I’m going to start this with a brief introduction:
It’s Tuesday night. The air is cool, but warmer that it has been; the stars twinkling in the sky despite the light show below. Tony and I are walking along the port, admiring the boats. “These are beautiful,” I say, admiring the classic yachts, their magnificent sails tucked away for the evening. He laughed, continuing to explain intricate details about each one. He knows everything about boats, can recognize each one by name from far away whereas I am completely ignorant and they all look the same to me.
We stop in front of the Sube. I look to the packed balcony, not ready to go up. “This is Mariette,” Tony says, bringing my attention to the big blue boat he’s staring at in obvious amazement. “One of the Google guys owns her – Perkins is the name. She was built in 1915, New England, redone and all that. An amazing ship, Catherine.” And then we walked on, he taught me about another boat, and the name and story he just told me slipped out of my head just as easily as it had slipped in. It meant nothing to me. (But it amazed me how brilliant he was in the way of boats.)
I should have made the connection Wednesday while working as the receptionist in the evening, handing keys back and forth to the Americans in the room under the name of PERKINS. Silly me.
But that wouldn’t be the end of it.
It was my last day at work and a crazy one at that. We served free breakfast for all the crew of La Voile; the tiny bar and terrace were packed with people, a constant hum of numerous languages. Even better than working hard (which I do love to do) was that I actually had help today – and not just any help, but my cute Montreal boy who has a North American work ethic… in that he actually works. (Did I mention I have a date tomorrow night, too?) Considering how many people were there, the morning meal went rather smoothly.
At breakfast, I made a point to take good care of my favorite Sube guests, a group of Americans (you gotta love your countrymen!), despite the crowd.
“Have you seen this from the water yet?” one asked me – the one from Boston.
“No,” and I sighed, hearing the same question so many have asked me all week. “Everyone told me I ought to, but I don’t have a boat.”
He smiled. “We do.”
I looked around at these people who I worked hard for all week. “We’ll see what we can do. Will you be around this afternoon?”
I said yes, and continued to chat in between serving others. We chatted about the places they’re from; San Francisco, Newport, Boston. We chatted about their boats. “This one right out front, the guy we work for owns that one too,” they said to me. “It’s beautiful, has a blue hull, great boat. Mariette’s the name.”
Then something clicked.
“Wait a second,” and I thought long and hard where I’d heard all this information before. “It was built in New England, kind of famous or something?”
They laughed at me. I apologized for my boating ignorance. “Yea, they had a History Channel special on her. But we work for his other boat – a smaller one, an classic sailing boat built in 1910.”
I gave them my number, but didn’t think it’d actually work out. Finished breakfast and left.
Everyone at the Sube (including the guests, all of whom have become good acquaintances this week as I served them in the morning as a waitress, afternoon as a bartender, and in the evening as the receptionist) is wonderful; very sweet, kind, and fun. It was a bit sad to say goodbye, but it just doesn’t pay enough for me to be the only one who works amongst a bunch of lazy Algerian women. Marie, who has always been a tough boss but wonderful woman, gave me a hug and bisous and – most importantly – a big fat pay check. “Please, if you come back again, you can work legally for three months,” and she looked me in the eye, “You can start in April.” That’s great to know.
I strolled down those lovely marble stairs for the last time and promptly headed to the port where La Voile tent is set up. I want a tee shirt that fits as much as I do appreciate the overly large one Marie saved for me. There were none left, but on the way I met my dear friend Tony and we chatted. It was great to see him. Walking back to the Sube, where I was to meet my grandparents’ friends the Von Drehle’s, I ran into my other good friend Marlon. It was great, just to walk the streets and see people I know and care about.
Lunch was wonderful, too. The Von Drehle’s are lovely people, kind and generous, sweet and interesting. We chatted for ours with our toes nearly touching the wet sand, watching the boats pass by. I am thrilled to have been introduced to such kind people. As Jilly pointed out to me, “You’ve met a lot of terrific people this summer.” Certainly – I thought of the Combas, the people at Ptit Club, my good friends. I thought of all the business cards I collected from people in San Francisco and Paris – people who asked me to look them up for networking or if I just wanted a drink. I thought of my family. And I looked at the two of them. “You’re right,” I responded, smiling. “I have met a lot of terrific people.”
The also mentioned that Trans Atlantic flights permit more luggage weight, alleviating some of my travel stress. No way I was going to be able to keep even on of my bags under the domestic limit of 20 kilos!
They dropped me off at the Place des Lices and I paused to watch the old French men play boules. It’s great to see. One man sat on the bench beside his dog (yes, the dog was on the bench too), both completely absorbed by the intense competition playing out in front of them. I laughed and walked on.
I finished my errands. I got my check from the insurance company – all the people there teased me and said a genuine goodbye. I actually think they might miss me. It was sweet. I bought Tequila a name tag with my numbers on it as the vet recommended. I went to the bank to deposit my moula. I shopped around for a bit of art to take home, but found none. And then I returned to my car for the best news of the day – no ticket! I had parked on the street without paying a cent because the 11€ ticket is cheaper than parking in the port all day. But I got away with it for free! Yea!
Driving home, I admired the collars of this area, the lighthouse I can see from so far away – my beacon of hope, my marker of home. It’s beautiful here. The weather has been odd all week long; rainy and cold in the morning but nearly beach weather by afternoon. Except for tomorrow. Tomorrow it’s going to be beautiful.
My phone rang; a number I didn’t recognize.
“ ‘Allo?”
“Catherine?” A voice I hardly recognized. “It’s Fred from the Sube. Well, from Boston, I mean.”
“Oh hi!”
“Well I was wondering if you felt like going sailing tomorrow with us. Because you can.”
Twist my arm.
I can’t even explain my excitement. I get to see the final race of La Voile de St. Tropez, the famous Nioulargue, from a 1910 classic sailing boat out in the harbor. Fate loves me.
Although I fear saying that, for maybe fate will hear me and give me less next time. ; ) (Allusion to the Alchemist, guys!)
I’m gonna take my big fuzzy dog to the beach now for a run around… I think I might need it more than she does.
BISOUS!!!
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