Relaxing in the Luberon

A friend of mine, Kathy, her husband and daughter spent almost a year living in Provence--much as we did in Italy. Kelly went to the local French school just as Casey went to the Italian school. Both kids flourished and grew and are different from the people they would have been without their experiences.

Because of their time in the lovely Luberon area of Provence, they now offer personalized tours of the area--The Luberon Experience. It is from Kathy's writings and infatuation that we are here now--not on a tour but I feel that she is here with us as I see the area she loves so much.

We enjoyed Arles even though it was just for two nights. The location of our hotel, Hotel Le Caleandal, was perfect and was truly delightful and picturesque. Our room overlooked the Roman amphitheater while the ancient areana was steps away from the front door. Walking the town was simple and pleasant. After the Nice adventure, it was good to just be able to regroup and relax.

With amazing good fortune, we happened to be there the night of the annual Costume Festival. This is when the women of Arles, young and old, dress in traditional clothing during the day and participate in an hours long parade at night time. Some pushed antique baby buggies with real babies or dolls. Little girls skipped through the parade, holding hands. Different groups represented different elements of society--farmers, bakers, etc. And, not be be left out, there were plenty of men along in costume. The biggest surprise, though, were the horse riding festive groups from the local Spanish cultures. For much of the time we were able to watch directly from the perfectly positioned windows of our room--to which we retreated after a small but bothersome attack of the mosquitos.

Yesterday morning we left Arles and drove to the Luberon and the wonderful B and B Le Mas Perreal owned by virtual friend Kevin from Slow Travel. Everyone I knew who has been here has spoken in glowing terms about the inn, about Kevin and Elizabeth and about the copious and delicious breakfasts they present guests. And, I can report that it is all true.

Our room is delightful--or should I say rooms as Casey has his own room off of ours. The colors are the colors of Provence, the structure is a restored centuries old farmhouse, the pool is inviting and the 17 acres it sits on is covered with vineyards and foliage.

Casey's Room

Today is Casey's birthday--11 years old. At breakfast Kevin had brought from the local bakery a beautiful fruit torte birthday cake and the guests all sang to him. It was so really nice. Casey will tell more about it on his blog but here is a picture until then..

Elizabeth, Casey and Kevin

After breakfast we decided to drive a route Kevin showed us that led through the Colorado red rock formations of the Luberon, small villages and fields of lavender. No tourist spots today. Ken and Casey did some hiking in the spectacular red rock formations (I forgot to put on hiking shoes and my sandals were guaranteed to cause problems.) And then we drove and explored--a good day.

Tomorrow we will explore Kathy's Luberon some more. Our time here will give us only a taste of what there is to see and do. We will take with us lovely visual memories of a lovely part of France and Provence--maybe to return some day.

When the Pick Pocket Strikes

We travel--have done so for years--I would say we're pretty accomplished and sophisticated travelers--kind of know what we are doing--know the do's and don'ts and how to handle ourselves. Or at least that is how we view ourselves.

So, sometimes a little humility creeps in and is good for the soul. A pain? Yes! Frustrating? Totally! A memory not to be forgotten? Hopefully so that it is not repeated. One only need to be humbled once.

We arrived in Nice 19 hours after buckling ourselves into the first leg of our flight--San Diego to San Francisco. It was 2:15 pm. It was so good to see our friends waving and waiting for us as we schlepped through what passes for customs in Nice. We hugged and smiled and talked and were so happy to be together again.

They dropped us at our hotel along the promenade. We could shower, rest and relax for a few hours before dinner and conversation at their lovely, all white apartment with the stylish Italian kitchen we remembered from our last visit. We decided that rather than Ben--Casey calls him Uncle Benny-- picking us up with his car, it would be an adventure to ride the new tram.

At 5 pm Ben was back and we were ready to begin the evening. It was hot, humid, sticky and the ocean was beautiful with parasails coloring the skies.

The tram was crowded-well, packed with bodies pressed tightly into each other as more and more people clamored aboard, anxious to get home from the day's work. I held my purse tightly to my chest, not needing to use hands to hang on as there was no where to fall. Ken held tightly to Casey who was scared and overwhelmed. We knew that this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Fortunately we only had 3 stops to go before we were able to fall out the tram door, gasping for breaths of fresh air. A shower would have been nice. Maybe even a change of clothes.

Then!--I hear "I think my wallet is gone." And, Ken was right. It had been secreted deep within a pocket which was on the side, a little bit above the knee and seemingly fastened securely with velcro. But, the wallet was no longer there. No matter how many times he patted, searched or looked, it was definitely gone.

So began the marathon of repairing the damage. He had lost 3 credit cards, 2 ATM cards, his driver license and other things such as insurance cards, etc. Fortunately, not his passport.

He and Ben went to the police and reported the theft in the off chance that the wallet was thrown away with just the money taken. Of course, that has not been the case but we did learn the real advantage of making the report. The police had a form which Ken completed indicating the theft of his license; thus, he can drive without fear while we have 7 weeks in Europe.

Being with friends, at their house was a godsend in dealing with everything. We were able to use their phone which has unlimited international calling. Plus, having SKYPE is truly an advantage when contacting the United States from here. Yesterday when we arrived in Arles, I had reason to use SKYPE to follow up on a couple concerns we have.

What we learned from this--besides the need for constant vigilance:

1. Know all your credit card numbers and where to call.
   
2. It is good to have credit cards with different numbers. With AmEx, my number was different so it was still usable. The other two cards we had used the same number, so my cards were unusable.
   
3. Without a valid credit card, you can not pick up your car rental. If I had not had AmEx, we would have had a major problem.
   
4. It is important to have individual ATM cards with unique numbers. That is what we have so only his cards were canceled. Big time problem if we had no ATM card.
   
5. Know that the card companies will overnight express new cards to you. The efficiency in this was quite remarkable. The new cards were waiting for us when we arrived at our hotel in Arles yesterday. As at home, you need to call to activate them. Having SKYPE installed and internet access makes this pretty painless and cheaply done.
   
6. Always take the time to get an International Driver Permit before leaving the US. It has your picture, your US license number, etc. In the event of losing your license, the IDP is priceless--that along with the affidavit from the police will take you through. We had no problem picking up our rental car with the IDP.
   
7. Having a computer with needed information available saved monumental amounts of frustration.
   
8. Having a SKYPE account which allows direct dial at virtually no cost and clear connections allowed us to overcome what would have been much greater hair-pulling. We have just about every concern and contingency covered now--due to internet access and the ability to talk with people--sometimes at length, other times on long holds.
   
9. Since an account can not be accessed once a card is reported stolen, it is important t0 know or have a record of recurring charges. Contacting those companies to provide new card numbers is important.
   
10. Take deep breathes and tell yourself that this is not as serious as it sounds. Things will get solved, the trip will continue and good memories will follow.

Additional thoughts:
Credit cards that cover your insurance, only do so if that card is used for all charges related to that rental. We had charged the rental to a visa card but needed to use the AmEx card as a deposit against damage. That would have been an horrendous problem if we were to be in an accident. As soon as we had our replacement VISA card, we went to the local car rental office and had the contract rewritten so that we are covered.

I hope this little primer will come in handy for someone else as trips are planned and the unexpected occurs. Of course all of these things are what you would need do at home; however, being far from home, things become exponentially more difficult. This happened Tuesday night. By Thursday night it was basically over and now we are good to go. So don't panic, just cope and all will be well.

One more thought: As you read, I hope that there were some AHA moments about new things to think about as you prepare your journeys.

And........next time--I promise--a little about Provence.

This is our hotel here in Arles--don't you love the look? The two tall windows are our room from which I am now writing.

2 More Sleeps

In the common parlance of Slow Talk, a helpful site when planning trips to Europe and elsewhere, you mark off time to travel by counting the "sleeps"--nights before departure. We now have 2--tonight and tomorrow. Monday morning we are off and the daily grind is behind us for a few weeks. I have decided that part of my love for travel--besides the enrichment and cultural opportunities--is the total escapism it offers. Today this is less so than when we began our journeys--before the unavoidable prevalence of TV, the internet and mass travel, where new news is constant. But, it is still quite possible to lose oneself in anonymity and separate from home.

Anyway, we are ready. The suitcases are full and zipped--well, almost. We bring with us an odd assortment of things. Having lived in Italy for a year and having friends whom we know well, we bring gifts that are rather out of the ordinary. This year it is 10 lbs of pancake flour for Casey's friend Tommaso who asks for this each year. Then there are special kitchen sponge type things for Nicoletta because I know she likes them and can't get them in Italy. She will be surprised (unless she reads this) as she doesn't know that I know. Following these unique gift items are a couple strainers from Bed, Bath and Beyond for sink drains, kids things for Camilla, Sophia, Filippo and Tommy and other oddities for Alessandro, Signora Franca, Sara and Valentina.

So we end with one carry on with nothing but electronics and important papers. One carry on with clothes for each of us in the event of waylaid checked luggage. (I am pretty well convinced that our time is about due as we have had phonemonal luck with luggage over the years--even when we traveled with 9 huge duffles the year we moved.) And then my rather large carry on purse with a myriad of essentials.

We are checking 2 suitcases plus the duffel of gifts. This is not bad since there are 3 of us for 7 weeks. And, I know, that we have way more than we need. Do I really need 7 pairs of shoes? Of course! Fortunately, I buried them so Ken won't know until we get there.

When we return we will still have this assortment of valises as the replacement pieces for my dishes, which I had delivered to our home-away-from-home in Greve, will fill the emptied out spaces. This beats paying shipping costs to the US.

So we are off. Ten days in a limited area of Provence. Friends are picking us up in Nice. We'll have a couple days with them before heading off to Arles and surroundings. On the 9th we head to Italy with the first two nights in Bologna. There we will meet a friend from Hawaii for dinner. And... then our annual pilgrimage to our most favorite of favorite places, Sant' Antonio in Montepulciano before heading to the final 4 weeks in "our" apartment in Greve in Chianti.

This year we are facing the emerging adolescent in Casey as he is having mixed emotions about leaving for so long--or at all. This child who has been nurtured on travel and has a wanderer's spirit is turning out to be a normal kid. The consolation is that as soon as he hits foreign soil, especially that of his loved Italy, he will be just fine. He belongs to two worlds and each has a powerful hold on him. This is good.

Of Men and Iron--Sequel

If this leaves you puzzled, just read the previous post and all will be made clear.

Enjoy!

Of Men and Irons

Sometimes all that can be done is laugh.

First, let it be known, I do not iron or do windows. Ironing ceased our first week of marriage when my new husband discovered I could not iron his shirts and began taking them to the laundry. Since then I have raised 4 kids without ironing. Well, truthfully, if something looked too bad, I have been known to pull the board out.

There was the day when the board was drug out of the closet and the iron was steaming, ready to get rid of pesky creases. Suddenly Ken came in the room shepherding four bewildered kids, having disrupted whatever they were up to at the moment. Lining them up in front of me, he instructed them with great pomposity, "Children, you need to watch this. You may never see it again." He laughed harder than I as I fought the impulse to let the iron fly--somewhere.

As far as windows go, I always figured that if I worked outside the home--which I did--part of my income was to be used to make my at-home life easier. This reasoning was also applied to whom would clean the house. I have viewed my responsibility as being to help sustain the employment level. That thought occurred to me the day I stepped out of the shower, faced the toilet and burst into tears thinking of how many years of toilet cleaning lay ahead. It was an overwhelming growth moment in my life--one of the milestones mentioned in my last post.

This brings me to this week's story. Casey is going to Vacation Bible School next week at a friend's church--his friend's father is the pastor there.

Last week we received a very complete package in preparation for the week--which starts Monday. The package included a CD of the songs they will sing, a handout explaining what mission project the children would focus on and offering envelopes. This is good as Casey saves "Jesus" money from any money he receives so that he can give from his own reserves.

Included in this package was a rather large latex decal to be ironed on the front of a yellow shirt which we were to buy--each grade level wears a different color. The decal came with detailed instructions as to how to iron it on the shirt.

Since I do not iron, Ken took on this detail. He carefully measured to make sure the decal would be straight on the shirt from side to side and top to bottom (his attention to minute detail drives me to distraction.) And then he started. The first sigh of displeasure I heard (from the other room) was when the decal slipped and destroyed his measuring. But he persevered and kept on going.

A few seconds later either the iron or the husband exploded. As I walked in the room, all I could see was the iron sporting a totally white, rather gooey bottom and an irate man whom sometimes I know. It seems that the wrong side of the decal was ironed. Definitely, it was not the time to laugh or even stick around. The last I knew the decal had sprouted wings and flew across the room.

I called my friend, the pastor's wife, and explained to the answer machine what had occurred and did she have another decal. Today when we came home from the fair, there was a new decal hanging on the door.

Now, I have no intention of taking over ironing this thing, but, do feel that marriage involves shared responsibility. So, I cleaned the bottom of the iron--figuring that would be too maddening for him to do.

Thank goodness for "GOOP"--you know that miracle substance that takes all goop off anything--store stickers on picture frames, cellophane which has burned on top of the toaster oven and irons that have sprouted goo.

Tomorrow, which unfortunately is Father's Day given this circumstance, the decal will be attached and Casey will not be humiliated at Bible School by being the only one with a bare yellow shirt. No wonder he loves his Papa.


Post-Script: I'll try to give an update with a visual of the completed shirt--decal and all.

Milestones

Life is made of certain, definitive, universal--well, universal in many cultures-- milestones. Most of us have passed through these and moved on and yet, even then, continue to mark them in new ways from time to time.

Many of my readers know that we raised 4 kids and shooed them out of the nest decades ago. We loved each of them but were not unhappy empty nesters--we had lifes to live and dreams to reach. For me some of these were professional--a chance to realize skills that hadn't been tested and yet were bubbling away inside. And then there was the need to explore cultures and countries that had only been known inside the pages of National Geographic and dreams. There was a need for freedom.

Now we have returned to celebrating milestones that were once ours, then our childrens and now Casey's. Because years seperate us from Casey, there are times when we need to remind ourselves that these are precious years for him and our job is to validate them, not minimize them--knowing, in our adult vantage point, that there are much bigger things to come. For Casey, these days are as big as they get, forming memories that will travel life with him.

So...yesterday was one of these times. Casey was promoted (he takes great pains to tell us NOT graduated--that happens at the end of high school!) from elementary school. Today he is a middle schooler--a 6th grader. He is ready to adopt a new maturity, begin the separation process. He is scared and, I must admit, so am I. He is afraid of independence. I am afraid of losing the boy who hugs in public and holds hands walking down the street.

Tomorrow he takes his first beach trip with the middle school department at church. They leave at 3 and won't be back until 9. It'll be a whole new type of interaction for him--a first step into adolescent relationships and independence. I have encouraged him in this but wonder where it leads and how fast it will take.

My biggest hope is that he takes us with him on this ride--that rather than growing apart new ways of sharing and bonding accompany us into the coming school years and finally into the magic transition called adulthood. In my depths, I do believe that is our future.

No Monoply on Patriotism

More information on the Born Again American Organization

Little League and Me---Sequel

Meet the eleven members of the Orioles Minor Team of the Allied Gardens Little League.

Well, the party filled the day today and, in all honesty, I must admit it was a fun time. The weather cooperated--not hot but warm enough to be comfortable. The kids had a load of fun. The new basketball hoop was a hit and the newly completed "fort" provided the most perfect place for the team to dine in splendor.


Ken and Casey finished this hideaway yesterday. Casey's version of the tree house which every 10 year old boy dreams of having.

Summer childhood in So. Cal

I am so glad we were able to once again provide the "party" house--yes, that is what we have been over the years--the party house for the younger crowd. Of course, if things continue to mirror the past, we will be the party house for high schoolers in a few more year--always supervised with visible "old folks" hanging around. A place where kids can come for fun and parents will feel free of worry. It seems we have many years ahead of us.

Did I mention? I have a pact with God. He gave us Casey in our retirement and so His job is to keep us healthy and spry long enough to complete the job. I believe that's many more years.

Little League and Me--True Confession

We had four kids, well, we still have four children plus one now. Thirty some years ago we were in Little League hell--a marathon of practices, games, snack stand duty, parties, tournaments of champions and All-Stars. One thing I never did was agree to assume the onerous title of "team mom," but somehow there were a myriad of other duties.

More than one year we had kids on four different teams in three different leagues, totaling a minimum of 12 practices and games a week. I can not count the number of snack stand duties I filled. We were often the team party house for barbecues and swim festivities and end-of-season team ceremonies. You know, the ones where the coaches all get plaques and the kids get trophies. Between the four kids we could have built a special room to display all the trophies. If you played, you were rewarded. Of course, in time gaining a trophy was rather meaningless.

During all of this time I was a "working out side of the home" mom. Juggling hours and minutes became a matter of skill and determination. We speak now as if the concept of "multi-tasking" is new and somehow a discovery of the younger generation. Not so--women have multi-tasked since the beginning of time. Perhaps it's considered a new state of being because men have finally discovered it.

Anyway, my confession--I kept my fingers crossed at the end of every season, hoping against hope, that my kids' teams would not go too far in the Tournament of Champions and that none of the kids (I can't say boys as our daughter played, too) would make All-Stars. As I cheered and supported and told them how great they were, in my heart I was hoping for failure. And I didn't even feel guilty. I wanted a life where we could camp, vacation, have some family time.

So--it was with no nostalgia when the day came that it was all behind us. I left the ball fields with no regret and no turning back. That part of parenthood was over--or so I thought.

This Sunday we are hosting the Little League team end of the season, passing out trophies, swim, barbecue party. There will be 21 kids (brothers and sisters invited) and 22 adults. Yesterday we invested in a pool basketball set and new pool toys. Tomorrow we hit Costco to get hotdogs, hamburgers and buns. How did we ever get to this place we left so many years ago?

The answer, of course, is Casey who has begun his collection of trophies--baseball, football, soccer and basketball. He's only 10 and has two shelves full. Sadly, they carry no meaning.

His team did not go very far in the Tournament and so that is over for us for this year. I'm pretty sure he would have made the All-Star team except we had completed the form saying he would not be available. Summer is our time and Italy and France await.

So--de jévù. I'm glad the season's over and life can begin again. Of course, Casey is never to know this as he believes that our days at the field are treasured...and...in a way they are.

Look at that form!!

Life Threw a Curve

Fortunately not a serious one in terms of life upsets and problems--more of a frustrating annoyance one would say.

I think somewhere back in time I mentioned that we were going to Morocco for ten days before heading into Italy for several weeks--of course we end up there as Casey needs to see his friends and we need to, too.

The trip to Morocco has been planned for months and eagerly anticipated as friends of ours who live in Nice, the man is from Morocco, were going to show us the country through the eyes of a native. His family still lives there and we would have visited them in their homes. And...Casey eagerly told everyone that he was going to ride a camel and even practiced making camel noises.

So it was a great disappointment when two days ago we received an e-mail from our friends saying that circumstances made it necessary to change their plans. And, because they were going to make all the arrangements including visits with their family, we had not made any of our normal intensive preparations.

Now we needed to make plans in a hurry as we leave a month from yesterday. We have 11 days to play with before we are scheduled for our yearly visit to Sant Antonio in Montepulciano and then on to our "home away from home" in Greve in Chianti.

In a matter of hours we played around with several scenarios--ferrying to Corsica, flying to Puglia, the Amalfi Coast, Ireland and Provence. Fairly quickly we narrowed our options to Corsica and Provence. Both were intriguing and answered two of the quirks we were dealing with--too much luggage for small airlines and not wanting to spend a lot of time traveling.

After quick questions on the France forum of the Slow Travel website, several people shared good information on both Corsica and Provence. Eventually, within hours of coming to grips with this dilemma, we charted our course and began making plans for Provence. Locating desireable places to stay that are not already booked--not an easy challenge. Within a few hours, I had possibilities identified and began the e-mailing.

Now we have booked at a highly recommended B and B which miraculously had 3 nights available and it was in the room for three people Le Mas Perréal. I have known of this place for several years and always thought...Someday. I felt that I had hit the jackpot when Kevin, the owner, e-mailed me back right away with the good news. My Someday had unexpectedly arrived.

This morning I had more good news from La Bastide du Paradou in Moustiers. They had availability for the next three nights. From there we will head back to Nice and into Italy. La Bastide looks to be very lovely and has excellent reviews. Kevin and other friends say the village is charming and picturesque--just what I like.

There is still a little problem remaining--the two days between Nice and before Kevin's. I tried several places that were recommended but to no avail--all booked. So I'm trying for Le Calendal in Arles which seems a really good spot for us. Hopefully, by tomorrow they will say "oui" and we will be set.

Amazing that this has been able to be completed so quickly. I wonder if it is because tourism is down in this disastrous world economic climate. I am sure that is so.

The lesson learned is that plans change and rather than let panic set in--shake it off and move on. What a great way to approach much of life!

And then finally, we'll stop in Bologna for the night on the way to Tuscany and have a wonderfully fantastic meal in one of the world's culinary capitols. Yeah!