Tag einen und halben Tag (July 31 p.m. and August 1)
Berlin
August 1 …Guten Abend
So for starters, my German is nil! I actually studied written German when I was pursuing a PhD many years ago for my language requirement… I never spoke a word, and the course was totally how to translate written German into English. As I recall, all the other PhD candidates in the German course were scientists and engineers. So, now you know not to expect too much from me on this matter. And everyone from taxi drivers to workers to shopkeepers seem to speak English here in Berlin, so you barely have to extend any effort to be polite using German.
After our very very long day yesterday, we walked to dinner to Borchardt — a somewhat upscale, business kind of place that appears to have a lot of history and is probably very busy with business people for lunch. Food was good — much larger portions than we are accustomed to in California… and prices to match the size of the portions! I had the sea bass with tomato risotto and Mike had a veal dish. both were good… not great. We meandered back to the hotel (by now we had been up for about 20 hours.. and I had a bit of work to do, so tack on another two hours.
We were determined to sleep until we got up… and we did! Until about 9:30 am!! — nearly 7 hours.
Started the day at Einstein Café.. a sort of German Starbucks.. nearly a total duplicate. It was close to the hotel and really easy.
We then began our trek… having laid out a walking map for the first full day, last night.
Our total walk was more than 8 miles!! And we strolled lots of neighborhoods from the Mitte to Kreuzberg to a bit of Pankow.. saw the old and the new, artsy areas and totally business political zones and ended up at the Holocaust Memorial which was far more powerful than I anticipated, but more on that later.
The big impressions — unbelievable transit options (although we haven’t used any yet, since we only used our feet which are very tired at this point); lots of parks and green areas interspersed throughout the city; wonderfully defined sidewalks paved for bikes, pedestrians, café outdoor eating; tons of bookstores (which I guess I notice since the Bay Area is now so embarrassingly void of book stores.
It’s been really interesting to see the changes here. Mike and I were last here when the Berlin Wall was still standing (having driven all through northern East Germany (from Sasnitz to Berlin). We actually experienced Checkpoint Charlie (which was removed after the end of the Cold War and the reunification of Germany; as I recall, it was actually only a wooden hut in the street; today there is a small replica and this fake checkpoint Charlie is very popular with tourists who take their photographs in front of it.) We also walked for a while on the metal strip that was the base for the “wall”.. It’s lined with a fairly interesting set of historical photos of what the street looked like when the wall was still in existence.. Hard to believe! Tonight a taxi driver (we were too tired to walk to the restaurant we chose) told us that he was in the 4th grade in 1989 when the wall came down and he remembers that his class took a trip to the Eastern side and they were all told to bring chocolates as gifts for their East German hosts (because chocolate was a rare treat for those kids).
Other than the fact that whenever you approach broad boulevards with about six lanes for cars in each direction — and broad deep sidewalks (mostly treeless) — and bureaucratic looking buildings (remains of the old East Berlin), you really never know if you’re in the old East or in the West side of the city. Actually most of our day was spent in the old East Berlin side.
Eventually — through our very circuitous 8-mile route — (the hotel is actually just about a half mile stroll to the monument) — we reached the Holocaust Memorial. It’s located in the Mitte section of town… on a piece of land formerly known as the “death strip,” near the Brandenburg Gate — where the Wall once stood. Interestingly it is opposite the American Embassy (a new building). It’s a series of 2,711 rectangular solids, all somber gray .. The “pillars” or rectangular solids vary in height but are all the same width and depth and all are lined up in a grid like fashion that is slightly imperfect. The ground is also set at a mildly sloping up and down format.. and as you walk between the rows you are in a rather tight space.. probably about 3 ft apart. In some ways it’s a bit like a cemetery with monuments of varying sizes, all lined up, and based on the age of the monument some leaning. It was a contemplative way to end the day.
We went to a little place called Noto for dinner, in the Mitte… we ate outside on the sidewalk on folding chairs. Super relaxed; great food. We shared their special spare ribs with a slaw salad, and a beef tomato stuffed with barley and goat cheese sitting on top of a fennel salad. The staff was very friendly, and supposedly Brad Pitt eats here when he’s in Berlin. Guess he wasn’t there tonight.. In any case, it’s the kind of place that wouldn’t really do much even if Brad showed up.. It’s just really laid back..
OK.. I’m signing off as it is now approaching that 2 am moment.
Guten Abend..Aufwiedesien
Fern
FRANCE Summer 2012: Violes and Cairanne. 7/28/2012
I’m having computer problems so this note might have lots if typos as I’m writing on my iPhone which has that auto-correct feature Hopefully It won’t be too bad and I can figure out my computer and iPad connection problems by tomorrow.
Finished dinner last night in Avignon around midnight (oh so cosmopolitan ). Finally got to bed at 2. Woke at 4 because air conditioning went on the blink and it was stifling. It was over 90 during the day and it didn’t cool off much in the evening. Eventually slept after hotel brought up a fan.
Then I think the fact that we had been up about 40 hours straight sunk in and next thing we knew it was noon. (Check out time!). Dashed around. Showered. And left hotel around 1:30 to find “breakfast”. Settled into the bustle of July in Avignon.
People everywhere. It’s the annual theater festival. Street performers all over. Musicians on the street. Open-air markets selling old LPs and books. Strolled a bit. Had some food and then headed to Violes which is where we’ll stay—about 6 kilometers from Cairainne where Mike’s brother has a house.
We have a navy blue BMW hatchback with GPS!
Took about 40 minutes to get from Avignon and during that time dozens of emails were flying as to how to get Richard out of the house to be able to set up for the party. Finally the decision was that Emma, Hem, and Julia would bring Richard to our hotel under some false pretense of having a drink or something (without saying that we will be at the place for drinks). So we would still be the first surprise. They would leave saying they were preparing a special birthday dinner. Then we would bring him to the house for the surprise party. Sounded like a plan.
We arrived at the hotel (Chateau le Martinet), where we have never stayed before. Frankly, I think we have stayed at every bonafide hotel/inn within a 15 mile radius of Cairanne and still have not found a place we like. This place looked a bit like a “ruin.” Well let’s just say it could use a little work and must have been great in another era. But here we are and at least the AC is functional. So we won’t roast.
But when we arrived, no one was to be found at the chateau. No receptionist. No one. We sat on the front deck and waited about 15 minutes. Finally a rather frazzled woman appeared. She didn’t speak English but we understood that she had been doing the laundry. She showed us our room—up two long flights of stairs. The air conditioning was on, so we were happy campers. But the room looks like it was decorated by an interior designer who does bordellos. Silver puffy cushions. Black and silver print wallpaper. Fur pillows. Need I say more ? Definitely not my taste.
Well the double surprises went off well, and Richard was truly surprised. About 20 people. Everyone had some kind of US /North American connection although the group was mostly French and a few Swiss. Someone had gone to grad school in Texas. Someone had been on the faculty at UV. Someone’s son is a PhD candidate at Princeton. Someone’s daughter is a journalist living in Brooklyn. And someone’s son married a Canadian and they live in Vancouver. Guess it’s that 6 degrees of separation thing. The Americans: two couples- who now live in France — one full time and the other is here six months each year. One was an academic who taught at University of Rochester and did sabbatical in this area. Fell in love with this part of Provence. Bought a house 30 years ago and when they retired decided to make this home. The other couple—he’s a lawyer who was with DOE—they bought a house a long time ago too. They spend 6 months here and 6 months in DC. All in all, an interesting crowd.
By the way, when we left the bordello. … sorry, the hotel… the woman who had been doing the laundry was even more frazzled. Someone wanted bottled water and the phone rang. Needed to do two things at the same time… Oh so difficult. But she asked when we would come back and we said midnight. Oh no!! Mais oui!! Big problem. They lock the door at 11. So they showed us a back door and said that door will be unlocked. I should have figured out then, that there would be a problem when we returned.
We didn’t get back until 230 am
When we arrived the gate that you drive through to get to the hotel was locked. And it was pitch black out. With the car lights on we could see that there was a ledge on the left side that we might be able to climb up although there were rocks on top. But Mike thought they were not attached. Then we’d have to jump down. Ok so I do have the flashlight app on my iPhone but that was useless. Fortunately for some unknown reason Mike had his keyring in his pocket and last month he was a speaker at a conference and they gave everyone a little key ring flashlight!! So he “lit” the path. We climbed up to the ledge. Slid in between the big iron gate (10 ft tall) and the wall. And jumped down. Of course, the door that was to be left open was not open. So we didn’t know what to do. Figured we’d drive to Cairanne and stay at Richard and Elizabeth’s although their place was pretty full. Thought about sleeping in the car. Frankly mostly I thought about how we’d have to go back on the ledge to get to the other side of the high gate.
On the off chance that maybe someone would hear us we went to the front of the house up the stairs. And we saw one room with a light on. I wanted to yell up. But Mike thought we’d wake people up. We called on the phone but no answer. A woman stuck her head out of the window of the lit room. And in my best French I said we had a room. I think she knew. She said the door was “ouvert.” And we came inside. Found our key at reception. And here we are. Air conditioned and keeping eyes closed so as not to be distracted by the shiny silver decor.
Aurevoir.. Fern
Bonsoir (from Avignon)-
I warn you in advance — this is a very tame travelogue… nothing exotic. We’re headed to see Mike’s brother in the south of France (it’s his birthday and we are part of the surprise); then on to Berlin for a few days; from there to Brno, Czech Republic overnight to see the family of an old friend who passed away about a month ago (we were headed to see him on the 10th anniversary of his heart transplant surgery) and then he died unexpectedly; and then loop back to Paris for a few days of walking and eating.
Finally, we are now in Avignon.
Survived a series of incredibly intense and long days and weekends over the past two weeks, finishing several projects, getting caught up on others, managing to have a few surprise urgent projects with quick turnaround… and attempting to fit in as many films as possible at the always-wonderful San Francisco Jewish Film Festival.. so packing and our departure were a bit insane. But it was a little worse than a bit insane this time. I managed to finish packing at 2 am on Wednesday night (Thursday morning) and the alarm went off at 4:30 for the 5:30 taxi pick up. Mike never did finish so he just stayed up. Left SFO almost without a hitch. We had a strange connection — SFO to Houston; Houston to Paris (??) Getting to SFO at about 6 am, we stopped for a little petite dejeuner – American style – at the airport and then realized it was nearly time to board. Didn’t look closely enough at the boarding passes; we were leaving from Gate 96 … which I thought sounded a bit high, but headed to the end of the United Concourse (gate 90) just as we realized that Gate 96 is in the International Terminal… But we were going to Houston and changing planes to cross the ocean there… Anyway, as I always surmised, Texas is another country. And when you are going from the Bay Area they understand this and send you through the international terminal. Made the flight and tried to nap on the plane, but wound up watching Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (which I had already seen) on the screen.
Nearly missed the Paris connection, because there were storms over Texas (how appropriate) and we were told that we might land as much as two hours late (definitely miss the connecting flight) or just 5 minutes late. Landed about 35 minutes late which was fine except that the walk between gates and terminals in Houston is definitely Texas size. Fortunately we were upgraded, so the flight was fine.. arrived at Charles DeGaulle at 8:15 am Paris time (close to midnight body time, having been up by then for just about 40 hours. But we were not staying in Paris..
We were headed toward the Air France bus to take us to the train station (Gare Lyon) which doesn’t have direct connection from CDG.. to get to Avignon… when Mike said he was too tired to negotiate the bus and decided on a taxi, which he admitted halfway into the drive was probably a mistake. Those Air France coaches are pretty cushy. So we arrived at Gare Lyon with about three hours to waste… But then – Lara to the rescue. Our goddaughter came to the station to join us for coffee and we chatted so the three hours went quickly. At the table next to us a couple started a short conversation with us (they heard us speaking English). They are currently living in Florida, but had lived most of their professional lives in San Jose and were originally from Ohio. While the initial conversation was cordial (she hates Florida), a few minutes later they overheard our conversation with Lara about the status of the Presidential election — and she quickly turned and said — “Oh if you want to hear the other side, you should sit at this (her) table; “Our concern is that we don’t want to live in a country with a king and all his welfare people.” That pretty summed it up as a voice from America.
Took the TGV to Avignon… whre we rented a car at the station and found our way through the walled city to the Cloitre San Louis — a hotel that I stayed in this past February (without Mike). A 16th Century renovated cloister, with a new addition by Jean Nouvel. As Mike crashed into deep sleep oblivion, I showered and then took a walk around town — realizing just how much season matters. I was here in February for 5 days and it snowed and was windy and extremely cold; days were short; sun was non-existent. Today, we drove up to the hotel at around 6 pm, it was 80 degrees; the sun was shining and hot. In February, Carol and I were practically the only people out in the streets (temperature was about 30); tonight as I took a walk from 6:30 to 8, the streets were packed, cafes were all full (Unlike Mike who zonked out at 5:30 pm, just five minutes after we arrived in Avignon — I believe you need to stay up as late as you can to normalize your body and your psyche into the new time zone; that’s why I change the time on my watch to the new zone as soon as I board a plane).
So Avignon looks totally different than it did in February. In February, with things covered with flecks of snow and the wind blowing and the skies extremely blue — Avignon was like a precious gem without much life, given that there were so few people around — no tourists, only actual Avignon residents at work inside buildings. It sparkled. Now it’s fun and lively, full of people, markets, and street vendors.. noisy, a bit gritty, but totally lovely. Lots of tourists (or so I suspect because you hear a lot of languages) and people are literally lining up to get tickets to one of the many, many performances that are happening in dozens of venues — inside and out.
We’re headed for dinner soon (9:30 here in France); Mike has emerged.
Tomorrow after a somewhat leisurely breakfast, we’ll explore summer in Avignon again (Been here once before in June but only passing through) and then head to Violes which is about 7 miles from where Mike’s brother lives (in Cairanne).
The real story will unfold tomorrow.
Best –
Fern
Tunica, gambling, and more:: Mississippi. 5/5/12
Hi all
I started out early, but somehow arrived in Tunica really late for my morning meeting. Bridge closed and needed alternate route but GPS was obstinate. Accident on the one lane road. And then stuck behind trucks. Impossible to pass. Then needed gas. Anyway, finally got to Tunica.
Arrived at the “office” of Concerned Citizens for a Bettor Tunica Long narrow space-piled everywhere with papers and booklets and organizing paraphernalia. Barely room for the four of us to meet. Hadn’t been to Tunica before.
Once again, an organization that is very family-run. Mother. Father. Grown daughter. Every group I met with here in Mississippi had intertangled family running it. Siblings. Aunts. Parents. Grandparents and even exes. Someone’s daughter is on someone else’s board or staff. Someone’s spouse is employed by another’s board member. But it works and certainly eliminates the 9 to 5 problem. This work is definitely driven by passion. The groups operate on shoestring budgets and hosts of volunteers.
Again CCBT is focused on education reform, and redistricting, and accountability of elected and appointed officials.
Tunica — population 1,100 in the town and 10,000 in the county — is different from the other communities in a striking way. Tunica is home to 11 casinos. Until the 1990s, Tunica was considered one of the most impoverished communities in the entire country and was known for its open sewers. Now it’s the third largest gambling area in the US. While the casino funds have definitely helped the schools, it’s a pittance in relation to the earnings of Harrah’s and the likes.
But now the 29 sq mile area (known as “Tunica Resorts” — population zero) is looking into incorporating into its own town with plans for upscale housing and senior developments. If this is approved, the impact on Tunica schools could be devastating. At the moment, Tunica boasts fairly new, well-equipped school buildings and funds to pay teachers higher salaries to attract them to the region.
The issue of quality teachers came up numerous times, and residents in the Delta have some strong opinions about Teach For America which is sending many many young people to the Delta to compensate for their difficulty attracting teachers. Local activists don’t like TFA because they feel the young people are not culturally sensitive and that by the time they understand the community and culture (if they get to that point), they are ready to complete their two year commitment. I heard this again and again. They fell TFA gives experience to the young teachers but doesn’t help their community.
After meeting with Marilyn, Mel, and Ashley, we headed for lunch with the leaders from Duck Hill (population 746) where I had visited a few years ago. Lunch (to my surprise) was at the casino!! Buffets galore — Asian, BBQ, Southwest, Italian, you name it– I opted for the salad bar.
My quick assessment of who was on the slots would say a racial mix (and some of the organizers admitted quickly that they come to the casino often to play slots). So maybe a windfall will wind up helping these nonprofits bolster their coffers! I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Oh another interesting story. One of the really small organizations that works with youth was approached thru Ben and Jerry’s Foundation about doing a youth exchange with a small rural town in Vermont and they did it. Ten high school kids from the Delta went to Vermont…. and then, kids from the families who hosted them in Vermont, came to Mississippi. Apparently the kids are all still in touch. Delta kids were surprised there’s no paddling in Vermont schools and said classes were much more casual in Vermont, including one classroom that had bean bags instead of chairs!! That really shocked the Mississippi kids.
By 4 p.m., I was pretty beat; it was more than 90 degrees; and I still had to drive to Memphis. It’s a lot to absorb and these notes are just the tip of the iceberg of what I am seeing and trying to comprehend.
Best
I’m back in the bay area … Survived my week… no New York Times. No chai lattes. No Fed Ex drop-off locations.
Fern
Mississippi May 4, 2012: Next day in Dixie
From Greenwood to Indianola to Greenville
But first a few things I forgot from yesterday:
I brought copies of the piece we had done about Southern Echo in 2004. Most had gotten copies when it was published. But they all looked at the photos again and told me what had happened to each and every person pictured in those 20 pages. Good news and bad news. Some of the young people had gone to college. Some were married. Some were dead. And the hardest story for me was what had happened to an extended family of 16 people (who I remember vividly) living in a rusted broken down trailer with fly paper hanging everywhere. Just one month ago lightning hit a tree near the trailer and it fell on the trailer, splitting it in half and killing one of the young girls. (She was about 4 when I was there in 2004 so she was 12.) The family moved to a trailer a block away after the accident.
Ok on Thursday morning I left the shangrila of the Alluvian Hotel and headed to Indianola about 40 miles away. Population about 12,000, home to B B king museum (and Club Ebony which has historic roots as place he sang). My hosts were not fans of the museum which was developed by the Chamber (White-dominated) as a tourist draw.
My meetings in Indianola were once again intense, complicated, and full of spirit amid obviously challenging situations. After the meeting Betty Petty drove me around to help put things in context –the 99.9 % Black public schools (in pretty miserable condition complete with barbed wire everywhere) and the nearly 100 percent white “academies” or private schools. The areas of town where whites live and the area where blacks live. The bayous. The all-Black cemetery. The all-White cemetery. The area (all-White) where BB king asked to have a house built in exchange for agreeing to lend his name to the museum. The street the chamber offered BB a place to build his house and (no surprise) it was in the Black section of town. Apparently he comes to town every July and he just stays in a motel.
As Betty and I drove through the White neighborhoods it was difficult not to notice confederate flags — usually flying proudly next to US flags. By the way, corporal punishment is still prevalent in schools and every teacher has a paddle.
Then I drove to Greenville to a tiny organization that has (for its office) a desk in a barber shop!! I loved it. A little haircutting… A little local politics. The barber is the brother of the E.D. of the organization. The E.D. is quite a talker. I think I only asked one question and she took it from there for about 90 minutes.
The drive from Indianola to Greenville is on a two lane road going thru farmland. Cotton gins along the way and almost no buildings until you approach the town –and then it’s fast food city. I actually missed lunch completely because I thought I’d find an alternative. I finally came upon a BBQ but I would have either had to sit outside (90 degrees and equal humidity) or sit in the car with the engine and air running and drip hot sauce all over. So lunch never happened.
After my meetings I met up with the father of one of my ASU PhD students (who grew up in the Delta). It was an interesting conversation and a different perspective about the Delta (also an African American perspective– just different), which in some ways flips part of the issue to class. The father has a good job (though not college educated) and the family includes many professionals. When I asked the father if he ever thought his son and/or his other children would come back to Mississippi, his answer was quick and direct: “only for a Mississippi minute” (which although the pace was slow I took to mean “not in my lifetime.” Still the father felt growing up in Greenville was a good experience and that the schools were what you made of them.
Conversations with my interviewees about education and expectations always came around to kids coming back to the Delta and the importance of family in the Delta. Betty told me her organization raised funds to take a group of teens to Chicago and that when they came back, they all wanted to move to Chicago. Which wasn’t a surprise but did prompt lots of discussion.
Finally, after a really long and intense day I headed back to Greenwood arriving just before dark with about 30 minutes to see the town where “The Help” was filmed. I opted to try Delta Bistro (which is where I began this note) for dinner having already had dinner at Giardinos at the alluvian the night before.
I naturally ended the evening with emails, prep for Friday, and figuring out what info I still needed to get.
Ok. More tomorrow
Fern
Hi y’all,
Well I’ve never sent travelogues when moving about within the US. But these past days (and actually past weeks) it’s been more like being in a foreign country. So it seems appropriate to chronicle appropriately.
I was traveling along the Texas border a week ago but now I’m deep in Mississippi traveling along the Delta. I’m working on a project that involves a broad array of totally amazing organizations that are organizing extremely impoverished communities (or low wealth communities, as they refer to themselves — indicating that they may be poor financially but strong in other ways) to build a broader movement toward social change. They are funded – in part- through the marguerite Casey foundation, our client
Anyway. I arrived Tuesday in Jackson ms. And began what would be a series of very long, complicated, and fascinating interviews. And a memorable drive up the delta terminating in Memphis At the moment as I write to you I’m devouring a plate of (what else?) fried green tomatoes with “comeback sauce” and waiting for my blackened catfish.
Now I just need to get it off my chest that I’m tired of being called ma’am and Miss Fern. Ok. No more on that. The latter term is used by everyone.
Oh. You should know I’ve been to these parts a few times before. Twice in 2004 for a similar project and previously on a driving trip throught the antebellum south with a detour to tutwiler.
Following a fascinating 4 hour session with the co-founders of Southern Echo and becoming totally immersed in their very impressive organizing, community building, and organizational building model I headed to Lexington MS in a total downpour complete with lightning and thunder and my total fear that I’d confront a tornado. (Was on the phone while driving in this awful weather, and Mike suggested that if I see a funnel cloud I should get under an overpass. Problem is there aren’t any overpasses. Someone at my office said if I see a tornado I need to get into a basement. First: houses are few and far between. Second: they don’t build basements here).
Southern Echo was founded about 25 years ago with the robust goal of ending racism in Mississippi They work throughout the delta with African American families and communities … And while they have a long way to go to accomplish that ambitious goal, they can cite numerous victories (but many more challenges as they attempt to navigate school district politics, redistricting, voting rights, and other critical issues). Anyway I had met the executive director many times but this was my first meeting with the co founder — who turned out to be white, a former SNCC activist from Harvard—via Brooklyn!! So after some fun conversations about our shared heritage we moved in to more important stuff.
Ok. No tornado and finally made it (about an hour late) to Lexington. Here, I’m meeting with a bunch of activists–some of whom I met years ago and was anxious to get caught up.
Lexington has a population of about 2,000 people. Unemployment is recorded as 35 % but it’s probably well over 50 %. My meeting place was a tiny house converted into small offices for the nonprofit Nollies. The walk from my rental car (with West Virginia license plates) was on a slippery mud path. (not good with sandals).
Won’t go into detail on meetings but it was great to reconnect with these folks but simultaneously depressing to hear their continuing struggles. One of the people at Nollies was Diana Freelon Foster who I met in Grenada Mississippi in 2004 soon after she had been elected as the first female and first African American mayor of the 15,000 population town. Diana was one of the students who integrated the all-white high school in 1966 and was beaten on the first day. I remembered her vividly from 2004 — proud of the coalition she had built and of her ambitious agenda as mayor and of the African American community which gained hope and experience thru her victory.
It was bittersweet to hear Diana explain that after just 18 months there was some kind of annexation and redistricting which led to a new election with different voters and she lost her coveted seat. She now runs a poorly funded nonprofit. And she explained how demoralized her constituents were. Many were newly engaged residents who were buoyed by the victory and now feel cheated and uninterested in remaining involved. But for Diana it’s just “on to the next” fight.
I left Nollies and headed to Greenwood (about 8 pm by now) to a charming oasis called the Alluvian hotel. Which may be a politically incorrect place to stay. When I was in this area in 2004 I stayed at the usual highway motels (pretty depressing) but one night I heard about a special restaurant in Greenwood and drove 25 miles for dinner. While there, I noticed a small hotel adjacent to the restaurant and was told the local economic development story: A guy from Greenwood married into one of the wealthiest families in town, became an architect, and was designing homes for wealthy people. He couldn’t find really really high-end stoves for the houses and so he designed one. Then he realized other home chefs wanted this item so he developed the Viking line of stoves and appliances. He put the factory in Greenwood. Then he opened cooking school, to teach people how to use the Viking stoves and for high-end cooking. Then he created a restaurant. He renovated old buildings downtown for these functions and then created a first-class hotel. So that’s where I rested my little head on Wednesday night. Tuesday I was at your basic chain hotel except that the band in the lobby was singing Johnny Cash “Going to Jackson” and I was right there… in Jackson.
Fading. Will describe next day when I take a break. The days have been incredibly long and the sessions very intense.
Fern
Ps. I’m having lots of language problems harder than foreign country.
FRANCE February 2012: Part 2
Bonsoir
Very long and busy days…In fact, it’s now after midnight on Thursday and when I finish this note I’m headed to bed (have to be up at 5 am to catch train to Nice to fly back to London — long story).
Wow – where to start.
We’ve had several wonderful days exploring Provence towns, and Avignon itself. And I’ve been leading a total double life: from 9am until 6pm driving around, visiting medieval towns within a 40 mile radius of Avignon; from 6pm until dinner and then from dinner until about 2 am catching up with the office, and doing my share of projects.. So I feel as if I’ve been gone about a month! I’ll skip the work details and just focus on Provence and our experiences.
For those who have been asking, we never did move into the house in Vaison. We’ve stayed here at the Cloitre Saint Louis in our little loft rooms and it was probably the right decision. The frozen pipes did get fixed, but we had to make some decisions or lose the good rate we had at the hotel and risk not having a room at all. So, that was what we did.
Over the past days we visited Gordes, Vaison, Cairanne, Sablet, Seguret, Orange, and others.. We’ve had great dinners, good wine, good conversation.. and some funny (and also some annoying) experiences. I’ve been doing the driving and it’s been fun, especially since Carol is a good navigator! I had actually been to most of the towns we visited in the past, but it was fun to see them again (and feel like I knew my way around a bit) and also to see them in the winter without any tourists… Ah, no tourists.. but the tourists have been replaced by freezing cold, and today a real mistral, with winds howling through the night at 70mph. It’s been really, really, really cold.. traces of snow are along the roads and fountains are frozen.. Once the sun comes out, it’s really beautiful with crisp, clean shadows.. and it even feels tolerable (in fact today was about 9 degrees — a true heat spell), but the wind is the killer.
That said, we’ve been real troopers and haven’t let the cold keep us down!
We managed to reach the famous market in Vaison just as it was closing (not sure how that happened); we almost couldn’t get our car out of a parking lot because the toll machine failed and it just wouldn’t register that we paid (wound up having two technicians come to try to help without success, and finally someone had to escort us to our car and manually open the parking lot gate; finding hats has become a bit of an obsession, but alas neither of us is returning with a warm hat; and so it goes.
We drove to Vaison and we think we found the house that we were going to stay in, which looked wonderful. But in some ways staying in Vaison would have been difficult (even had the pipes not frozen). The beautiful medieval town is really shuttered closed in February — the hotels were closed; no restaurants were open; nearly all shops were closed for the season; and we didn’t see a single person walking around. We would have had to rely completely on the “new” part of Vaison and that would have made things hard. For some reason, Vaison was more shuttered than any of the other towns we stopped in. The others had shops that were open, restaurants were functioning.. and people were clearly going about their business in spite of the cold. Even Cairanne (where Mike’s brother has a house) which is much smaller than Vaison, was more alive — restaurant open, shop open, etc.
But, I think the most memorable town of all was Gordes… about 40 km east of Avignon (which Mike and I visited more than 30 years ago, because I wanted to see the then-recently opened Vasarely Museum) …
It’s a spectacular town rising above the village area of Luberon. The village of Gordes is located on a giant calcareous rock that dominates the valley. Gordes is home to a castle that was rebuilt in the early 1500s.. and a Romanesque Abby which we visited (and which is completely surrounded by fields of lavender (of course not really evident at the moment in the freezing cold) and the Village of the Bories… ancient houses made only of stone… The huts were built using locally extracted, 10 to 15 cm-thick, pieces of limestone. While they were built as early as the 7th Century and were inhabited as recently as the late 1800s. We also
We’ve also pretty much walked the entire interior of the ramparts of Avignon.. today (Thursday).. through the streets and squares of the medieval ville historique (where the hotel is located). .. strolling through and around the palais, through the narrow, winding streets, in and out of shops (naturally!), stopping for an occasional chocolate, and ending up at the Hotel Mirande (a former residence from the 15th century meticulously restored and maintained) for high tea. We stumbled on a little shop called George.. sort of like a little atelier… Carol got a great coat (perfect for LA?!) and I got a sharp vest. We both got broches (“for humanity” as George explained — I think they are made in a developing country and the proceeds go back and the shops that sell these things don’t take any money). Anyway, the clothing was all handmade (by George) and quite unique (and importantly, quite inexpensive for France).
For the foodies among you, we’ve had all our dinners here in Avignon, but lunches en route to the various towns. The hotel restaurant at the Cloitre was actually quite good the second try (maybe it had to do with the selection). We ate at a restaurant called 83 Vernet and another one called Numero 75 (They seem to have a think about naming restaurants with numbers.) Both were on the high on the hip scale, small, with limited menus that changed nightly — but quite good — sort of nouvelle French (and maybe with a touch of Asian). We also had a great pizza and salad in a cute little cafe in Gordes, Casa Rosario, just off the main square (and were served by an adorable young French guy who managed to tell me — when I mentioned that I had been to Gordes 30 years before — that he wasn’t yet born at that time).
Tomorrow morning — at the crack of dawn — we are taking the TGV from Avignon to Nice, where we will get a plane back to London (where Fed Exes await with work from the office, and where I’ll settle into a bit of a routine and prep for Monday’s meetings. The decision to take this rather circuitous route to London was the result of getting to London a day early. It all started with an effort to stop in Paris (to have lunch with my god daughter) en route to London. To make this happen, we went to the train station in Avignon — and discovered that to change just the time of the ticket (keep day the same) would add about $100 to our tickets; to change the day — which is what we really wanted, so that we could add a day to London and shorten the France part by a day — would add about $400 to each of our tickets. So, after much searching, we found a flight from Nice to London that cost less than the train tickets we had purchased. This would get us to London a day earlier but would not enable us to stop in Paris. (So, now a reason for another trip?) We figured we’d drive to Nice (which of course is in the total opposite direction of where we are headed) — a 3 or 3.5 hour drive. A few hours after making this decision, I began to think that after only 4 hours sleep, a three hour drive didn’t sound so great and looked into trains.
The Avignon to Nice train seemed like a good option. So I’m signing off now to get a few hours sleep before taking the train.
Bonsoir
Fern
PS –Didn’t get to push “send” last night… so now I’m back in London..after taking train from Avignon to Nice and then taxi to Nice Airport and flight to London/Heathrow (couldn’t get anything to London City Airport) and then train to Paddington and taxi to hotel.. Piece of Cake!!
FRANCE February 2012: Part 1
Greetings from Avignon – February 13, 2012
For those who didn’t know it, I had been planning a short trip to Provence which happily was coinciding with a project the office is doing that involves a program in London.
Anyway, I arrived early in London and settled into a great little hotel in East London (Hotel Zetter, where I’ve stayed before) — the new hip section of town where everything is gentrifying so fast it’s hard to keep track. As planned, Carol (a long time friend from LA) met me later that day. My early arrival was great because I brought a lot of work with me and I didn’t finish as much as I thought I would on the plane trip over. Once Carol arrived we took a stroll for a few hours. London was cold (about 40 F) and overcast, but ok and bearable.
Met up with Mike’s niece and boyfriend for a great dinner near the hotel (Modern Pantry)… and then started at 6 am (today) to head to St. Pancras to catch the Eurostar and then change to TGV to Avignon where we were to pick up a car and head to Vaison where we would stay for a few days before heading back to London (and my meetings).
There’s a lot of construction going on everywhere in London — some due to the Olympics.
Anyway, even at 6 am there was a lot of traffic, but we made it to the station and on to Paris’ Gare du Nord where we exited and had to take a taxi to Gare du Lyon to catch the connecting train to Avignon (not really quite so connecting given that the two stations are about 10 kilometers apart). We had opted for business class seats on Eurostar which was good, because we got fed a really nice breakfast and could relax. But the Eurostar was about 30 minutes late, making the connection to the other train a bit tricky. We got to the other station (Gare de Lyon) with about 30 seconds to spare and were panting as we ran with the bags..
The trip from Paris to Avignon was pleasant, but we were really surprised to see all the snow on the ground during the entire distance of the trip. As the train pulled out of the station in Paris, I got an email from the woman who owns the house we would be staying in Vaison… She wanted to alert us to the fact that the pipes froze and so there was no water at the house and we couldn’t stay there. It was too late to just toss it all and head for a nice hotel in Paris.. .The train goes direct to Avignon — no stops. On the train I made good use of my global iPhone service.. looking up potential hotels in Avignon. We considered not picking up the rental car, but then realized we’d be lost since we really no longer had a destination.
As we left the station to get to the rental car place we realized just how cold it was… much colder in Avignon than in either London or Paris.. about 28 F and then 40 mph winds.. definitely not the tourist season. We picked up the Peugot, attempted to figure out the GPS system (and also how to get the gear shift out of Park) and headed to the Centre Ville to get some lunch.. It was about 2:45 by now.. we navigated ourselves to the center of town fairly well — into the ramparts through one of the many “doors”.. but parking was a challenge. Eventually we headed towards Les Halles which had a garage above (hidden quite well by a “growing wall”.. The Peugot was one of the larger cars so we (I’m the designated driver) had to do a lot of maneuvering.. I had been in Avignon about two years ago so I remembered that there were many restaurants from which to choose. What I had forgotten was that 3:00 is really the cut off for lunch in France and they are pretty persnickety about that timing. So we wound up with the equivalent of French fast food on the main square and I will make the following pronouncement — It is possible to get bad food in France.
Anyway, we are now comfortably situated in the Hotel Cloitre Saint Louis – which is a 16th century building that was originally a Jesuit seminary (I think they lived pretty well!), and was later a military hospital. It was restored and modernized and turned into a hotel about 20 years ago. It’s a pretty pricey place in normal days, but having this freezing cold weather we were able to cut a really good deal on rooms..but they also put us into rooms on the top “garret” level… sort of like living in a wonderfully charming loft space.. in the eaves of the building. To get to our rooms (there are 4 like this)… you take the elevator to the top floor of one side of the building.. and then midway on the floor you walk through some arches and climb a flight of stairs..and then there are doors.. When you open each of these four doors there’s another flight of stairs (with a landing and turn)… and then you’re in the room. It’s totally great with a big circle window that looks out on the courtyard… bathroom is on the lower level.. shower on the upper level. All modern amenities and very design-y. Apparently the modernization was done by Jean Nouvel, the Pritzker award winning architect who designed the Arab World Center in Paris and the Torre Agbar in Barcelona and the Musee du Quai Branly in Paris.. So we sort of lucked out in spite of all the problems… We are likely to stay here in Avignon through tomorrow night, and then — depending on the situation in Vaison — decide what to do for the next few days. Weather prediction is not good. Coldest, snowiest, windiest winter in decades.
OK.. I have to get back to work; still have deadlines.
Bon Soir…
Fern
TUNISIA January 1 2012: Americans in Tunisia — Day 12
Happy New Year!
We’re hours away from leaving Tunisia.
Spent a somewhat leisurely day here in Sidi Bou Said, soaking up the incredible views and this picture-postcard hillside town that rambles up from the Mediterranean Sea — with extremely narrow and curving streets (several of which are pedestrian only, and many of which should be pedestrian only since it’s next to impossible for cars to make any of the curves necessary to go up the hills. It must be beautiful when the sun is shining.. we had only moments of sun; most of the time it was overcast — but did not rain.
But then again if you come when the sun is shining in the non-winter months I imagine it’s a real tourist trap. At this time of the year, it’s quiet and easy to just meander. Still, we have seen more tourists here than in any other place we’ve visited. And still, no Americans. The French are all over as are Italians and Germans… and there are Tunisian tourists, too.
Last night’s New Years Eve was nice. We went to Dar Zazrouk — just across from Dar Said (where we are staying). It was very elegant and the crowd appeared to be a mix of Tunisians and Italians with maybe one or two tables of French families. Food was beautifully presented, but a bit disappointing as it wasn’t the best we’ve had here in Tunisia and it wasn’t at all inventive. Frankly, that’s always the problem with New Years. I suppose most restaurants think doing a special fixed meal makes sense, but it’s never as good as ordering from a menu (in my humble opinion). So several fish dishes as starters — they were good: a mixed fish appetizer with jumbo shrimp, caviar, some local fish, and salmon.. followed by a shrimp bisque, followed by sea bass with two sauces (one cream, the other ?) ..and then some other fish that came inside a pastry rosette, and then lamb with vegetables.. and then chocolate mousse and platters of assorted Tunisian sweets and cookies. Hats and masks at midnight, a Tunisian three-piece traditional band…lots of wine.. and thus we toasted in and welcomed 2012 — which we all hope will be a lot better than 2011.
Today was leisurely — no carpet purchased (for those of you taking bets).. Had some cheese and fruit out on the patio.. and focused on work.. Been doing a bit each day, but today seemed like the time to transition back to what we’ll each be facing as soon as we hit the ground on Tuesday.. So why not get started?
We’re packing now (since we have a taxi picking us up at 3:45 a.m.!!!)..and then we’re off for dinner at Vieux Temps — a bit down the road with a great view of the sea. Tomorrow at the crack of dawn we head to London (via connection in Rome).. for one night and then on Tuesday — back to California.
It’s been a good trip; lots of experiences — many that I forgot to include in my daily reports.
I’d definitely recommend Tunisia. The people are great, there’s so much history, it’s safe, and it’s unique… I think I expected it to be more like Morocco than it is.. It’s a proud people, especially at this moment. There’s so much we didn’t get to see.. So, more trips in the future.
Best for 2012 —
Fern
TUNISIA December 31, 2011: Americans in Tunisia — Day 11 (No Carpet)
Bonne Annee from Sidi Bou Said
Finally! We are at Dar Said — which is exquisite. A complex of about 20 “suites” with about three or four suites sharing a little entry court. We have a view of the Mediterranean, a canopied bed, a charming sitting room (that also looks to the sea). Simple decor, tasteful — and thus far, everything works!
This morning while still at the Kairouan hotel, it was a little comical as the shower curtain and rod fell from the wall (while I was in the shower) taking the wall mounted soap dish with it, and the wall-mounted lampshade turned upside down—all on its own. Breakfast at the hotel was buffet style; fortunately they had yogurt, since much of the other stuff looked like it was left over from last night’s dinner buffet. The Kasbah Hotel (the one in Kairouan) had very dim lighting and in some areas of the public spaces, there was no lighting all. This reminded us of a lot of hotels we stayed at in the old Soviet Union in the 1970s. Then and now, I think it’s obvious that these countries do so much better when they encourage small hotels that can really show off the culture and the hospitality of the people. They don’t do well with large 100+-room wanna-be-Hiltons that require a different kind of maintenance, expense to operate (especially when they are nearly empty) and staffing and management style. It’s too bad these hotels feel the need to create these more American and/or European-style places, because invariably they can’t work… and probably everyone is frustrated: guests as well as staff.
Before we left Kairouan, we strolled through the medina to the Grand Mosque (every city in Tunisia has its own “grand mosque”) but this one is the oldest Muslim place of worship in Africa and is commonly referred to as the fourth holiest site in Islam (after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem). We were the only ones there… Strolled around the town and eventually headed back to the hotel to pack up and then drive to the Tunis Airport to drop off the car (and get a taxi to take us to Sidi Bou Said — where we felt we didn’t need a car, since the town is supposed to be very walkable..) Also, in this way, we can take a taxi to the Tunis Airport for a very very very early flight from Tunis to London on Monday morning to meet up with Mike’s niece Julia and boyfriend for lunch… and then we’re off —back to the US.
The drive from Kairouan to Tunis was fine, except that it rained much of the time making driving just a wee bit more precarious — but the road from Kairouan to Tunis (a toll road costing about $2) is good, so all went well. Found the airport just fine.. but then figuring out the rental car return was a bit more complicated. Along the way to the airport, my phone rang and it was the Europcar guy.. asking where the car was. Apparently they seemed to think it would come back at a particular time of day (same time as when we picked it up a week prior). We explained that we were on the way and that seemed OK… but then I asked (in bad French) where we should bring the car once we get to the airport. He said to go to “P”arking and then to Avis and leave it at Avis. Seemed a bit odd to leave the car with a competitor, but oh well. We got to the airport, found the parking, found Avis and “double parked” because there weren’t any spots. Decided to call the Europcar guy, because now we didn’t know where to leave the keys. The guy said to wait with the car, he would come to us soon… which he did (by car)… He checked the car (mostly to see if the spare tire was still there), and then said we needed to go inside the airport to his “office” to “settle the contract.” We said we had to go to Sidi Bou Said and he said he could take us. It was raining; he drove off (I assume to park his own car somewhere); and we started to head to the airport building– walking and dragging/wheeling our bags in the rain.
I thought this was crazy. He already had our credit card number; he’d already checked the car; why would we need to go to the office? Mostly, I didn’t want to go inside the airport with our bags because as you approach the door of the airport you start a preliminary screening with an x-ray machine and you have to lift up all your bags. You don’t need to take shoes off or put cameras on the belt… but all suitcases go on, etc. So I said we should just take a taxi and leave it all alone. Mike thought we should “do as we were told.” Anyway, we headed to the taxi stand (where we were ceremoniously surrounded by about 7 “helpers” who all wanted to help us “select” a “really good taxi.” We hopped in the first one and got to Sidi Bou Said, which even in the rain is very special. We are hoping it clears up tomorrow and we have some sun. We fully expected the Europcar guy to search for us or at the very least to call us (since he has my cell phone number). But we haven’t heard anything. We’ll see what the Europcar charge looks like on the Visa bill.
Just got back from strolling Sidi Bou Said — which is like a picture postcard.. with all buildings in the requisite white with blue trim…It’s been raining, at times hard, so we finally gave up and headed to our little home away from home — where we will celebrate the new year (and my birthday) tonight. We’re hoping for sun tomorrow — our last day in Tunisia, and our one day to really see this charming town. Will let you know how everything goes tomorrow. (We initially thought we’d eat in one of the local restaurants — of course Dar Said’s restaurant is local too, but I mean — in the town — but given the rain we’ve opted to eat here at the Dar… which we’re thinking should be quite wonderful given how well they’ve renovated and maintained the consistency of the hotel section. The restaurant is apparently across the way..
Oh — one last note regarding carpets: We were hounded everywhere to “just look” at the carpets, but resisted. Mike wound up buying the one we have on our living room floor in Oakland two years ago when we were in Konya, Turkey — and he bought a smaller one (also in the Oakland house) on our very first trip to Istanbul in the ’80s. So, it’s big news that we did NOT purchase a carpet anywhere in Tunisia. It’s tempting; many are quite spectacular… and it’s hard to resist the smooth talking salesmen and those who have “brothers” who can give us a good deal. The guy we bought the carpet from in Konya two years ago was so smooth it was scary.
More tomorrow.
Happy New Year
Kul ‘am wa antum bikhair (in Arabic)
Bonne Annee
Fern
Fern's Travel Notes 