When left to our own devices…

We were full of excitement watching my parents leave. We were excited for them – for their overnight in a luxurious paradise where they actually could relax entirely. We were also excited to be kids: sloppy, lazy and unaccountable.



Waving from the porch, we watched them drive off, kicking up dry dust from the sandy driveway as the sped away. We cranked the music up a couple notches, put some heavier beats on, and opened a bottle of wine. But we don’t do idle well. So we ventured off to enrich our minds by learning the fascinating history of the area at the Musée du Citadel which – like the lighthouse and so many other educational, state-owned museums in the area – was closed for work. Apparently we didn’t see the large sign at the entrance announcing this fact (yes, it was even written in English) so we paid our tariff and walked the grounds anyways, disappointed and angry that we couldn’t enter the fort. We play the part of ignorant Americans well.



I realized that specifically when the three of us stumbled upon an ancient well. We all were leaning far into it, wondering aloud how deep it might actually be. Most people would probably have picked up one of the tiny pebbles on the ground beside the well and tossed it in, counting to see how long it took to reach the water below. Not us. We did it the American way. We all took turns spitting, counting the seconds until our bile reached the water below…



Despite our disappointment (due solely to our ignorance), we saw many interesting things and enjoyed ourselves a great deal. One of the most interesting sights was a beautiful peacock, perched high above the fort in one of the dried out pine trees. And the view.




Lots of stairs to get there, but the view from the top was worth it.

Lunch at Senequiers was tasty before our departure to the Géant Casino to run some errands. It’s been hot. It was really hot. So we spent an extra long time picking out wines and shopping in the air-conditioned store rather than fry in the Peugeot. We felt like alcoholics checking out with 15 bottles of wine, but we felt worse when we decided to stop at every vineyard along the route home to sample the booze at each one. Yummy…




We swam for a bit at the public beach, but we were way to full of energy. Once we got home we still wanted to play, so we started a game of boulle. Sunset was rapidly approaching though, so we packed a bottle of wine and plastic cups and made our way through the obstacle course of brush and boars to watch the sky change colors from the rock.




All day we looked forward to pizza from Le Will. Unfortunately when we arrived to do take out (we looked far too terrible to eat inside), we discovered that it was closed on Mondays. (Everything seemed to be closed yesterday.) So instead we came home and while Alex set the table and opened the wine, Becca and I cooked up some crazy concoction of whatever food we could find – salad with leftover chicken, artichoke hearts, yesterday’s goat cheese, avocado and homemade oil & vinegar dressing to accompany pasta with bottled sauce and chunks of saucisson and artichokes and olives. Needless to say, we managed just fine living alone.

This morning we woke up to go to the market. We shopped a lot, and my dear brother was kind enough to buy me a beautiful silk scarf that I’ve been eyeing for weeks. Aawww, he’s so sweet.



We also walked through the fish market, which is always interesting – and smelly. We bought desserts from Senequiers and lunch from the fresh food stand in the market. We cracked open another bottle of wine and thought that life just can’t be better than this…

Of course I also sadly watched the last of my euros pass into the hands of a Frenchman and realized I needed to tap into my savings account. This is it. No more play. I need a job. For real this time.

For this reason I dropped Becca and Alex off to snorkel and sunbathe at L’Escalet, leaving me to finish some errands before heading into St. Tropez in a few to beg for a job at one of the portside bars. Plus, it’s way too hot for the beach. It’s so hot all the water’s dried up. I think that may really be a problem… I’ll need to go speak with the caretakers…

On the way back from dropping the kids of at the beach, I made a quick stop at Ramatuelle for, as usual, the post office. You can imagine both my shock and the shock of the postman when – after all my billions of disappointing visits – my package had actually arrived! Of course, he wouldn’t give me the package without me first giving him a kiss… Ah, whatever – he’s a dirty, old Frenchman and I probably made his day. Hahaha

Ok ok… time to go to St. Tropez…