are encouraged to gently rub leaves of plants to release their scent.

In the Garden of Textures, we were instructed to use the back of our hand to stroke the leaves. Some of them smooth and velvety, others rough or prickly or sticky. The Garden of Flavours had fruit and vegetables, but we were requested to taste only with our imagination.
















The Garden of Sight was a flurry of blues and purples and pinks.































The sense of hearing is represented by the babble of water in the fountain and the singing of birds in the little aviary and all around.

Lake Léman / Lake Geneva. After lunch in Yvoire, we went on a boat tour of Lake Léman, which is the largest fresh water lake in Central Europe. During the tour, the guide pointed out the towns and beaches surrounding the lake and mentioned that one beach was popular among naturists.

Being the curious little person that I am, I just had to go. By the time the boat tour finished, it was late afternoon, so it was perfectly reasonable to want to just relax on the beach, right? We went back to the hotel to put on our swim suits, and we headed down to the lake.

This is one more fabulous surprise for me. I thought mountain regions were always cold. Because where we live, in Franche-Comte, even in summer I was frequently cold. But that’s another region.

Here, it was no less warm than the south. The weather was perfect! And I had no idea we could go to the beach. I was sure the lake would be too cold. Wrong again. (Note: Before coming to France, the beach to me was always, well, the beach. As in salty water. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I'm from the Philippines. But I realized that in fact, it can mean the shore of any body of water, including a lake.)

It was my first time to swim (wade, actually) in a proper lake. (I’m not counting the lake in Wuhan, sorry.) I loved it! Lake Léman is absolutely beautiful and the water so calm and tranquil, just the way I like it.

Triumphantly, Thierry said, “Now you believe me? Mountains are better. They’ve got everything! Skiing resorts in winter, gardens and lakes in summer.” But more than that, he prefers this region because it isn’t crowded and overpriced like in the south.

Day 10, Geneva. Our last stop before returning back home. This is me and the swans posing in front of the giant Jet D’Eau, or water fountain, which propels 500 litres of water per second to a height of 140 metres at a speed of 200 km per hour!

We took a street train tour of the city, but didn’t take many pictures. Like Thierry says, it’s not very touristique. It was all tall buildings, banks, expensive shops. Not his type of town.

South of France, Summer 2008

July 19, 2008. We arrive early Saturday evening at our campsite after an almost 10 hour drive. Traffic going to the south of France gets pretty bad during the weekends of July to August. Many French businesses close for the summer as if on school break just like their kids. And everyone’s desired holiday destination- Cote d’Azur.

The region is actually called Provence Cote d’Azur. The latter-half of that name, Cote D’Azur, or the French Riviera, as it is often known to us English speakers, now conjures images of blue: the long stretch of the Mediterranean sea with big shiny yachts sitting at its ports and European women (of all sizes and ages!) sunbathing topless on the crowded beach.

While the first-half, Provence, calls to mind yellow: a perfect summer day. Sunny, but not exhaustingly hot like I’m used to back home. The warmth reflected in the shamelessly cheery colors of the pottery and tapestry sold everywhere. And oh, the smell of lavender.










Camping. It was my first time. Everyone who knows me knows I love the beach. But the thought of camping terrified me. A night or two, maybe I can handle. But Thierry reserved 8 nights at this camping resort. When I expressed my concern, he said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll like it.” He admitted later though that he was just faking his confidence.

So let me explain why I’m scared of camping. Maybe because I’m Filipino, my idea of this outdoor activity involved hiking for hours, sleeping in a tent so small your head touched the roof when you sat up, no shower, a hole in the ground as a toilet, no electricity and mosquitoes eating you alive.

That is not to say that that’s how people go camping in the Philippines. I wouldn’t know, because like I said, I’ve never done it. But I was certain it’s something exclusively for the outdoorsy type who enjoys roughin’ it out. That, I’m not.

As I discover, it wasn’t half as bad. Shower rooms with hot water! Dishwashing areas with hot water! Dressing rooms with vanity mirrors and electric outlets for your hairdryer! A bar restaurant that turns into a disco in the evenings! A grocery shop that sells freshly-baked baguette and pastries! All within the camping grounds, a few hundred meters from the beach. Clearly, the French have another idea about camping.

So on the evening of our arrival, we pitch our tent. Actually, Thierry pitches the tent and I, for the most part, watch him. The sun was still up. Summer days here are really long; during the longest day of summer, June 21st, the sun stays up almost ‘til 11pm.

After pitching the tent and having dinner at the intolerably noisy restaurant, we take a walk on the beach. By then it was dark and a full moon shone on the sky, its light glistening on the sea. Our holiday had just begun. A quiet excitement bubbled inside me. We had many more evenings like this ahead and many days to be spent visiting new places.

Then one more pleasant discovery on this first evening- I like sleeping in a tent. In fact, in all these 8 nights, I will fall asleep more easily and restfully than I normally do at home in bed.










7 Days, 7 Visits

Day 1-Sunday, Port Grimaud. Some call this place the Venice of France. The city center is built around a port surrounded by restaurants, shops and small hotels. They have a once a week outdoor market that sells products that are artisanal, meaning homemade or hand-crafted. On the same evening, they have a live band at the center of the square. Tonight it was a group from Brazil.

Perhaps the most popular dish among the French during summer season is their moules marinieres. It’s mussels cooked in white wine with a touch of shallot, garlic and parsley. Super yummy! We have it twice in one week in two different restaurants here in Port Grimaud.

This is Port Grimaud in the evening.

Day 2-Monday, Saint Tropez. It might be odd, but I knew about this city long before I ever stepped in France. I once saw a show on MTV I think, called “Tara does St. Tropez.” No, it wasn’t a that kind of a flick. It was a show with the nymphet Tara Reid going around the world partying. In this one episode, she does St. Tropez.

I remember her in a big expensive yacht during the day and going on and on about how she and her cameraman were gonna try to get inside the world’s most exclusive nightclub there or something like that. Anyway, of course she gets in and gets drunk and shows her underwear or something to that effect.

They say this is the place where tourists go star-sighting. Me, I didn’t see any stars. We went in the middle of the afternoon and it was unfashionably crowded and hot for any star to be out and about.

But I did see some who surely must’ve felt like they had star-quality. Example: Top-down Ferrari deliberately stops in front of the café, door opens, one high-heeled bare leg steps out and poses for a few seconds, then follows a tall thin sexy body clad in a little dress that would fit an eight year old. Let me not leave out, the tiny dog in arm, boobs bouncing as she takes long strides.

Anyway, St. Tropez to me it was all big boats, expensive cars, luxury brand shops, atrociously bad traffic and impeccably fashionable rich-looking snobs all wearing white. And since I didn’t go shopping and was conspicuously wearing yellow, I couldn’t wait to go on to our next destination.

Day 3-Tuesday, Gassin. In France, there is an official association that selects the Most Beautiful Villages of France for their natural patrimony and exceptional architecture. Gassin is named as one. When you enter such a village, you can immediately see the trademark sign that welcomes you to Un des Plus Beaux Villages de France.

While in Gassin, we stumbled upon a little nook that was the studio of an old local painter. He had a few works on display and for sale. He was sitting with two young boys, maybe his grandchildren or students, who were drawing on their pads. I chose two reproductions, one showing the village market and another its natural landscape, to bring home.

Day 4-Wednesday, Grasse and Cannes. Perched on the hills above Cannes, Grasse is known as the perfume capital of the world. Seriously, this is where they create the signature scents of the likes of Dior and Chanel.

We visited the Parfumerie Molinard where they had a museum and a tour guide walked us visitors through the history and process of creating perfume. Unfortunately, it was forbidden to take any picture.

They explained that this region of France has the perfect weather and rich soil for cultivating flowers all year round. Jasmines, violets, lavender, roses, mimosa, tuberoses, honeysuckle abound here. But as it goes with any other industry, it is now cheaper and thus common to import flowers from countries like China, India and Egypt.

But it is still here in Grasse where they process the blossoms and extract the essence. These essences or essential oils make up the components of a perfume. For example, it takes about a ton of rose petals to extract about a quart of this stuff.

It was all very interesting. I learned about the “Nose” which is what they call a master perfumer, the artist/technician who creates or composes a new perfume. To be a “Nose,” he, yes ladies, it is usually a he, has to be able to identify at least 2,000 different scents at a given time. That’s kind of like their board exam. These are people with highly exceptional sense of smell. They say there are only about 220 or 250 (can’t remember) “Noses” in all the world, 50 of whom are in Grasse. It is said that a genuine "Nose" either comes from Grasse or have trained there at some point.

The guide taught us too about “top,” “middle” and “base” notes. She helped us identify main components of some of their best perfumes then described the mood or story behind it. She’d take contrasting ones and made you choose which one you prefer. It was quite an olfactory experience! And a nice ploy too to motivate you into buying a bottle from the gift shop where the tour ended.

I was motivated enough, but I couldn’t remember the name of the scent I really liked. And while I hesitated a little too long, Thierry was already hovering at the exit. And so, I come away from the perfume capital of the world without one bottle of perfume, not one tiny bag of scented stones, nope, nada.

It was early enough to make one more stop, and so we head for Cannes. Famous for the Cannes Film Festival, this city is also popular among the French for la croisette, or its long promenade along the beach which go on for several kilometers. On one side, you have the Mediterranean Sea, some nearby islands off the coast and a mountain range further off. On the other side, you have palm trees, elegant belle-epoque hotels and fashionable boutiques.

We took le petit train du cinema to tour the city and that lasted about an hour. It had a multilingual commentary which tells not only about the Film Festival but all the important celebrity gossip; which movie was made here, which famous star stayed at which hotel, which European royalty met which American actress in which grand hotel here and later got married… etc.

Of course, I wouldn’t go home without a souvenir photo on the red carpet steps of the Grand Auditorium.

Day 5-Thursday, Ramatuelle. Built on the hillside, this village faces out on the famous beaches of Pampelonne. We pick this day to go to Ramatuelle because it is one of the two days in the week when they have their local Provençal market.

It is all a lively mixture of scents and colors. Sacks and sacks of all the spices you can name, bags and bags of lavender and olives, local fruit, artisanal jams and sausages, and those colorful traditional Provençal pottery and tapestry.

Day 6-Friday, Monaco. Officially called the Principality of Monaco, it lies within the territory of France but is its own sovereign. We visited the Oceanographic Museum and the Exotic Garden with its observatory cave. Monegasque, or what the citizens here are called, speak French but unlike in France, they don’t pay income tax. I guess many French wouldn’t mind moving there, that includes Thierry.

A bit of trivia, did you know that Monaco, is home to more billionaires than any other city in the world? Next is Moscow, New York, and London at number four. That's at least according to a recent tv show here in France.

Those in Russia are “new” billionaires thanks to the country’s new market economy. Many of them are young and single so there are now schools there that train young people on the art of “hooking” a billionaire spouse. Very handy.

Day 7-Saturday, Sainte Maxime. On our last day in the region we decided to spend as much time as possible just lounging on the beach. We visited the nearby town of Sainte Maxime, which was just a few minutes from where we were camping. It was just more beach, more shops, more restaurants-- a typical beach town in the south of France.

At the end of eight nights, I was almost wishing we were to stay longer. Well, almost. Eight days is not bad for a first-time camper. And our trip was not yet over. Next stop-- the mountainous region of Alps Maritime ...