We've moved. I wrote to my sister to say we'd escaped the crowds and heat of the coast and she sighed that it sounded so glamorous. Hmmm....the words "South of France" do tend to conjure up glamour in people's minds. I am quite relieved to say that after nearly 10 years of life on La Cote d'Azur, we've left the glitzy coast of Cannes, of Golf Juan, Antibes and its Cap....the sea, the sun, the yachts, the tourists and the traffic far behind. Today I can just barely glimpse the coast through the olive tree outside my bedroom window.
We can't escape the "glamor" completely, though.
Today two swarthy men from Galarie Moghadam of Monaco came to collect my carpets for their first professional cleaning in 10 years. It's about time. We can smell Antibes (the humidity!) when they're unrolled, so needless to say they've been rolled up since we moved in. The men came in their shining red utility van with their exclusive oriental carpet cleaning logo marked in ornate golden lettering on the side. My son was entranced. They unfolded each carpet right there on the driveway, and in thick Iranian-spiced French commented on the origins of each. I was entranced. I felt I'd returned to Istanbul for a moment where everyone there seems to know carpets like everyone here is born knowing cheese. I felt like offering a cup of coffee and having a seat on my Hereke right there under the Magnolia tree. Receipt handed over, a promise to return my treasures by the end of September and off they sped, with a tiny GPS in hand, to more, I imagine, exclusive clients in Cannes.
It's not all that rosey living far from shops and parks that used to be outside our front door when we lived in la vielle ville. While opting for calm and a garden, we now have to drive everywhere, something I've not had to do (except to go to work) for over 10 years. But that's the trade off. At least when I go grocery shopping I can drive straight up to my front door to unload everything.
Glamor. Is anyone truly glamorous with a preschooler and hairy dog in tow?
Off for a long hot walk near the park in Opio. We were meant to play in the park. I thought I could have both Kyla (dog) and my son (monster who isn't napping regularly at the moment so I thought I would wear him out physically)
No going.
With both out of the car and pulling on me to move, off we went for a walk along a very wide sidewalk and strip of green grass. Both dog and monster enjoyed themselves immensely. At the end of the road is a garden center, so there we "played" amidst the lavender, olive trees, rosemary, and oleander. One (the dog) pulling on her lead and the other (the monster) wheeling along a tiny mickey mouse wheelbarrow repeating "mickey mouse" "mickey mouse" and causing otherwise grumpy looking Dutch and German second home owners to break out into toothy smiles. The monster wheeled along three mosquito repelling geraniums (created apparently by a Dutch botonist) and a basil plant. Women in loose flowing linens, big sunglasses, bright lipstick and too much jewelery for a hot day filled large pallets with enormously expensive looking plants and had their husbands (or drivers?) load them into their audis. Oh so glamorous, I walked back with 4 plants, one dog straining at her lead and one monster pulling me by the hand. Sweating, covered in dirt and smiling from ear to ear like my little monster soon strapped into his car seat for our drive back for lunch in our new home in the hills.
No life is not all glamour and Galarie Moghadam of Monaco.
Why all the mosquito plants? Well, we have a hole in the ground with standing water (part of an old septic system which will need changing by 2012--I just had to get this in as it is truly a glamorous subject to write about) This "puits perdu" (grey water receptical) is breeding its very own mosquitoes.
Today I attacked it.
Armed in long trousers, long shirt, mosquito spray, plastic work gloves and green plastic garden gloves I ripped off all the stones and covered it with some mosquito netting and erected a fence around the entire area which now looks like Stonehenge, or something out of Astrix and Obelix.
So, while the mosquitoes may continue the high life for a while in their own private swimming pool, they won't be able to get out. I find the idea immensely satisfying in a slightly disturbing way. It reminds me of my cockroach killing days in Venezuela...
Ah yes, life in the South of France. Glamorous indeed.
We can't escape the "glamor" completely, though.
Today two swarthy men from Galarie Moghadam of Monaco came to collect my carpets for their first professional cleaning in 10 years. It's about time. We can smell Antibes (the humidity!) when they're unrolled, so needless to say they've been rolled up since we moved in. The men came in their shining red utility van with their exclusive oriental carpet cleaning logo marked in ornate golden lettering on the side. My son was entranced. They unfolded each carpet right there on the driveway, and in thick Iranian-spiced French commented on the origins of each. I was entranced. I felt I'd returned to Istanbul for a moment where everyone there seems to know carpets like everyone here is born knowing cheese. I felt like offering a cup of coffee and having a seat on my Hereke right there under the Magnolia tree. Receipt handed over, a promise to return my treasures by the end of September and off they sped, with a tiny GPS in hand, to more, I imagine, exclusive clients in Cannes.
It's not all that rosey living far from shops and parks that used to be outside our front door when we lived in la vielle ville. While opting for calm and a garden, we now have to drive everywhere, something I've not had to do (except to go to work) for over 10 years. But that's the trade off. At least when I go grocery shopping I can drive straight up to my front door to unload everything.
Glamor. Is anyone truly glamorous with a preschooler and hairy dog in tow?
Off for a long hot walk near the park in Opio. We were meant to play in the park. I thought I could have both Kyla (dog) and my son (monster who isn't napping regularly at the moment so I thought I would wear him out physically)
No going.
With both out of the car and pulling on me to move, off we went for a walk along a very wide sidewalk and strip of green grass. Both dog and monster enjoyed themselves immensely. At the end of the road is a garden center, so there we "played" amidst the lavender, olive trees, rosemary, and oleander. One (the dog) pulling on her lead and the other (the monster) wheeling along a tiny mickey mouse wheelbarrow repeating "mickey mouse" "mickey mouse" and causing otherwise grumpy looking Dutch and German second home owners to break out into toothy smiles. The monster wheeled along three mosquito repelling geraniums (created apparently by a Dutch botonist) and a basil plant. Women in loose flowing linens, big sunglasses, bright lipstick and too much jewelery for a hot day filled large pallets with enormously expensive looking plants and had their husbands (or drivers?) load them into their audis. Oh so glamorous, I walked back with 4 plants, one dog straining at her lead and one monster pulling me by the hand. Sweating, covered in dirt and smiling from ear to ear like my little monster soon strapped into his car seat for our drive back for lunch in our new home in the hills.
No life is not all glamour and Galarie Moghadam of Monaco.
Why all the mosquito plants? Well, we have a hole in the ground with standing water (part of an old septic system which will need changing by 2012--I just had to get this in as it is truly a glamorous subject to write about) This "puits perdu" (grey water receptical) is breeding its very own mosquitoes.
Today I attacked it.
Armed in long trousers, long shirt, mosquito spray, plastic work gloves and green plastic garden gloves I ripped off all the stones and covered it with some mosquito netting and erected a fence around the entire area which now looks like Stonehenge, or something out of Astrix and Obelix.
So, while the mosquitoes may continue the high life for a while in their own private swimming pool, they won't be able to get out. I find the idea immensely satisfying in a slightly disturbing way. It reminds me of my cockroach killing days in Venezuela...
Ah yes, life in the South of France. Glamorous indeed.
Hi Nora
ReplyDeleteI enjoy reading about your daily life with your little monster. I still hope to see him here in Oslo as I especially like small monsters.
You have certaily been around the world, and I loved your comparison betseen Frenchmen and turks:
"I felt I'd returned to Istanbul for a moment where everyone there seems to know carpets like everyone here is born knowing cheese. "
Best wishes from Britt Høyer Grimnes in Norway
Great blog. I love your thoughts and style of writing. Want to come attack the mosquitoes here? Viv
ReplyDelete