Pluses & Minuses

 Breakfast in bed - what a splurge, and the list of foods available is so promising - but then what arrived at our hotel room door was a little sad. Half-full cups of coffee and juice, tiny factory-made croissants, one slice of ham in lieu of charcuterie, and a canned fruit salad...though the giant tray that arriving at the door so we could lie in bed and luxuriate little bit longer was wonderful, I would've preferred getting up and walking to a nearby patisserie for freshly-baked croissants instead! Especially for the price we paid. But I guess that's travelling for you : sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. The rest of our final day in France, and the flight back home, can be summed up the same way - a list of pluses and minuses.

+ FREE airport shuttle!

+ SUPER-FAST Security check. You have no idea how wonderful it is to not have to sweat in a line-up to walk through a metal detector, but rather spend that time perusing the wonders in the Duty-Free shop.

+ Only TWO people in line before us at passport control. Is this the same airport we flew into??

- Finding a rather intoxicating Orange Blossom room spray after smelling ALL the perfumes in the Duty-Free "Exit through the Gift" shop, but then finding not a single bottle left for sale in all three shops in the International Terminal.

+ Finding out that the Fragonard parfumerie makes a Lilac scent, and I think this just may be the one I have been searching for my whole life. Smells like spring.

- Airport coffee, even the gourmet stuff, is just glorified hot beaver water. Scalding HOT hot beaver water. See my comments on Buc-ee's for why that had become our name for really bad coffee.

+ Possibly decoding the airplane boarding system, and being just close enough to the gate to slide into line first when our boarding group is called, especially since we are the 3rd to last row in the plane.

+ Rows of just two chairs!

- Waiting 30 minutes for someone's luggage to be retrieved from cargo, as they had to be removed from the plane due to illness.

- People who insist on pushing back their seats 5 minutes into the flight, and then attempting to force it even further back than is physically possible. Every. five. minutes.

+ Flying out of Marseille over places where we had just camped, and getting to see them from above. 

+ The timing being just right to see the bright pink of the drying salt ponds.

- Air Transat still being at the top of the list for bad in-flight meals. My parmesan penne was bright orange like Kraft Dinner. How is that possible?

+ Air Transat being incredibly generous with their accompanying beverages. They FILLED our cups to the brim with wine. And thankfully, no turbulence!

+ Packing our own delicious snacks to make up for bad airplane food : Trail mix that nourished us all vacation, madeleines to go with our coffee, crunchy apples. 

+ Discovering a new favorite movie from the random selection available through the in-flight entertainment system. If you like food, especially traditional French cuisine at its most popular, watch "La Passion de Dodin Bouffant"(The taste of things), with Juliette Binoche. It has won many awards for directing and cinematography, and was nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes last year. Just don't watch it when you're hungry!

- Pushy people thinking they can plow through an entire plane full of passengers when deboarding. We are all stuck in the same situation, might as well wait your turn like everyone else.

- Lines that go on for miles at the customs hall upon our return to Montreal. 

+ Lines that move much faster than you expect.

+ NO follow-up questions at the border. YAY!

- Airport rush-hour. Heck, any rush-hour. Unavoidable, I guess - this is Montreal.

+ Dinner and the traditional post-travel debrief with family over Saint-Hubert BBQ chicken, and finding out that, even here, there is a burrata dish on the menu!

- All the laundry.

+ Post-trip cat snuggles

What's always important is to make the pluses of each day hold more weight than the minuses, however many or few there may be. Because those are the things, the moments and events, that will create the beautiful memories of each place we travel to. They will be the reason why we look back with fondness, and look forward with excitement. Especially to the next trip, just on the horizon.

Until then - 

And as always, thanks for coming along for the ride.

Blown away in Marseille

One last morning of yogurt and granola in the campervan. The Mistral wind hasn't slowed, but we are still standing, so I count that as a win. The sunrise is more warm and inviting, and the flamingos seem pinker in it. We do a final once-over of the van, making sure everything is clean or packed up. Then we head back over the river delta on the ferry for the last time, and back towards Châteauneuf-les-Martigues.

Check-in at Indie Campers is a breeze, and not only that, they even offer to drop us off at the bus stop, so we don't have to do any off-road trekking with all our luggage! Bonus! Sadly, we don't have the same luck with early check-in at the hotel, so instead we check our bags and head back out, taking the train into Marseille for the day.

Our arrival at the Marseille-Saint-Charles station reveals the city everyone we talked to told us to not bother visiting. The sanitation worker have been on strike since March - before the Olympics, even - and so there are overflowing trash cans and garbage scattered everywhere in the train station. There is an accumulation of detritus in every corner, tucked into every stair, plastic bags swirling in the breeze of the Mistral that is blowing. Everything just feels grimey.

We exit, and the streets are no better - graffiti and shady characters are present in every direction we walk. Things have a look of brokenness and decay. We wonder if the scrappy attitude of the people of France's second largest city - one that had always been a port , open and welcoming to people from all over the world - translates into one of rebellion and meaningless destruction, just to prove their position and worth in the population. A cry of "I'm here", shouted loud, and with a fist pumped in the air. It's certainly not inviting, and so we make our way to a neighbourhood called Le Panier, in the Old town, and where all the tourists are.

Just next to a large set of stairs running down to the port, we get drawn to a small restaurant in a small square next to a small church. Not quite in the heart of the tourist area yet, this place still feels authentic, with its tables set up in the sun all full of people. The ardoise(chalkboard) holds the promise of fried squash blossoms, which we have been seeking out, but also a selection of more late-summer specialties that entice us to sit down. Paired with a glass of a deliciously grapey local red, it is a wonderful interlude to the day. We sit in the quiet square next to the church for a couple of hours, sipping our wine, and mopping up every last bite of our meals with pieces of baguette.

We wander the streets of Le Panier neighbourhood, peeking into shops, picking up the scent of lavender - the aroma of Provence - everywhere we go. We admire the sheer volume of graffiti-borderline-street art here, covering every accessible surface. The Mistral winds push us around, up and down streets and around corners, and eventually, we are seeking out shelter inside the walls of the Chapelle de la Vieille Charité. Its chapel and galeries are now the home of museum exhibits and art installations, which are all free to visit. We peruse one exhibit on the multitude of cultures that have converged on Marseille over the centuries, a collection of painting and posters and pieces from around the world, seemingly chaotic, but tied together with the thin thread that Marseille has always been one of the major crossroads of all the cultures in the history of the world. We disturb the poor pigeons trying, like us, to find warmth and shelter in the sunny corridors surrounding the central chapel. We eventually brave the Mistral again and head down to the port.

Spotting the Basilica over the Marseille Marina	The exit of the Marina, between two forts

We walk all the way around the Marseille Marina until we reach the Abbey of Saint-Victor, one of those places where the newest church was built on the foundations of an old church, who's catacombs were dug out to reveal an even older church built on top of a 1st-century temple? Yes, one of those "lasagna" churches. We descend into the crypt to see how the oldest temple was carved straight out of the rock, gorgeous spiraling columns, ornate alter and everything. Apparently, one of the abbots of this church became Pope - Urban V - in the 1300s. Finally, tired of the relentless pounding of the wind(yes, we can even hear it in the Abbey!), we decide that it's time to surrender and head back to the hotel.

 

Showered, refreshed, and bags repacked for the flight - since we did a pretty quick and dirty job of packing them in the cramped quarters of the campervan - we decide to brave the wind one last time, to have a nice, relaxed dinner at a nearby pizzeria. We seemed to fit in just right, as the clients are a mix of travellers staying in one of the various airport hotels, and locals having a drink at the end of a long and windy day. The woodfire oven pizza is crispy and delicious, and the burrata-tomato-pesto creamy and a great accompaniment to the meal. We are happy to be enjoying a fantastic last meal out before returning home.

Not to say that the bed was flat and uncomfortable in the campervan, but we slept like babies on our king-sized pillowtop mattress with lofty duvet at the hotel. Just sayin'. 

Drive and stops

It's time to leave the peace and quiet of nature, the tranquility of the Pre-Alps, and head back into civilization. It's been a nice reprieve, a welcome break after the crush of people in both Nice and Monaco, and all the cars while driving along both the Grande and Moyenne Corniches...but first we get to enjoy a little more driving along all of those twisty, turny roads that Mario is enjoying so much.

Today's big stops:

Riez - it seems promising, especially when we spy parking lots WITHOUT height restrictions, which has been our nemesis for most of this trip. Why does Southern France hate campervans so much?! 

Riez has a nice, old Provence hill town vibe, combined with a tower and ramparts on one end, and the ruins of a Roman settlement on the other, with a forum, a temple complete with still-standing columns, and TWO baths! It's a nice stop to walk a round for a bit, but we can't find a shop in which to buy milk.

Gréaux-les-Bains - not actually a stop, but definitely a place we take notice of as we drive through it. It seems to be the site of even MORE Roman baths, maybe even an existing mineral spring, as the town is dotted with thermal spas, and even a CASINO! The crowd is very strongly a retired French one...

(View of the colourful fields of Provence as we leave Gréaux-les-Bains behind)

Vinon-sur-Verdon - this place held the promise of a very nice picnic area on the shore of the Verdon river, but also held the disappointment of height-restricted access to said area. Luckily, we are persistent, and found some spots just outside a laboratory on the far end of the park. So we still got our picnic in by the river, we just had to work a little more for it. Have sandwiches, will travel - right to a picnic table where we could watch the ducks foraging for their own meal in the shallows of the river.

(This tower, just past Vinon-sur-Verdon, is a ruin from an old suspension bridge across the river. The new bridge now runs diagonally between the old towers)

Meyrargues - a community that seems strongly Portuguese, given the sheer amount of Portuguese flags present, and the shops we pass. It has a giant E. Leclerc grocery store with an equally large - and accessible - parking lot. It's the perfect place to pick up milk, and stop for a bathroom break. This store has EVERYTHING. It reminds me of the variety at a Walmart back home, but it doesn't seem to have the Fleur de Sel I have been looking to buy more of since we left the Camargue.

Being that this is our last night in the campervan, and the clean-up that it entails, there was much calculating as to where we should spend it. We opt for the Salins-de-Giraud, the salt flats where we spent out first night, because of its proximity to the campervan rental office. We forgo campgrounds nearby, opting to save our money, but also skip out on the free Aire de camping in town. Arriving there, it looks basically like a parking lot, with a dump station to one side, and garbage cans on the other. There is no electricity, and the toilets are closed for the season. If we are going to stay somewhere with no services, it might as well be on the shore of a salt pond, where we can watch the sun set and listen to the squawk of the flamingos. And so we do.

The ponds are now PINK!!	Piles of salt waiting to be processed
Flamingos trying to stay still in the wind	Fighting flamingos!

So on this cold, Mistral-wind blustery night, we sip the last of our Rosé from the co-op in Rousset while watching the flamingos trying to fly against the wind, or even manage to stand still in the lagoons. We eat a fridge-clearing Niçoise salad, made all the better with the addition of the marinated anchovies that travelled with us all the way from Italy. We even managed to finish off the LAST of the CHEESE.

And we spent another quiet evening lounging in the back of the campervan, watching videos I saved on my laptop for the trip, and trying our best to ignore the pounding of the wind that was desperately trying to knock us over.

A Gorge, seen in two ways

Wow, was it ever chilly overnight. Makes us realize how unequipped this campervan really is for longer trips - with a bedding kit that includes a small duvet but large duvet cover, fitted sheet and then two very flat pillows. Also makes me realize how lucky we were to be able to properly equip ourselves when travelling with the same rental company when we road tripped across the Southern United States! Still very early, and still very cold, we pull on more layers, have a glass of juice and drive the van to the Couloir Samson parking lot. This is a trick we learned last year, and now call it the "Bryce Canyon technique" - get up early and just ready enough to function, then drive to the trailhead/parking lot. Here, we "reserve" a spot close to the hiking trail, and can then take as much time as we want to pack our things, get ready, have breakfast and make our sandwiches. There are only 5 other cars here when we arrive, and bonus? There are no parking fees to pay! We park comfortably and prepare for the day.

We start our trek onto the trail that leads into the Gorges du Verdon just around 9 am, when we've determined most French tourists are just starting to make their way out to the hiking trails - after their breakfast, and maybe a second coffee. As we hike into the gorge, I am mindful of the fact that, for every step I take down, I am going to be taking again back out, at the end of the hike, and while being a lot more tired than I am now. I have to be aware of my level of energy, just like I was when we hiked into the Grand Canyon. Curiously, this place is often referred to as the Grand Canyon on France, so my goal is to plod my way into, and then back out, just the same way the mule trains plod their way back up and out of the Grand Canyon. It worked last time!

First, we head down crumbly limestone paths, onto soft pine needle-carpeted stretches of pathway in the shade. The sunrise is long and drawn out, since the sun has to crest the tall edges of the gorge around us, and so the air is still cool and comfortable. We cross the paved round-a-bout at the end of the roadway, and just before the stairway to the river's edge, a small group ahead of us points out a Chamois (a sort of agile goat-antelope) on the opposing bank. 

We follow the stairs down to the rushing water of the river, teal blue and milky from the minerals it contains. This is the Verdon river, which weaves its way through the gorge, and its roughness makes it a great place for white water rafting and canyoning, because why wouldn't you want to throw yourself down a river in a small inflatable boat or wetsuit?! Here, we scramble over large rocks to the water's edge, which is surprisingly warm. I wouldn't want to swim here, though - there are plenty of signs warning of the danger of a sudden rise in the level of the river. This is part of a hydroelectric project, and the reservoirs could be opened at any time and without warning. It's especially dangerous in the summer months, as hikers, hot from the physical exertion, ignore these warnings and go in the water anyways.

Speaking of physical exertion, we are following what is called the Blanc-Martel trail, a famous 16 km hike that follows the river, except it's a one-way trip. Normally, you catch a shuttle from the village to the starting point at the Chalet de la Maline, descend into the gorge and follow the Verdon, then climb back out at Pointe Sublime, just past the Couloir Samson parking. Here, you catch the shuttle back into town. It's a grueling hike, and the shuttle schedule means that your are restricted to doing it in a certain amount of time, which is maybe not enough for me. Honestly, I'm not sure I was feeling up to the challenge, especially with the climb out at the end... We ultimately decided to do a shortened version of the hike, leaving from the less steep descent, and on the end that includes TUNNELS!

Some abandoned hydro-electric project dug several tunnels through the sides of the gorge at the turn of the 1900s, and so part of the trail leads through them, rather than up and over steep cliffs. And these are not little tunnels - the longest of the two we pass through runs for 650 m through the rock, has ventilation holes carved in halfway down, and you have to cross with the help of some light source, it gets so dark in there! How cool is that??

After the tunnels, the trail continues to hug the river, passing through low tree cover, and not offering much in the way of new views, nor challenge, and so Mario deems this to be the best point to turn around, as we will not gain anymore from the hike except distance and overexertion. So back we go, past the tunnels, past the big rocks, up the stairs. The ascent is good, and less strenuous than I think either of us anticipated, so we continue a little further, to Pointe Sublime at the very end of the Blanc-Martel trail. We sit on a rock below the viewing platform, looking out at the climb we just completed, while eating our sandwiches in the sunshine.

View from Pointe Sublime

Trail markers

Back at the van, we repack everything, batten down the hatches and prepare to drive the Route des Crêtes, up and over a large peak that overhangs the gorge. The road winds along the very edge of the cliff, letting us look all the way down the cliff, right to the bottom. There are plenty of pull-off points and belvederes along the 17 km-long route, and so many opportunities to stop and gaze at the views. We also see many other cars parked in the pull-offs and parking lots, people nearby with their picnic lunches spread out on blankets and low tables. What a fantastic place to come for a meal in nature!

About one-third of the loop is one-way, and with good reason: the road narrows significantly, there are a couple of arches to pass through, wicked switchbacks in the road to navigate slowly, and the only thing delineating the edge of the road from the cliff beyond is a low wall of cement blocks...It's very safe, but exciting nonetheless, because really, we all know those blocks are doing nothing to keep the cars from flying off the cliff...

Views from the Route des Crêtes

Spotting a vulture flying above the gorge

We make it back to the village of la Palud-sur-Verdon, where we finally answer the question of how no cars have managed to get stuck trying to pass each other on the narrow road through the center of the town. Traffic lights control the flow, and so our campervan passes through with no problems. We check in at the municipal campsite - again - and take advantage of wonderful hot water showers to relax after a busy day. A short walk back to the village for a celebratory scoop of rum-raisin ice cream, and then we finish the evening in the warmth of the campervan, as the temperatures cool and the wind picks up. We heat up the van by making pasta - borage linguini from Ventimiglia with a tomato-pesto sauce - then lounge in the back, wrapped in blankets and snacking on chocolate. A perfect way to end a wonderful day.

Escaping civilization

Goodbye Italy - I never thought you would be such a big part of this trip along the French Riviera, but I am glad we spent as much time as we did here. Today, we make the not-so-long, but challenging trek back along the coast, and north into the Pre-Alpes region. We get stopped at the border to France, because we are a campervan, and they are worried we have too much space where we could be smuggling immigrants into the country. The check lasts 30 seconds, and they don't even check our passports in the process.

We cruise along the Moyenne Corniche this time, where the views are much better, less obstructed, and there are actual pull-offs to view the vistas below!

After about a million rond-points and interchanges, we manage to escape Nice and find ourselves on the Route Napoleon, weaving our way up into the mountains. We stop every chance we get: 

In front of a defunct waterfall monument dedicated to Napoleon, just above Grasse, for lunch.

Once at a pull-off near the Vallon de Fontsèche, where we catch the most beautiful views of the valley before us, heading all the way down to the coast.

A bit further around the bend, near the picturesque town of Escragnolles, we had cold coffee and madeleines on the side of a cliff.

In the valley of Gratemoine, where the remains of a church beckon, but we are more interested in the bees buzzing around our feet, landing on tiny purple flowers hidden among the dry grasses.

A church on top of a cliff jutting out in the middle of a gorge drew us into Castellane, where we stopped by the river. This is also the Eastern gateway to the Gorges du Verdon area.

And somewhere near the Porte de Saint-Jean, we stopped and stared in awe at the most intense geological formations I think we've ever seen in this wild and crazy world, a wave of rock slamming into another, the physical representation of two tectonic plates slamming together at some point in the history of the world.

After so many twists and turns that Mario feel physically tired as I feel mentally tired(from navigating) from the 4-hour drive, we arrive just outside of the village of La-Palud-Sur-Verdon, and the amazing municipal campground where we will stay for the next couple of nights. Time to commune with nature, after communing with so much population. Tomorrow will be an early morning, so after a short walk into the village for bread and ice cream, we have dinner and call it an early night.