Westward Bound...

Sitting in the Ottawa Airport en route to Regina for a visit with the family. After 2 days of classic late-summer thunderstorms, I am relieved to see clear skies and the flight showing as on-time. I haven't been to Saskatchewan in summer for a couple of years, so am looking forward to some dry, warm weather. Hard to say if there will be any news to add here...

Day 14? Geneva, 17 July

Regrettably, vacation draws to a close. A 4 or 5 hour drive via back roads to Geneva, fighting the GPS's desire to drop us on the nearest autoroute at every opportunity. We passed through some beautiful country. There's a remarkable change as one moves north from Province/Drome. A lot less money has been pumped into the villages. It almost seems like a regression in time. But I'm sure that's more impression than reality. Helen flies home tomorrow, and I will stay in Europe 1 more week - half in Geneva, half in Amsterdam before flying home. 2 weeks vacation is certainly not enough.

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAY 12 (15 JULY 2010)

… and there were fireworks. We had a rare opportunity to see them from about 10 km away and at a lower altitude. The disconnect between sound and light was not extreme, but it created an unusual sensation. Of course, fireworks are not as impressive that way as from up close, but still there is a certain “ooooh” factor, emphasized by the kids/counselors from the French immersion summer school down the road who were leaning over our wall and exclaiming at the appropriate moments. Fun. Today, the 2nd last in our rental, was too functional. A trip to the Nyons market to get a year’s supply of olive oil soap turned into an encounter with away too many people, a lengthy treck from parking, followed by a wretched lunch on a very very hot day. That all dissipated on returning home, via dropping in on a friendly and relatively new winery “La Passion d’une Femme” where they make some very nice Côtes de Tricastan. That worked very well with grilled lamb chops and local sausage for dinner with a friend. Tomorrow, it’s sleeping in the last time and trying to get ready for the drive back to Geneva. All’s well that ends, as asserted by a Japanese t-shirt I once had.

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAYS 10, 11 (14 JULY 2010)

14 July – La Fête Nationale. I’d forgotten, but the villagers certainly didn’t. I suspect there has been a several-day-long warm up down the way from our house, where there have been small parties nightly since Saturday. I attributed Saturday’s event to the opening of an éxpo in a small local gallery (people from Paris were expected, but never showed), but now I wonder. By the night of the 13th, the entire village was showing up by 7:30. The talk and laughter got louder as the crowd swelled, but oddly no one broke out a loud stereo. By about 11:30 songs were sung – alternating men and women, it seemed. All sounded vaguely nationalistic as we headed off to bed. I expected some serious celebrating when the Fête itself arrived.

And we were reminded yesterday of the holiday by signs in the Dieulefit Super-U advising that, exceptionally, they would only be open in the morning. Further investigation turned up that the local fruitier and butcher would also close at noon on the 14th. Wednesday morning, fearing a possible shortage of rosé, we walked down the hill to pick some up. Parked cars lined the highway – at least double the number there had been on market day. Every seat was occupied in the 3 local bars/coffee shop/bistros, and people were milling around. The attraction was a massive flea market set up in the park – dozens of stalls selling everything from antiques to used fax machines, and an equestrian spectacle promised to appear twice. (Judging from the photos, a combination of Camargue cowboys and circus acts. It was unclear whether the latter consisted of horses leaping on command, or horses being hoisted aloft by strong men.) But other than that, no marching bands, no drunken youths draped in French flags, no massive decorations… nothing like Canada Day at all. We drove to Marsanne for lunch, and asked the chef why the celebrations did not seem more in evidence. Oh, he said, it’s because we’re Catholics here. We don’t celebrate this; we celebrate the 15th of August. Still wondering about that one. The best I can turn up are a pair of factoids: it seems the French Revolution was not kind to the Catholic church; and 15 August is either Assumption Day (widely celebrated apparently) or the day Catholics were expelled from France for refusing to swear allegiance to the state. Perhaps there will be fireworks down the valley?

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAYS 7, 8, 9 (12 JULY 2010)

Montelemar gets a bum rap. Although it is the largest nearby town, many people have said it’s not worth a visit. But it seemed likely to have the largest of the Saturday markets, and I wanted fresh fish, so we headed off barely in time to get there before the market would close. Our Norwegian hosts the night before had said that the old military barracks had recently been converted to a new public space, and by coincidence, after getting lost several times on the way in, we ended up parked underground precisely there – the car out of the heat for a change. The market was not far off, and is interesting as it spreads from a small market square down several side streets, making the search for the fishmonger a bit of a treasure hunt. Once we’d put the fresh rascasse and dos de cabillaud, fresh basil and the amazing flat, white-fleshed peaches on ice in the trunk, we emerged from underground into some wonderful gardens planted around the new square, and noticed that there is a new municipal contemporary art gallery, so went in before lunch.

The current display was a huge collection of very large paintings by a Serbian artist, VLADIMIR VELIČKOVIĆ. It was so large that it took up the entire main gallery, as well as a refurbished ancient chapel in the old town. VELIČKOVIĆ has been working since the early 1960s, largely from memories stretching back to the Nazi occupation of Belgrade. He’s been evolving as he struggles to capture the experience of having lived through the sequence of atrocities committed in his home country, and that he’s succeeded in finding images that convey the horror of torture, death and destruction with ever greater clarity, even though living in France for years now. After spending two or three hours with his work, I’ve had to spend a couple of days thinking through the impact his work, and don’t have much coherent to say yet. Except that I’m more grateful than ever to have been raised in peaceful Canada.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly – a good restaurant in one of the converted barracks, and a lengthy stroll through town. The by-now-infamous Canadian barbecue lighter nearly won, but eventually Helen managed to coax the charcoal to light, after I’d given up in disgust and wandered off to sulk.

Sunday the heat reached a new high – I’m sure it was 36 or 37 degrees. A good day for reading. As 7 pm approached, we decided to go for a walk through the countryside, following a route we’d used 2 years ago. Somehow, though, we missed the turning for the relatively short return, and ended up walking about 8 km, the last 3 along the highway back to Chateauneuf. Virtue stockpiled.

Today, we decided to forego breakfast and head to Marsanne for lunch at L’Atelier, a nice looking place we’d noticed on the main square. It turned out to be excellent. After a good 3 course meal, we were advised to move to the garden for coffee, to avoid the concrete saws that had struck up on the main terrace. At last a really good cup of coffee! In a tremendously pleasant space full of butterflies and lavender, sitting beside a clear blue lap pool. What a treat. Followed by a hike up to the 12th century chapel at the top of the village, to wear off some of the calories. Clouds settling in late in the afternoon lowered the temperature – it’s nice to have some variation in the weather at last.

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAYS 4, 5, 6 (9 JULY 2010)

Lethargy may be starting to set in. Or maybe it is just the heat. The cooling winds have died down, driving the temperature up to the mid- to high-30s. It’s hard to work up enthusiasm for much more than reading and lounging on the terraces, trying to stay in the shade. Then yesterday evening, we called and then visited Norwegian friends of a friend back home. They own an old silk factory (une magnanerie) only about 10 minutes from where we are staying. We spent a wonderful evening sitting in their yard. Although the invitation was for a drink, that somehow morphed into a pleasant light meal as the temperature dropped, the sun sank, and glasses of rosé flowed. Charles and Kristen have been spending half their years in the area for 18 years now, and had some good tips for towns to visit and places to walk in the region. Driving home, I managed to miss the turn up to the village, and so got to explore exactly how dark it gets in the French countryside as I looked for a turnaround.

Today we failed again to get off to an early start heading to one of the better local markets, but did get there before the merchants began to fold up. The early July selection of vegetables is well advanced compared to what we’d get in Canada. The garlic harvest appears to be over, with bushels of huge purple heads everywhere at more-than-reasonable prices. And white-fleshed peaches, apricots, and fresh almonds and walnuts (too much work) all around. The bakers in the markets offer a vastly preferable product to the two local boulangeries in our little village, so we have stocked up again.

Spent the afternoon struggling with the “Canadian” charcoal lighter. After 3 tries, Helen managed to get it to work. This will have to be documented later.

Finished the day with a short drive to Marsanne (the town is not thought to be connected to the grape varietal) for a dinner with a Toronto schoolteacher who looks after our rental for much of the summer. He is about to move to Zurich, so much congratulations and enthusiasm all around. There were so many babies in the restaurant, it was a little hard to handle, but the waiters soon took the noisier in hand and carried them off around the square to quiet them.

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAY 3 (6 JULY 2010)

A stroke of luck. After only a few days, I began to wonder why we weren't staying here for the whole 2 weeks we have off. We're realizing this really is pretty much perfect, and the thought of moving around for a week, unpacking and repacking every day or 2 seems less appealing. And good luck – we are able to extend the rental for a second week. Done. Local market day in La Begude de Mazenc, the village that “owns” Chateauneuf. Apparently it is not yet full tourist season. Able to wander through with ease, we found some wonderful cheeses, olives, and fish fresher than I have seen since I was last near an ocean. The fishmonger had cabillaud available. Translated prosaically as “cod,” it has been my favourite French fish for a long time, and seems quite unlike what we call cod back home. I got the barbecue moved up from another tenant’s terrace, and on the second day’s efforts, mastered the “Canadian” charcoal lighter – a piece of stovepipe with draft holes – so I grilled the fish. It is also the season for a kind of pod-bean called “cocos blanches,” that turned out to be delicious cooked up with diced tomato, leeks, garlic, capers and fresh basil. I think my shoulders are beginning to relax…

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAY 2 (5 JULY 2010)

After a morning visit to the village and a good chunk of reading, it was clearly time to move. Needing a few more staples, and avoiding those Monday markets, we decided that after lunch we could drive to one of the nearby villages – Dieulefit – where the Super-U is. Dieulefit is a charming place, and Super-U is the Loblaws of Province. Two years ago we stopped in twice. The first time, in mid week, we arrived around 1:30 and everything was closed. The second time, arriving at noon, near the end of trading on market day, most stalls were clearing up and driving off. After we had lunch, everything was closed. Recalling that, we planned to go at about 3, when everything should have reopened. Hopefully, we wandered toward the zone pietonale, where there are many possibly-charming shops. All closed. We thought a glass of wine and a snack would be a good way to pass the time, but alas, a charming little restaurant we’d found last visit (Art-Home) had stopped serving. Staff sat around the terrace finishing their lunch. Same for the next place up the street. But we noticed signs in windows saying that post-siesta hours Monday and other weekdays began anywhere from 3:30 to 4:30. Heading past the medieval clock/sundial on the church tower (the sundial reading 2 hours earlier than the clock) we wandered up through the old town to waste some time. Around 4:30 we headed back into the commercial district and found everything closed, despite the signs in every window indicating the businesses were certainly open by that time. After a glass of wine from a “pub” whipped by winds that carried off the bill, we decided to face the fact there is a warning goes out in Dieulefit that lets them know we are coming, so the doors and windows can be properly locked and shuttered.

CHATEAUNEUF DE MAZENC, DAY 1 (4 JULY 2010)

Stores and bakeries being open Sunday morning but not beyond noon is incentive to rise earlyish and walk the 1 km down to La Begude de Mazenc in time to stock up on food to get through Sunday and Monday. Local advice is that Monday markets are to be avoided, and the local stores are closed. A beautiful sunny day, and it is downhill to the village. A group of 20 or so “hogs” and the Hell’s Accountants who ride them in France as in Canada are moored by the local bar/coffee shop. Starting at the butchers, we were 4th in line behind 2 matriarchs of the village. Not tracking too carefully, I missed how they got involved a heated exchange with the clerk (something about a telephone order gone bad), but eventually the man who clearly is a butcher came out to serve us. We started by ordering a chicken: un poulet rouge. He holds it up, black feet at the ends of the drumsticks, and it’s still feathered head dangling from the neck. Do we want it prepared? Huh? Oui, bien sur! That was the right answer. Not only had the bird’s appendages not been severed, it hadn’t yet been gutted. I was relieved to see the cleaning taken care of, and interested to see it done in full view of the shop. Some wonderful “jambon cru” – raw ham, Italian style, sliced to go with the seasonal melons, and on to the vegetable and fruit store. This is a little local establishment, and we’ve been told the proprietor grows as much of the produce herself as practical. We were bent on ratatouille since the ingredients are in season, and found the zucchini so fresh it couldn’t have been cut more than a couple of hours earlier. Local cheese is available in many varieties, so we picked up a picodon or 2 and some others never before seen to see how those go on toast. Apricots, peaches and baby artichokes are in season. July is a wonderful time to be here. Even the tomatoes are vine ripened, and from France, though I’ve no idea how that’s accomplished. And wine – a good time to begin a survey of Côtes du Rhone rosé. Amusingly, as she prepared our bill, the proprietor asked if we had come on foot from Châteauneuf-de-Mazenc (i.e., 1 km up the hill). On hearing “yes” she looked at us in disbelief for carrying so much stuff such a distance, and counseled stopping frequently to rest on the return.

Preparing to travel to India

Let me tell you a little tale about getting a visa to go to Hyderabad, India for a United Nations agency's conference (the ITU's World Telecommunication Development Conference).

Of course the Indian visa application form is about the worst I've ever endured. But I soldiered on, telling them how I acquired Canadian citizenship, and trying to list every country I've been to in the last 10 years. *THEN* I took the completed form to the newly-outsourced visa issuing office for India, where I followed ITU instructions and asked for a conference visa.

The following conversation took place.

Them: "Conference visas are almost impossible to get. You won't have time now." (this was last Monday) "The Indian government has to write a letter to us [the outsourcees] verifying that they approve of the conference, and that takes time, and besides the Indian High Commission is closed all this week."

Me: what can I do?

Them: Well, get a business visa.

Me: OK.

Them: But you need a letter from a business headquartered in India inviting you to come.

Me: Ah! But I am going to a conference, and I don't know any businesses in India, so I can't get a letter.

Them: Too bad.

Me: Well what can I do?

Them: I will be back in a minute. (walks out of the office, and returns 5 min later)

Them: why don't you ask for a tourist visa?

Me: Because the UN Agency told me to apply for a conference visa so I could go to a conference.

Them: but that will take too long. We had another man in here last week wanting a conference visa, but he didn't get it in time, so he had to cancel his trip. If he had asked for a tourist visa, we could have given it to him the next day.

Me: but I don't want to do anything illegal.

Them: They don't care.

Me: OK. Can I have a tourist visa please?

Them: But it says here you want a conference visa, right on the form!

Me: Ah! May I have that form back please.

Them: Why?

Me: I want to adjust it.

Them: OK (hands over the form)

Me: (taking a pen and heavily crossing out "conference visa" writing in "tourist visa") I would like to apply for a tourist visa.

Them: OK. It will be ready tomorrow.

Seriously.

The Mysteries of Africa

I've hardly been home this month -- visited Nairobi for 10 days, then Geneva for another 6. I did get a free day in Kenya, and went with friends to the closest National Park for a half day, followed by a visit to Karen Blixen's estate. The park was interesting. We saw the very rare black rhinoceros, a bunch of different sorts of antelopes, giraffes, zebras, warthogs, etc. I have many pictures that are best narrated by saying: "...and that black dot over there is an oryx..." And who knows? Maybe it is. It's the first time I've seen a reason for one of those monster telephoto lenses, but still am not tempted to carry one. The Blixen place was sort of interesting. As we drove toward it, suddenly all things were named Karen: Karen Elementary School, Karen Pharmacy, Karen Lumber Yard, Karen Fresh Fruit. And then we arrived at a lovely, modest bungalow centred in the midst of a large lawn. Tents were being erected for a wedding reception to be held that night. Signing on for a tour, we were warned that no photos were allowed inside the house, though the exterior was fair game. Why? Because the "out of africa" movie folks own the intellectual property rights to the appearance of the rooms of the house. Making that seem even stranger, no parts of the film were shot inside the house -- the rooms are too small to accommodate massive professional filming equipment. They had constructed a set (in Surrey) that looked about right, but leaving off at least one wall of each room so they could zoom in and out. Only the exterior had been in the film, and yet that was the part they hadn't bought the rights to. Another IP mystery to add to the collection.