fev 9-10: Visits to the coast

In Valbonne I'm onl 6km from the Mediterranean as the crow flies, but it doesn't feel that close. With twisty roads, forest and lots of other villages in between, it takes at least 45 minutes to get there by bus. The bus system is quite good, and I took one Saturday morning (after a trail run and breakfast) to Antibes. Like other towns on the Cote d'Azur, it has attracted artists like Picasso, Graham Greene and the French poet Jacques Prevert, plus many wealthy Americans who built homes here throughout the early 20th century. It's also built on the site of an ancient Greek city, Antipolis, and has some fantastic ramparts bordering the Mediterranean that are from the 17th century.


I had a half day of wandering around the old city and along the beach-side. The market here was great -- in a covered hall without sides, featuring quite a few farmers, plus olive/tapenade vendors, meats, cheese, olive oil soaps, and more. I got some no-spray Brussel sprouts, in-shell hazelnuts (such a pain to open!), and some not so great cookies. But I also came across a great little fair called Pain, Amour et Chocolat, essentially a small market of chocolate, baked goods and other specialty foods producers from near Antibes but also many from nearby Italy, especially Turin. One sample of chcolate liquor, a slice of zucchini/tomato tart, and some fresh pasta later, I wandered some more. (That's the Antibes bus station below.)


Sunday I went down to Cannes with Lesley to do their shopping at the bustling Marche Forville. We got flowers for the house and her mother-in-law, tons of cheeses and some sliced meat, and then met up with Robert, her husband, and their American friend who'd just flown in, Roger. We then piled on produce and picked up lobsters which they later had for lunch. I stayed in town and walked a bit, though many shops and things were closed because it was Sunday. Cannes is indeed a place to see and be seen. Lots of people sitting outside at cafes just watching things go by. The main film festival building is a hideous bunker, and many of the apartment buildings along the coast are ugly 1960s-era things in pastels. But the sea is gorgeous with the small mountains of the Massif d'Esterel to the west. I sat on the beach (actually in a lounge chair) for lunch, a total treat.

That night it was brasiola for dinner, which in this context was a thinly-sliced cured beef that we plated up with olive oil, pepper, and mango. It was super yummy. (FYI, brasiola apparently can also be a stuffed roll-up of beef that you braise.)