2018-05-24 Sainte Sara Noir

They say a picture tells a 1000 words. There is no way to describe the scene and the day, therefore:

Men dance and drink

Chica's party all day with their families

Little Chica shoes and Crazy Antonio

Everyone dances. Many dress for the occasion

Audience participation is encouraged

Even the waitress dances - wait for your beer!

The guardians arrive on their horses for the procession

Caty and Elena sit in the sun all day

Kids with guitars join in

The waitress smokes, serves beer and dances

See, I told you. Ole!

The processional has it's own security force

The guardians lead the way. The Church is in the background

Saint Sara Noir arrives, held high above the heads of the crowds

Waiting for the processional at the beach

The guardians waiting for Sara in the water

The Black Sara arrives for the blessing

Sandy, hot, tired and wet. Ready for more!

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

2018-05-22 SMDLM

 

Main square in front of the Church

Today, the crowd grows, and the music begins to waft in the nooks and crannies of the multiple squares located around the small town. Harvey and I are early risers, not so much Caty. We sneak out for coffee and croissants. Today we expect Elena, who is a CIA agent and Zumba instructor from D.C. and oh, she is originally from Mother Russia.  She will take our place at the apartment. Harv and I will move to another location. Also expected to arrive today is Annette, who we met 15 years ago. Annette lives in Arles, is a Flamenco dancer and she too will spend the night at Caty’s so she doesn’t have to catch the last bus out of town at 5pm.

 

This Video was made the first time we visited SMDLM  - 2010  (Harvey still smoked) It features Annette dancing.

 

Caty and I have spied a special dress store and ditch poor, long suffering harvlah to go shopping. But of course, as we enter the door the saleslady squeals, “Caty, Caty, Caty!” The magic is in repeating the name 3 times. Oy. Hugs are given, introductions made, and dresses are bought.

Time to check in at our new digs. Douglas Adams started out his Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy with the advice to always bring a towel with you. He must had traveled extensively in France before the rest of the universe. Many French rentals do not come with linens or towels.  It is the norm. Knowing this, we have checked the amenities for all of out Airbnb’s very carefully. For our rental in SMDLM, I have checked twice, because if I need to, I will buy towels at the gypsy marche’. 

Open Air- Pop Up Gypsy Marche

Arriving at the rental office, we find out there are no linens provided. I beg to differ. We bring up the rental information which clearly states, towels, linens, beach-towels and un petite desunage. The rental agent is astounded and simply shrugs her shoulders. What is she to do? What are we to do? The town is packed. This apartment was the only thing available on any rental site, as we thought we would be staying in the apartment above Caty.

Rasputin - Rom Gypsy Music

At the last minute we found out that somehow, the arrangements were not made properly. Blame it on the language or lack of. By then, all of our tickets had been bought. We are stuck with this apartment. Trying to make lemonade with lemons – but just not enough sugar.

We had an upstairs balcony

Harv and I agree that we can sleep on the futon without sheets – pretending we are camping, but we absolutely must shower and dry off. We head out to the Marche’ to buy towels.

 

A lovely hotel in town

Perhaps our rental agent knows that she and the owner can be barred from Airbnb when false advertising is involved.  Harv’s second nap is interrupted with a knock on the door and wahlah, sheets and towels are delivered. SMDLM is saved from the fate of our B.O.

Lunch on the street