Calanque-ing and Canyon-ing on Weekends

We were invited to join a family at Jorgie's school to their "cabanon" aka, a rustic cabin down on the Sormiou calanque. If you don't know what a calanque is, then you will need to do a l'il research to an earlier blog post of last month....ok, now...in the states, I always laugh when someone says they have a "cabin" or a "cottage" and when you arrive you realize it is much better equipped than your full time home and you are probably underdressed.  Well, had I known we were going to a "cabanon" I would have worn footwear for rock climbing and packed our contribution to brunch in Tupperware, not a glass pie pan to be heaved up and over rocks for the 2 miles from the gate where security mandated we park and walk. Though not at all prepared, IT WAS GORGEOUS! And, our host was unreachable (no wifi, no electricity, running water) and late. We had no idea where to go beyond down to the sea. 

ahhhhhh, this view was startling.....on one side the center of the rocky cliffs open up to reveal the dense civilization of Marseille, the other side revealed the Mediterranean off of the Sormiou Calanque. I audibly gasped when the scene spread out before me...cant prove that, no one heard me, you'll just have to believe….

Heading down to Sormiou, outside of Marseille

Found their weekend cabanon, just beyond this tiny port, it was the LAST house before the sauvage coast! Thrilling!

The cabanon, surrounded with this terrain.....it is crumbly limestone and ancient sandy soil with tons of prickly pear cactus, loaded with their thorny magenta fruit,  scrubby indigenous thyme, rosemary, lavender, sage and others. All of these scents, including the air, sea, trees, and other wafting smells are known as the smell of the "garrigue". It is why the south of France smells the way it does, and it is a thing that will always stay with me.

Inside Frederic, Claudia and Lilly's cabanon, built in 1906 by his great grandfather. they would travel by donkey with building supplies, water, etc. Now a very rudimentary pump from the cistern brings up water.

Prepared to take in the view in his own way, Frank opened his pochade box and painted this gem.
(Margi Rosenthal, is this one for you???) There is a pic of me taking in the view my way....eyes shut, mouth open drooling, with a gorgeous turquoise sea backdrop.

Day Trip...The Grand Canyon of France

Eye-scrubbingly adorable mountain town, "Moustiers-Ste-Marie" which is the gateway to the  Gorges du Verdon...there were waterfalls and mossy slopes and mountain goats and a 16th century cathedral, small streets of endless outdoor cafes, pottery tradition of Faience.... and on the OTHER end of the charm, the first public WC toilettes I've seen this trip which was a hole in the floor with squatting footpads....

Pedal boating on the Lac de Ste. Croix through the gorges. BTW, if you have the chance to pedal boat, one hour is sufficient....my quads were screaming!

Blown away by the scene from above....endless canyon and rocky limestone walls.

This week, we had a special guest chef in our home! Our friend Salam Al-Rawi (from Westville's Rawa) dropped by in his jaw dropping 1964 Caddy that he had restored in Lebanon!.....He has spent the last month driving it through Turkey, Italy, Greece, and into France. After having some minor mechanical stuff mended in Avignon, he piloted that beauty up our dead end street and stayed overnight, but not until we got busy in the kitchen....we fused Chinese rice noodles with provencal grilled zukes, lots of turmeric and other ingredients (that stained my "new" old damask linens from the Acco Decco in Aix-en-Provence, c'est dommage).

 Au revoir Salam, it was great seeing you here, even though you think my romantic notion of  "Garrigue" is bullshit!