Saturday, June 2, 2018

2018-05-23 SMDLM-Arle-Nimes


Arles from the bus station

 We have been invited today, to join Johanna, Oliver, Ella and Paul to their weekend “home” outside of Arles for a picnic. It will be a busy day, as tonight we drive to Nimes to see` the incomparable Ricao Bissiere in concert.
I would like some cheese please and a chicken

Arles is an easy and picturesque 30-minute drive thru the Carmargue (fancy French swamp dotted with horses and flamingos). Annette rides home with us and we will shop at the Weds. marche’ for our picnic items.  Annette’s home is close by the marche on a pedestrian street. Yep, the French have streets in cities that you cannot drive on. Oh, the wonder! There are special barriers that sink below the streets when vehicles absolutely must get by. The pedestrian streets are the heart of the city. 
The Pirates of Del Mar

Arles Weds. market is not as large as the Saturday one, but damn, I’d kill to have one half the size of today’s, with half the goods anywhere within an hour of Vero Beach. Fort Pierce is anemic by comparison.
Welcome to the farm
Parking is always a problem. We swing thru the bus station, up and down several streets and finally Cathy tells us to jump out and buy roti chicken. She will “find us”.  Trust the process. Annette and Cathy do catch up after we have procured some of the last roti chicken left in the market. Chicken, baguettes, tomatoes, tampanades and chocolate croissants round out the menu. 

We say our found farewell to Annette and blaze off down the street to meet up with Johanna and Ella and follow them to the farm. Hwy’s lead to 2 lane roads, to single farm roads and eventually down a dirt road. Farms dot the landscape. Country homes abound in all sorts of repair and disrepair.

Oliver and Paul await us when we arrive, to swing open the simple rope barrier which keeps the horses on their land. The horses have the run of the place on the weekends, when the family is there. Oliver’s sister has a beautiful home on the next property, with a courtyard under well-established trees. Cars parked, we are lead down the mud road past a corral, a sailboat under a grey tarpaulin and into the glade which is their yard. Every year they replant the grass. It is young and tender; the color of spring. Friends have given them an old caravan, so now they can sleep on their property in comfort. A lovely stucco barn with stables, tack room, large work area, running water and most importantly, a toilet, complete their getaway.
The weekend getaway
A large family table sits surrounded by saplings strung with party lights. Johanna and I set the table, while Cathy anoints her broken toes and the kids swirl around her like banshees, both vying for attention. Oliver and Harvey are off to have a look at the sailboat Oliver is making: a reproduction of a type of vessel made 100 years ago. After lunch, part of the visit is to help Oliver with the 2 masts that need to be raised. A plastic bladder of wine is hung from a low hanging branch (came from a box, ya’ll), in case anyone needs wine with lunch.

We spend several idyllic hours chatting, playing with kids and boat “fixin’ up”. Johanna and Ella will meet us for the concert in Nimes. It’s time to go back to SMDLM to recoup ourselves, find Elena and go to the concert
.
The children anoint Caty's toes
Provence is wonderfully small. An hour drive in any direction will get you someplace magical. It is also one hour to Nimes from SMDLM, but we will leave early because of the dreaded parking! H and I scoped it out while we were there, so if Cathy can get us to the Novotel, we know where to park.

There is more GPS chaos. Cathy has the route she remembers, and GPS disagrees with her. But as we reach the city center of Nimes it becomes more critical to believe in the GPS. Routes have changed because of the Feria. We are running late. Cathy is horrified that the Gypsy’s might sell our tickets if we get there too late. They are gypsy’s you know. This time Elena is expelled from the car to go in and explain we are circling like buzzards around the hotel looking for the parking entrance. With 12 minutes to go, we take the correct turn (remember – many walking only streets intown) into the garage and park, throw on our jackets and run for the stairs.
Our front row tickets are there but where are Johanna and Ella? Cathy takes off again with strict orders to us to tell the folks at the door that we are friends of “Caty de Floride”.


We do indeed have front row tickets and the show is absolutely stunning. Ricao comes out alone and plays masterfully for several songs. All end and begin with
OLE! He is joined on stage by 2 other guitarist, a bassist, a drummer and Flamenco dancers. OLE!


This is one of Ella’s first grown up concerts. She is a bundle of excitement. OLE! Which eventually peaks when she and Elena go on stage to dance the flamenco with others from the audience. OLE!


But in the end, it is Harvey which saves the day, as he is dressed in his magic blue sports coat and goes up to the front desk to ask how much parking will be. We have counted on about 25-35 euros. The desk clerk takes one look at the distinguished American gentleman who speaking bad French and comps the parking. OLE!


Ella Bella dances

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