I've mentioned a few times the generosity of our B&B hosts: Micky and Jacques. On the Sunday that she drove Lynn and Mike to the airport, she returned to the house to prepare our breakfast. But this time, she and Jacques joined us at the table. "I have a great idea," Micky said. "Jacques has some business to take care of at our beach home in St. Tropez. Why don't you follow him down there and stay at our house for the night." We had been planning to begin our trip back to Paris by visiting Aix-Ex-Provence, making our way back north. St. Tropez was further east and south. But Micky promised us it would be a special treat and wouldn't take us much out of our way. It took us about a minute to say yes. Jacques would be visiting his mother who was in a senior home there and would leave the key for us. He prepared a detailed map showing the location of the house on the outskirts of the village and off he went. We followed an hour later.
Here's the map Jacques drew for us to find his house in St.Tropez.
St. Tropez, of course, is one of those sun-coast towns filled with the jet setters and such. But it's also a beautiful village with a magnificent harbor and streets that climb up to the hills behind it for fabulous views. We found their home in a development of 1950ish homes. Next to their beautiful and modern Montepellier home this was more rustic - a beach house for the family to escape to from time to time. Or "camping" as Jacques put it. It was a wonderful experience and a lovely place to rest our bodies. The bonus? A room without charge for a change! We unpacked the Ford van and set off, on foot, to explore St. Tropez.
Boats in the harbor at St. Tropez.
We walked along the waterfront and came to the town's well known museum, Musee de L'Annociade where we entered to view the current exhibit on Matisse and The Fauvists (The Beasts). Matisse led other artists in the use of brilliant and outlandish colors in their impressionism and this school was referred to as the Fauvists.
Stacey at the Musee de L'Annonciade.
The Fauvists (aka beasts) used intense and outlandish colors to impart the feel, color and warmth of southern France.
We left the museum and walked along the old harbor that was filled with very fancy British sailing yachts, in town for some sort of race. Even though it was mid-October, crowds filled the shorefront with a buzz and excitement as they pressed to get a look at each and each every boat, one more fantastic than the next.
The harbor was filled with fancy British racing sail boats.
This boat was equipped with gleaming brass fittings throughout including the steering wheel!
The sky was filled with the masts of boats that crowded the harbor.
Harbor side was filled with people gawking at the yachts at anchor in the bay.
Stacey and I sat in one of the harbor-side cafes and watched the tumultuous scene on the sidewalk out front. Then we escaped to the peace and quiet of the town's back streets. We wandered up the hill to the ramparts of an old fortress with a commanding view of the habor below. It was quite a view.
Stacey poses in front of an old stone wall on the town's peaceful back seats.
Quite a view from the ramparts high above town.
St. Tropez - tres romantique.
Late day shadows on the fortress wall.
We planned to meet Jacques for dinner and agreed to meet him at one of the town squares, the Place des Lices. While we waited, Stacey and I had a drink at a cafe and watched the sun set. All around us were groups of men and women who were indulging in the French version of bocce, which is called Pétanque. Here's a Google reference that describes this very social game, a favorite of southern France --
The game of boules, otherwise known as pétanque , is perhaps the sport that is closest to French hearts. Similar to British lawn bowling or Italian bocce , the French version is traditionally played with metallic balls on a dirt surface beneath plane trees, with a glass of pastis at hand. The local boulodrome is a social focal point in southern France. The object of the game is to throw your balls — usually with somewhat of an arched back-spin — so that they land closer to the small object ball (cochonnet ) than those of your opponent, or strike and drive the object ball toward your other balls and away from your opponent's.
The French game Pélanque being played in the Place des Lices at St. Tropez.
My ball's closer than yours!
We finally met Jacques and he took us on a little tour of his town. His mom, now in a home, lived on the main street, Rue Gambetta. They were selling it now and he had some inventory to account for and, thus, his trip down here. First though, we had dinner at a lovely restaurant overlooking the harbor. And then a tour of his mom's house and a walk back to his house on the edge of town.
Jacques met us for dinner.
The house that belonged to Jacques' mother on Rue Gambetta. He took us inside which was a treat. We would never have gotten to see the interior of one of these grand old houses. This one was built in 1820!
A painting by Jacques' father of a funeral in Patagonia in Chile. Jacques, a geologist, has followed in his dad's footsteps and has worked all over the world searching for mineral deposits and oil sites.
The next morning we left early and began our return trip to Paris. Our first stop was Aix-En-Provence. More of that in my next post.
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