the Ink Runway

In moving to California almost a year ago, I was unpleasantly suprised at the quality and preperation of coffee in the office. Flavia, senseo-like packet-driven single serve machines are ubiquitous and create silty coffee-like facilimies which are coffee as much as mcdonalds is food. As a result I’ve turned to Starbucks to fulfill my coffee requirements and certainly expected to find them, or an equivelant in France

I can now say, with some certaintity, they don’t serve coffee here. My French teacher lied to me; une cafe means espresso and if you order a grande cafe from McD’s you get a Dixie cup double shot. Everything is espresso here (avec beacoup du sucre et laut). Even the rather ordinary coffee maker at Le Maison is wire filter that requires paper filters as the super market only sells espresso ground.

In a way, the shoe is on the other foot and I find myself craving a little watered down American strength coffee. At a gas station I was hopeful. Surely the home base of weary traveller would have a hot pot on; Non! Instead I was shocked to find no less than 4 flavia style vending machines, the same size and shape as cola vending machines. They created a far better brew than our office flavia but still, only small cup brews. Where or where was my mega-gulp 64oz coffee goblet?

Perhaps, while I doth protest too much about my native land, there is still an American heart at my core. I truely enjoy the magnificant culinary wonders this country presents me, wines more extraordinary and cheeses more exquisite than I’ve tasted before, a part of me misses my mediocre mass market staples. I will continue to order une cafes here but I’ll be holding my starbucks gold card when we touch tarmack in heathrow on my return.

We started later today and reached Arles in time for lunch. We had an awesome white wine and terrific lunch (though a minor translation issue meant my mom and I got liver instead of beef). We checked out the church there , St. Trophime d’Arles and it’s connected cloister. The church was dark and damp and seemed in disrepair but has been active for a very long time. It had a reliquary with the bones of many saints.

We also saw the colleseum and theater, or what was left of them. The colleseum was in far worse shape than the one we visited the day before.

on the way back we stopped put at Chateau Neuf de Pape, which is in the wine region Cote du Rhone. The Chateau itself was destroyed by Nazis after the war and was the only home of the Papacy outside of the Vatican (during that short period of 3 popes; the Polish pope ended up dying, and the French pope resigned returning the papacy to Rone where it’s been ever since)

Today we hit a few major sites. The first was top on my wifes list; the Pont du Gard, the best preserved section of Roman aquaduct used to feed Nimes. It was used until around 900AD and all the Tour du France winners since the 1600s until 1989 carved their names on it.

The second area we checked out was Nimes; which amoung other things had a big Notre Dame church, a well preserved Roman temple and the best preserved colleseum which was suprisingly unrestricted. I found what I think was the royal seat and a back stairwell and sat on the topmost ledge to take pictures.

at the end of the day we went to Cora, the target-equivelant here, and I chuckled at the names they gave some items; like using random US city names on their grill including the “Wisconsin” and “Palm Spings”. This evening I finally finished one of the books I’m reading, an oldy but a goody, The Pelican Brief.

Monday we spent the day at Ages-Morte, a walled city that guarded Frances first port to the Med created by Saint Louis (Louis IX) in the 1200s. It had been active until the sea withdrew and left the channels too shallow to navigate ships through; though the area is still a major salt gathering operation.

we ate lunch after walking the city walls and did some shopping. In fact, walking the streets I was amazed how it was still a functioning town; people lived there and parts were vacant or run down. The shops extended just a couple blocks from the main square before being mostly residence.

On our way back we checked out a “cave” and got more wine and in the evening we went to McDs for wifi and cappicinos. I got skypout going and we called some friends and family back home. Before bed, i found a small scorpion in the bathroom. I had no idea France had scorpions…

note: I’ll post more pics of the city later…

I loaded the photos from the phone into live gallery and recreated the panoramas. check them out here: http://cid-215cf41ee437f9f0.photos.live.com/browse.aspx/2010-06-12%20Panorama

Sunday we went to church up the hill. My lack of French kept me from interacting too much. However I decided on a whim to declare “je suis une baguette” to a women who looked quizzically at me then smiled and declared “fresh!”. After church there was a big meal for which the town came out (like 10 more people) and we had awesome sausage, pizza, and an amazing dessert. Coffee (une cafe) means esspresso here; I’ve yet to see a standard cup of Joe fir sale (even McDs doesn’t have just plain coffee). But I suppose food and drink here are rich in a universal way.

In the afternoon a storm blew by (I have some panoramas to post later; I’ve had some issues with generating them on the phone). After a swim my folks came by and my dad and I had a pipe and read. After Anna woke from her nap we went up to the top of the hill to a viewpoint (“le table”)(photo of folks and Anna taken there). After we went a short detour to see the town of ?Lamalousse?. Once back I was car sick as all heck and crashed out early.

Today we went to a market in Uzes. We did lots of shopping; such good quality for cheap (pretending mentally a euro is same as a dollar). The street musicians were awesome. In one case, we watched a clarinet, tuba, guitar and accordian player jam out. In another spot a trumpet blasted with accompaniment of an accordian; no hat or case or CDs to buy, just two musicians who wanted to jam.

We had great lingering lunch there in Uzes. I tried to ask for another glass of ice for my coke, my mom chuckled saying one doesn’t ask for a cup of ice, rather “a little ice for my coke”. The waiter/owner came back out with a large metal cup filled with ice. We laughed; he certainly took me litterally.

After lunch we went to Saint Quentin to check out pottery. It’s a small ville entirely of artists, mostly potters. There shops are also their stores and homes. The one we liked best (and bought from) had a patch through a kiln/workshop/outdoor garage, past the small patio of his house (where his wife or girlfriend quickly drew the shade) and into a small room with his goods. As we entered he emerged from the stairs smiling but quiet, motioning to please, enjoy. As we went about the items his daughter came in to man the checkout desk then he replaced her as we were taking some time. He did a terrific job of being present but invisible (as not to hound his patrons). Unlike the other potters we visited he had smartly made small items for as little as 3, 5, and 8€ which can be the bread and butter for working artists.

On our way back we stopped at a “cave” where one can buy locally made wine. A close analog to “le cave” would be the wine tasting/shops on the vineyards in California. The difference is that there is no “tasting” here (I’m not quite sure how the French would take roving club wagons filled with intoxicated groups of middle aged women acting loudly and seeking to sample, a lot, of their vino). At this nearby shop, I purchased a terrific 2005 Cote du Rhone Cab for 2.70€

did I mention I really like this place?

about some of the pictures: the cactus is glazed pottery. The church is a reform church in the pottery ville and has virtually no signage. The “duchary” (inside castle) is in Uzes.

I’ve wondered ever since seeing Pulp Fiction if the French call a QP with cheese a “Royal with Cheese”. Indeed, while most items are on the menu, Quarter Pounders are not, instead the name given their larger burger is “Royal Deluxe”. Additionally, the McCafe is really a cafe, like a mini-starbucks inside. It has fancy espesso makers and a chocolate machine. The cappacino I ordered was served in a real porcelain cup and saucer and was damn good. Why oh why can’t we have nice things stateside (I know, cause theyde get stolen).

McDs has free wifi as well. They actually want people to sit and linger. They had more outdoor seating than inside (to accomidate the smokers I would guess) and a seperate air conditioned kids play area (“RonaldLand”). The restuarant is clean and they have multiple-language touchscreen ordering terminals; this should be noted as we weren’t in Paris or some tourest hotspot but a shopping area in the small town of Alles.

Note: I realized after taking the photo that Ronalds hair was there but off to side, perhaps they were changing a bulb.

The stones speak to me. I hear shouts and rusty treads of tanks crackling boughs and trudging troughs of mud. I hear the night coos of the forest and sense the fear and friendship found in foxholes dug quickly. The land would seem like home to a soldier like my grandfather raised in Northern Michigan. The terrain and temperature are similar and sometimes looking at the hills I forget I’m not back in the U.P.

I love doors here. I understand now how they captivated the attention of my dad when they first visited. The land is hilly and villages compactly surround their centers; a castle, church or both. They are often built on hills and the doors and gates all hand fashioned hundreds of years ago to match the frame or leans. They vary in height, width, materials and features. Locks and handles range from metal lay latches, to turnkey handles to giant keys. The variety is amazing. And the fact today in 2010 they are still here and functioning (or at least existing) is a testament to quality.

It’s a culture based on perminance. Maybe it’s having a deeply rooted Christian core that focuses on a life after that enables people to build for future generations use. I’m still struggling to grip the essence, but whatever it is, it is the antithesis of my cheap-china-crap plastic/disposible last-for-only-a-few-years experience in the States. Everything back home is plastic and faux materials; all conform to standards; as to enable easy replacement and mass production. Here items are fashioned, once and right and locally. And they are intended to be fixed, painted and repaired. It pervades their lifestyle. For instance, never have I seen such committment to recycling. They fastidiously adhere to strict sorting practices and the old mining area not far from here has transformed into a recycling plant recasting and spoiling plastics.

Their committment to nucleur energy during the nucleaur power dark ages of the US and Russia means their power is cheap, clean and reliable and doesn’t come from fossil fuels. Wind and Nuclear more than meet the needs of the populace. I’ve yet to encounter the stank of eletric plants or industry.

But that leaves a nagging question on my mind; where do people work? This utopian society seems to lack jobs. Everywhere I see opportunities to expand but instead the landscape seems underutilized, clean and green. I like this, but again, the question lingers, what do people do with their time? As I sit in a town of potters I think the answer lies in art but more on that later.