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. 

Musings--quick takes Juan-les-Pins

Boardwalk at Juan-les-Pins. Lots of walkers, joggers, dogs and children. The water is too cold for me, but others seem to be enjoying it. Still a few more days to eat at the restaurants on the beach . . . .

Window shopping in Juan-les-Pins. . . . The trip was, after all, for work. Boutique owners have about another month of tourists and sales, then the town quiets down for several months. Many stores close in the winter season.

I love the late-afternoon light in September. This photo was taken near Opio. Lots of Americans and British live in this area, given the proximity to Sophia Antipolis. Not to mention the climate.

My favorite restaurant in Juan-les-Pins, Le Paradis, has been sold to a chain. I will miss its talented staff, great cuisine and atmosphere.

My favorite bookstore, right across from the Crystal, has an excellent selection of French literary works as well as English books and guides. The owner includes short reviews with each book in the display.

The night before I left, we had our kir at the Crystal, something of a tradition.

Detours and Open-toe shoes

I traveled from Florida with my shoes—all open toed—which is fine for most days in the Sunshine State but not practical for rain and chilly weather in Juan-les-Pins. I planned to buy new shoes in Cannes, but the G-20 followed by rains and flooding delayed shopping.

Bijou Plage - Nov. 5, 2011 - Brewing storm

Anyway, weather conditions meant our thoughts shifted from shopping to the more pragmatic tasks of emptying buckets under leaking roofs.

Just when we assumed the rains had passed, the waves began to lash at the coast, carrying off much of the sand on narrow beaches (the last big waves were in May 2010).


The beaches look like this in summer months.

July 2011 - Plage de la Salis (Antibes)

After the violent waves, they looked like this.

After the storm - Plage la Salis (Nov. 12, 2011)


Flooding closed down the seaside roads and the N-7, which runs parallel. Detour signs took us back inland, where cars and trucks had run off the road due to flooding. Traffic problems meant the usual 20-minute commute turned into one of three hours.

Detour signs appeared on coastal and inland roads.

Sun and people return to the boardwalk (Nov. 9, 2011)

With the return of beautiful weather, everyone returned to the boardwalks to assess the damage, commenting, “La mer a bouffée la plage” (the sea gobbled up the beach). Trees and logs washed up on Antibes beaches, and seaweed covered those at Juan-les-Pins. Rocks, gravel and dirt littered inland roads.

Once the storms subsided and the detour signs disappeared, I went to Cannes for more practical, closed-toe shoes. . . .

For vivid photos of the storm (I was either mopping up or keeping shutters closed), please visit the Nice Matin, http://www.nicematin.com/diaporama/coup-de-mer-sur-la-cote-dazur-les-images?idx=1#top-diapo.

A Lazy Sunday in Juan-les-Pins

The summer tourists have left Juan-les-Pins, but beautiful weather has kept crowds coming to this beachside resort.

I have returned to work on a family project. And Sunday evening I went by the Crystal, my favorite cafe, to have a kir and watch people.

My day started early--around 8 a.m. with a 20-minute walk from Juan-les-Pins along the N-7 to the old Antibes market, which presents a unique sensory experience. Colors and smells of flowers, spices and olives, sausages, fish, meats and cheese, wines as well as small packets of Provencal herbs and lavender.

Chrysanthemums are put on tombs for All Saints' Day (Nov. 1), which is a holiday. I always run in the absinthe store and a few small boutiques.

I leave the market, wander narrow streets and then follow the ramparts where cars and cyclists whiz by.

The Plage de la Salis is one of my favorite beaches because of the view--the old city of Antibes with the alps in the background and parasol pines of the Cape d'Antibes.

Cyclists continue along the Cap d'Antibes, but I take the Chemin des Sables, which cuts across the Cape, to Juan-les-Pins. It's nearly 10:30 a.m. and I need to run by a grocery store for the things I did not want to carry on my walk. Stores are open only Sunday morning and then reopen on Monday.

Everything has been within walking distance.

There's always something special about a lazy Sunday with no real schedule.

On another note, I am sure the people in Cannes preparing for the G-20 Summit, would have loved a lazy Sunday. . . .

Santé!

My dad used to wonder if TGIF would have the same meaning if we didn't have to work. . . . I'd like to carry out this experiment.

But for now, it's TGIF!

Join me before 8 p.m. at the Crystal! Why before 8? Because you get a nice little plate of amuse-gueules along with your drink.

Enjoy!

The Raccourci to becoming (à peu près) quintessentially French. . . . by Jane Tolbert

Antibes

Years and years of working on the French “Rrrrr” has been to no avail. I am always pegged as an American. Whenever I am in France—Paris, in particular--my American accent surfaces, obtrusive and grating. Language tapes then DVDs and patient friends have all tried. During my early travels, I hesitated to ask directions of passersby. Gendarmes made me repeat my address -- Rue St. Honoré. “Roo?” they questioned with a smile. It could have been worse for an “R-challenged” Francophile. I could have lived near the métro Barbès-Rochechouart.

When I moved to the South of France (and fortunately to the Chemin des Ames du Purgatoire in Antibes) , two things occurred. First, I found myself in an area with an infiltration of Italians and international residents that created a nice mixture of accents. The Rrrrrs no longer took on importance. Next, the languid lifestyle and relaxed conversation got me interested in popular culture. But it took years of café sitting for me to discover an effective way of becoming French (or at least, French à la provençale).


Juan-les-Pins

Developing a proficiency at pétanque would certainly be more productive that additional years working on the Rrrrr.

Pétanque, which takes place in most town squares or on dirt parking lots, seems to be a passion in Provence that affects all ages, both males and females. Just in Juan-les-Pins alone, several pétanque groups met around the Pinède and in the Square Frank Jay Gould, overlooking the Mediterranean. But other sites also existed (such as along the Place Villmorin). In Antibes, groups of pétanque players have gathered for years near the Plage de la Salis at the end of the Boulevard Albert Ier.

Juan-les-Pins

Teams of players take turns tossing a metal ball (that weighs approximately 1 pound 10 ounces) as close as possible to a small wooden ball, the cochonnet (piglet). With feet planted and knees slightly bent, the players focus, concentrate then, with their palms turned down, lob the ball.

Now that I have had this epiphany, the next issue becomes where to purchase a pétanque set in the States? And where with our paved drives and green lawns will I find a nice dirt terrain de jeu where I can practice without injuring passersby or pets? Ideally, it would be with proximity to a café . . . .


Chez moi

I made a quick call to Sports Authority to learn whether the store had pétanque sets in stock. “No, I haven’t heard of that really,” said the clerk. Amazon carries nearly everything and offers a beginner set that includes six or eight chrome balls for around $30 (plus a hefty shipping charge for the 13-pound package). Competition sets sell for much more.

Given that the pétanque set would not be forthcoming, I called ABC about the pastis. “Can you spell that for me?” The store keeper seemed skeptical but checked. He carries both Ricard and Pernod. Mais quel dommage! I do not like pastis, but at least it’s a start to introducing the “sport” of pétanque to Gainesville.