Boulle!

I suppose I shouldn’t be so amazed that a game has such an influence on a culture. Look at soccer in England, or baseball in the States. No one grows up without exposure to these sports. Here, life revolves around boulle – known as botchie ball back home. In the Place de Lise, the center of St. Tropez, there will always be dirty old men tossing giant metal balls around, vying desperately to have their own sink near the cochon (the tiny ball). Ramatuelle, and every other town, has an entire park dedicated to this seemingly silly game.



It is mindless when you play like me, toss it in the right direction and cross your fingers. It is strategic and challenging, however, when you play like my brother and father, taking into consideration the shape of the turf and the level of softness or hardness the sand provides, carefully examining the shapes and contours of the earth before each throw. I’ve found my way wins just as much as theirs.



Here at Chez Michel, boulle is a different game. The ground is overwhelmingly unpredictable and competition fierce. But either way, it’s a lot of fun.

I’m going to miss my family… Less than two more days to enjoy them…