La Grêve - Strike!

- from a 5 July 2013 article in Liberation.


Two days before our departure to Paris by the TGV, a friend casually said, “ Better check on the strike.”

Strike? Une grêve? That word instills terror in the hearts of the traveler especially when it concerns mass transit. The newscasts spoke of between 150,000-350,000 demonstrators (depending on the source). Unions asked the public to support the strike for the entire week by refraining from use of public transit.

The strike was scheduled to end Wednesday at 8 a.m., five minutes before our 8:05 a.m. departure. There was no way to get an update—the train stations were locked. Websites gave the basic information. Our TGV might leave, but we couldn’t take an early local train to Cannes. I spent a sleepless night, imaging all possible scenarios.

At the Cannes station, local trains had delays. The TGV would leave as scheduled.
We boarded, in a state of disbelief! At 8:05 a.m., our trained pulled away from the station.

We descended from the train in Paris under gray skies and joined the hundreds of other passengers, pulling rolling suitcases. The métros ran efficiently. We made our business appointments.


Our one-night stay left no time for relaxation. At the Gare de Lyon while we awaited the departure of our TGV for Cannes, we ordered our usual café gourmand, thankful the strike was no longer foremost on our minds.

Café gourmand at the Train Bleu, Gare de Lyon

Du jour au lendemain

Early September on beaches of Juan-les-Pins, France.

Colorful umbrellas line private beaches with restaurants. Small boats take tourists on tours of the coast or to the Lerins Islands.

Dateline Juan-les-Pins - Early to mid September brings the transition from thick crowds and heavy traffic on the coast to work-related traffic jams.  The clientele has changed.  No longer one of tourists or families but an increasing number of locals come because they can now find space for their towels on the sand, and retirees, who take advantage of off-season prices. 

Beach restaurants, where you wait in line for a table in high season, now have empty tables any time of day or night.   But the other cafés, open year round, will continue to draw crowds.  Boutiques return to off-season hours. 

In the late summer and early fall, the weather changes from one day to the next—mostly sunny skies, punctuated by the occasional day or gray, rainy day.  Days like this clear beaches and boardwalks.  The few hardy pedestrians are warmly dressed in sweaters or light jackets.  And there are those few people who get in a daily swim.  

A few signs advertise the end of the season.  Things will pick up slightly around the December holidays—after all, this region offers the best European climate—but only return to full season in May. 

I was an unpopular snack mom. . . . .

I was an unpopular snack mom. . . . .

At the beginning of the school year, all parents signed up to bring Kleenex, school supplies and a snack. The teachers were adamant about food--only healthy snacks. No sugar treats that gave the kids the jitters for the rest of the day.

When my turn came, I packed the carrot and celery sticks, apple slices, raisins and bananas. The teachers did specify healthy snacks, no sugar. Diet soda, not regular, and juices.

But my kids returned home, embarrassed and ashamed. The popular room mothers brought brownies, donuts. . . . .soda with all the calories. The class was happily wired. Sugar-infused behavior seemed the norm.

I was out of the loop. There was an unspoken conspiracy, a discrepancy between school rules and daily practice.

Then I remembered all those lunches my mom carefully packed. The little bags of healthy carrots and apples, the long pretzels or a few saltines. She wanted us to have good strong bodies and minds. We chomped away on our snacks, but at times we worked at trading these with friends, who had lunches packed with sweet treats--small pies with marshmallow topping or cakes with cream filling.

What snacks did you bring or trade?