Apr 2007

I was right! Beautiful sunshine, a case full of silk frocks and flip flops and nowhere to go 'cept into a car...farewell breakfast on top of our hotel in Nice:

Lucas: At last we set off on our journey to Avignon we stayed in the Hotel Cloister and Dad says: “dad wanted to mum to dress up as a nun but she would have none of it” then that night we ordered a meal from room service that was tasty! Next day on the “Pont d’Avignon” we went to the end and we couldn’t get to the other side because the bridge was broken! They gave up after about 50 years because they kept getting invaded and also it was a bit difficult to build. So here we are watching the storm coming towards us:

So, this is us again:

And now at last we set off in the hired car and goodbye to Avignon then went on our everlasting trip to our house in Limeuil, this is our first day here where we enjoy occupying ourselves [note: he’s now translating direct from the original Latin] making bow and arrows and swords out of string and sticks then now I’m here typing on mum’s laptop these very words about our Holiday!

Theo: Avignon has walls all the way round the town, old walls that you can walk on and I read the map again as usual because I’m the guide.

In the car, all day yesterday, Lucas was mad all the way through the journey, especially the last hour when his face was purpled red. He called us all twerps (but this was better than he normally says). Mum and Dad were laughing, which made him madder. Now I am in the garden with my bow and arrow pretending 2 be robin hood; I grappled up the wall and shot him with my arrow - he’s mad with me and I’m about 2 run up a tree...sorry I’ve gotta gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…

Tony: First visit to Provence and loved it. Hired (inadvertently) a car strangely called a Nissan - Notte and after 550km we understood why.
The plane trees which line the RN’s and the city streets and squares work beautifully with the small scale of the vineyards and fields and with the Provencal stone and architecture. To Avignon: the hotel was in a C16 monastery with a strange modern extension by Jean Nouvel. Avignon’s centre historique is a perfect piece of urbanism which demonstrates how a city can work within preserved city walls. Highlight of the day was the flash hail storm which swept at least 2" of water into the town and (yup, you guessed) made the drains rise magically and with all the familiar pomp and circumstance of this tour..

T: Deborah has bought much of the families’ summer collection from the exclusive couturier – Monoprix - and the children and I have most fashionable sous-vetements. [Long lost tradition of washing small boys’ smalls in bath and stuffing over radiators remains long lost]. Eight hour journey to Limeuil – sworn to return next time in a Porsche even if we have to saw down the children’s legs.

Me: The sun shone brightly on our last seconds in Nice, as we prepared to venture along the cote d’azur. My oh my, did I have fantasies about skinny dipping off various hot rocks, Campari, brown skin and singing cicadas [‘nuff, ‘nuff]. However, the strange conclusion I came to was that putting 2 children and moi in a car (= confined and private space) for the first time on this venture, means time and place for major tantrums. Somehow, and interestingly, travel by train has meant no excuse for bad behaviour as all is public. Can this insight be extended to any meaningful social comment? Was life more civilised when wholly lived in public? Back to travel: Funky hotel, our extension, built 1994, missed out on finishes to bathroom – concept good, execution poor. The tour has been interesting in terms of observing (totally professionally, y’all hear) the levels of service and care offered through the trip. Hating to bitch, and with the exception of big bland efficient hotel in Nice, hotel accommodation has been poor in the extreme, ranging from sheer madness and badness (ripped sheets and bed bugs in Paris) to laziness (lack of information, soap and loo paper in Florence) to smelliness (trapped water under bath in Avignon, don’t get me started on Florence again) to blankets (blankets! Some brown! Some pink!) throughout. Lucky I have my family to keep me warm....

Theo: today I saw the Mediterranean for the first time; it looked like a Cartoon or a film because it had palm trees and beaches in front. In Florence in a art gallery called Cézanne we had head phones I tried all the numbers on it and it went up to 44 different paintings with commentaries. In 2 days time we are going to Dordogne and hopefully getting the internet!

OK: Memories of Nice biscuits when small and various post-impressionists being bohemian. A good city but underdone by the rain, rain, rain. And closure of galleries for repair (that 35 hour week thing again? Surely not all can have crumbled at the same time?). Thus, we trog to the Musee des Beaux-Arts, on the back of a poem and a prayer, hoping for something amazing and - finding the biggest load of kitsche (and an amusing plaster cast of The Kiss, being snapped and papped) - enjoyed just a few good post-impressionists and some big breasted 18th saints (T's flesh for the day). So, in view of the rain, St. Dufy gives you the best impression of the view from our hotel:

Waking on Sunday, I once again chastised T for not purchasing that invaluable Leonardo de Vinci umbrella when in Rome; honestly - would have been best friend all the way. Imagine, therefore, schadenfreud when T found umbrella shop open this Sunday am in the flower market. Lucas and Caillebotte battled against the rain all morning:

Tony: Dufy or not Dufy, that is the question. In Nice, bien sur and a reminder of sunshine. Lunch was magnificent. The torteau died with a smile on its face [what's he eating tortoises for eh?] and was followed by Lorenzo the magnificent Lobster swimming in saffron bouillabaise with squid, bream, and soft shelled crabs that the waiter had to explain how (and why) to eat. The Sancerre was cold and cutting. Then to the beach for the five minutes of blue that Englishmen call the summer. Suddenly all Nice was out and about, lounging on deathly cold pebbles and sighing at the sea. The concert was disappointing. Much as we like a good requiem, this one had a death wish. [Well, it needs a big organ, honey].
Lucas:Well, when we went to The "Hotel Meridien"there was a TV in our room. Dad ordered room service to bring up bottle of wine, next at 4:00pm dad wanted to watch a concert, we did but when it finished we all thought it was a load of crap! I was about to write bollox but the spell check didn’t tell me how to write, that is why we hurried home quickly to write how crap the concert was!

But I really, trully think this is summer on the way. Damn the brolly...