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12 December 2010
Getting to Aups
We have made it to Tellus et Les Etoiles in Aups. It has been a whirlwind getting here. We wanted to be in the Midi before the beginning of the Latin yule which started yesterday. Joe was an absolute dear and drove us to Boston for our flight to London on the 22nd. Arriving at the flat there was like re-entering a third world: the living room radiator was not working, nor was the TV and nor was my wifi connection. And every time I went to a store, it would take the clerk fifteen minutes in the least to get the register or whatever other electronic contraption to work. It became completely predictable.
We had five nights in London before taking the train to Glasgow. During the week, we had a lovely evening with Gin and Rix and another when we invited our neighbours, Peter and Shirley, over for malt whiskeys. A Society visit was out of the question for lack of time. The Saturday train ride to Scotland went through the snow-covered British countryside which was enchantingly beautiful.
We spent the night at John's in Glasgow along with Wee Frank and Wee Robert. We had a super lovely evening that concluded for Richard and me with some Glenfiddich that John produced. We had planned to stay two nights in Glasgow and a third then with Marion in Loch Lomond, but the forecast was dire, and we realized that we should leave after the one night. The snow had not fallen over night as we expected. The real blizzard was to take place on Monday, and when we woke on Sunday morning, only a few flakes were in the air. But this changed rapidly, and within the hour there was no way to get to the train station apart from walking. Wee Robert led the way for us. I only fell once – pulling a leg muscle that remained sore for the next several days. Leslie met us in Dumbarton with the car that we have named 'Marion' (formerly Myrna) in honour of Leslie and Marion who gave her to us. We had a brief breakfast of coffee and mince pies at Leslie's mother's, Shirley. In her 90s but coping remarkably, that for me was a real treat. And then we set off to navigate the snows en route to London. Fortunately, once we got south of Glasgow, the blizzard ceased, and once we crossed the ridges that were the highest elevation points, we could relax. We had set off by 12:40 and reached the Whitelands House in London by 21:00.
So we ended up having two extra days in London. Shirley and Peter had us over Monday night for more malt (18 year old Macallan) and dinner. The following evening we saw the film The Social Network. On Wednesday, we packed the car to the brim with what we had once kept in the Whitelands storage room until it was taken away a few years ago forcing us to stack about ten suitcases in the corridor before the door to the flat. It took us most of the day to get everything into the car and finally set off for Harwich about 15:00. Fortunately I had not got as far as the Parliament when I realized I had forgotten my passport. The ride was torturous and bitterly cold, and we snaked through the snow and eventually found the ferry.
The night crossing was uneventful, but then we had the drive from the Hoek van Holland to Amsterdam in the dark and snow. It should have normally taken us little more than an hour, but we did not reach our house until after four hours. Traffic was virtually at a standstill for large portions both to the city and once in it. Getting lost did not help – especially when everyone we asked for the direction to the center did not know where the center was. I phoned Warren at one point, and seconds later a sign indicating Centrum appeared. So after unpacking the car, we drove her to Stephan and Koen's where we were served a lovely omelette lunch.
The Amsterdam house was in a state of dishevelment, and we spent most of the rest of the day putting her back into some sort of order but still managed to run across the street to see Nick and Ilonka. It was a thrill to find Nick looking and acting so well and a vast improvement over how he was when we last saw him. That evening was a further round of what we call 'Boys Night Out' – Warren, Thomas and Jim all meeting on the Warmoesstraat at what used to be Café Pacifico but has now become an Argentinian steak house. Even the margaritas were disappointing, but it was still fun and enjoyable to be with the old gang.
The following day was more housework and unpacking and re-packing. We dashed at the end of the afternoon once again to Nick and Ilonka's where we all enjoyed champagne – until my mobile phone rang, and, thinking it was Bill at our door (I had left a note) to help me with my SIM card installation and website, I had to dash out. It was not Bill as it turned out. But Ricardo showed up instead and stayed for more champagne that we then had with Stephan and Koen. Fred and Vicky joined us in time, and we all had dinner at the house – Vicky supplying the salad and one of the desserts. Fred, who has been ill, was, like Nick, looking infinitely better and said he was feeling good as well. It was a most enjoyable evening.
Saturday was our last day in Amsterdam, and we had scheduled it to be free. We got to our neighbouring coffee shop, Barney's, by early afternoon and relaxed there for an hour or two before wandering the town. Despite the bitter cold, we needed this moment just to re-center in what is our favourite hometown. Amsterdam is magical – not only for its political tolerance and freedom but also for its oldness and singular beauty. Though we are nomads and have multiple treasured homes, this is our home of homes. The Sinterklaas spirit and festivities were everywhere evident, and we grounded in the uncanniness of the place.
A Sunday morning taxi took us to Stephan and Koen's. After coffee and keerst snoepjes, we were off in the car by 10:30. The day was warmer but rainy, dark and still with hazardous snow. The traffic was extremely heavy by the time we reached Paris and Francoise's around 18:00. She served us whisky and a poule au pot. It was another most appreciated welcome. We then took a taxi to the flat in the Marais.
We had three days in Paris in all. The first two were spent mostly doing chores – including losing my bank card in the ATM when I could not remember the pin. We did fit in tea at the Tea Caddy twice, and the first night we had dinner at our favourite Mexican restaurant in the world, Anahua Calli ('Little House by the River'). The days were snowy, rainy, cold and miserable, but Paris is still Paris, and it is always wondrous to be there. I purchased a dongle for my MacBook Air and eventually got it to work – both in Paris and at the farm. Our second night we went first to a Scotch Malt Whisky bar and had some Coal Ila and Laphraoig before trying the restaurant Glou (recommended by both Francoise and Stephan) across from the Picasso Museum and near to the flat. The recommendations appeared to be well-founded. Francoise convinced us that the weather was too treacherous for traveling, so we opted to spend Wednesday in Paris as well. We went to the Louvre for the day, and what had started out as a grey, dark and rainy day turned into yet again another blizzard while we were enjoying the feast of visuals inside. Paris transformed into a winter wonderland – one to rival the bastion of beauty that the Louvre represents. We returned that evening to Anahua Calli.
Wednesday morning we returned to Francoise's in Charenton where we had left the car. She served us tea, an egg and some toast. While there, I also got to meet Francoise's sister Babette. It was strange because the two are locked into a legal battle, and the sister has been as 'evil' as some sisters can be. But she was pleasant, and, while we were there, the two acted as if everything was friendly and normal. We left around 11:00. The snow on the ground was icy and treacherous yet again, but the sun was out and so bright that it was impossible on the Peripherique to read the road signs. So we ended up at first heading back toward Lille. Eventually, however, we got onto the Autoroute du Soleil and into some extremely dense fog further south. The ride should have been eight hours, and we made it in nine. A fiercely cold mistral in the Midi allowed us at least to see the dazzling stars over the Provence.
We have come home for a year. Slowly but steadily we are getting ourselves and our house here organized, and already we are happy to be once again in this 'Way to the Alps' village with its ancient ways and beauty. The weather challenges in getting here have been trials, but in the last two years, apart from the cold and wet in Istanbul, the cold for our first week in Lebanon and rain in Ohio and Georgia, we have had nothing but perfect weather virtually everywhere we have been. So what we have just been through has been, fortunately, inconsequential. We watched the sun set yesterday into a former volcano. It was the feriae of Sol Indiges, the indigenous sun. The Latin yuletide culminates with the winter solstice which this year is the prelude for 'our year in the Provence'.