French la Vie

Views Throughout the Day of Florence

Photo by Sacha

 

Florence isn't big, but there is more to see in an inch then there is to see in most larger cities. Modern to medieval within a heartbeat. No matter where you look there is something to see, experience, feel and taste.

Sacha was the named photographer in our group, the few times I took the camera I knew I had to surrender it, otherwise it would have been glued to my face and I would have missed experiencing Florence with my family. 

 

Small family style restaurants not to miss:

The legendary Trattoria da Mario, a lively family-run place that serves good, well-priced Tuscan food for sixty years. Only open at lunch, drawing a crowd as they don't take reservations. Chelsea's boss told her about the place. 2 via Rosina,

trattoria-mario.com.  

 

 A place that we missed that I regret is Teatro del Sale... I guess that means we have to go back. I read about it in the Guardian:

"This has to be both the best deal and most original place to eat in Florence. It was created by flamboyant chef Fabio Picchi and his actress wife, Maria Cassi, and you pay €5 to join this artistic club, open from Tuesday to Saturday for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with a live show at night. A tempting buffet is laid out, then the chef shouts out dishes from the window of his open kitchen and guests line up to be served wonderful creations like pasta with artichokes and red mullet, oven-roasted with herbs and olive oil. The meal spreads over 10 dishes, with wine and coffee included in the price. Dinner costs €10 extra, as the live entertainment is included in the price."
• 18 via de'Macci, +39 55 200 1492, edizioniteatrodelsalecibreofirenze.it.

 

 

 

 

The view from the Jardin de Boboli. 

A painting indeed even in December...

 

 

 

Photo by our friend Christina overlooking Florence.

A rare treat to have us all in one photo without any of us making a face.

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha

Center of Florence.

We visited the Palazzo Davanzati (I have a small video on my Facebook account as well as on Instagram.) which is a medieval home. The Palazzo Davanzati's kitchen was on the top floor... the poor cook. Chelsea saw a copy of an old cookbook and there was a recipe for stuffed figs. We are going to try it next summer.

 

 

Photo by Sacha.

 As it has been said, Florence, is literally an outdoor museum. The streets seem to have as many sculptures as there are people. The finest of grouping is found outside the Palazzo Vecchio in the Loggia dei Lanzi, built in the late 14th century. I couldn't get over how these incredible pieces were standing there in all their glory as if they had been protected. The mastery of history, stone and chisel, canvas and brush, concentration on art as an arrow to the heart.

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

Photo by Sacha and a crystal ball that I found at the brocante... 

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha 

 

One of the pleasure of walking around Florence was a sneak peek to something ahead, or a glimpse of a tower, facade, alcove shrine... It would take a month of Sundays just to see one street in depth, and that is not counting the antique shops, nor the places to eat. Sigh.

 

 

The color was inviting. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha catching me drooling.

 

 

 

 Tuscany dreams unveiled before us.

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

Photo by Sacha Modern Mona Lisa.

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha looking through the window of the museum.

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha, up close of the bridge.

 

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

 

Photo by Sacha

 

 

Jumping for David

Photos of David by Sacha.

 

The man about town (Florence) is David.

And oh what a man.

Young. Well built. I hadn't seen him up close in over thirty years nevertheless my older eyes found him equally as handsome now as they did back then. David has been and is contemporary, a man for all seasons.

 

David is Michelangelo's masterpiece that begun 1501, sculpted marble, it represents the biblical figure of David, who killed Goliath with a stone from his slingshot.

 

 

 

"From Marble to Flesh"

 

Michelangelo was 26 years old when he sculpted David, at that time Michelangelo was the most famous, plus the best paid artist in his day. David took over two years to create, and is one of his most stunning masterpieces.

“It was midnight, May 14th, and the Giant was taken out of the workshop. They even had to tear down the archway, so huge he was. Forty men were pushing the large wooden cart where David stood protected by ropes, sliding it through town on trunks. The Giant eventually got to Signoria Square on June 8th 1504, where it was installed next to the entrance to the Palazzo Vecchio, replacing Donatello’s bronze sculpture of Judith and Holofernes.” Luca Landucci, herbalist and diarist living nearby, wrote down the exceptional event of the transport in his chronicles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 "... No sooner had the Philistine started forward to confront David than David darted out of the lines and ran to meet the Philistine. Putting his hand in his bag, he took out a stone, slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead; the stone penetrated his forehead and he fell face downwards on the ground."   1 Samuel

 

 

 

 

Timeless wonder and awe.

 

 

 

 

 

"Note the watchful eyes with carved eye bulks, pulsing veins on the back of the hands, engorged with tension. Admire the curve of the taut torso, the flexing of the thigh muscles in the right leg." Via the Museum.

 

 

Here we hare hanging with David.

 

Photo Via: My long time friend Christina who has lived in Florence for over twenty years. If you need a tour guide Christina is an official tour guide of Italy, more so is an art historian of renaissance art:

Christina Tour Guide of Florence and beyond

 

 

 

Chelsea:

Jumping for David.

 

 

 

 

 

Sacha:

If David could jump.

 

 

 

French Husband:

David would not be afraid of you.

 

 

 

 

And me in which David would say,

"You call that a jump?"

 

...

 

 

 

Florence for Christmas

 

Florence looking out from the Pont Vecchio on Christmas Eve Morning.

French Husband, Chelsea, Sacha and I drove to Florence to spend the week before Christmas together.

With 62 museums and a man who could spend half the morning looking at one painting... we figured if it rained we would have plenty to do. It never rained. Have your feet ever gone numb from walking? 

We spent five hours in Uffizi museum and it felt like an hour, unbelievable. Have you ever cried in a museum?

It wasn't my first time to Florence, yet it felt different going there with my family.

Over thirty years ago I had my long hair cut and thrown into the river off of the Pont Vecchio.

 

 

 

Michelangelo’s statue of David was originally meant to stand on one of the pedestals near the cupola of the Duomo. But when David was completed it was considered far too beautiful to be hidden away to be out of view.

The Duomo is massive, the statue of David would have looked like a thumbnail, instead he is a massive hunk of splendor.

 

 

 

The Christmas decor was graceful, elegant worthy of Florence's beauty.

 

 

 

We rented an apartment that was an easy ten minute walk from the center.

If you ever need a place to stay let me know and I will send you the address.

 

 

 

 

Oe of the views from Boboli gardens.

 

 

 

 

Sacha taking a photo of Chelsea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After looking at statues we found an empty alcove to do our statue take..

Chelsea or...

Angel Wing in Red.

 

 

 

Sacha waiting for a dove.

 

 

 

 

Oh me giving my feet a break.

 

 

 

French Husband fully dressed impression of David.

 

xoxo

 

 

A Bridge over Reflection: The Day of the Attack

 

The day of the horrific attacks in Paris, Ruth, a good friend of ours Claire, and I were out and about in the very neighborhood where the terrible acts of violence took place.

We had such an incredible time looking in at artists' studios, visiting new and old places, meeting with designers, florists, caters and having taste breaks. We were putting together a package for the French Muse Experience.

The sign on the door read:

"And yes I will have my life sunny side up, thank you."

Yet hours later the sun set, a darkness would take over.

 

 

 

 

Ruth and I later would have dinner not far from the terror that rang around the world. Chelsea and her boyfriend live in the neighborhood, they frequent the places that were attacked.

The gut wrenching feeling that such hatred stole the softness of that tender Autumn night... the laughter, the chatter, the simple act of being happy sharing an evening with family and friends. 

In my mind's eye I see the neighborhood that we spent the entire day wandering about... where are those people now?

 

 

The day full of such graceful autumn light, the hours before where flowers graced un-shuttered windows, 

and our conversations overflowing with creativity and artful expression, where cafes filled with joyous ease... and the Saint Martin Canal lapping the banks while autumn leaves took their first and last swim.

 

 

 

A shop window in the neighborhood.

 

 

 

In the same shop a big bold luscious chandler sparkled overhead.

 

 

 

 

 The tenth gleams with shops/cafes/restaurants with handmade goods, off the beaten track, no big brand names, the owners proudly shared how they work with artists in the area and around.

  

 

 

Just an ordinary day that happened to be on Friday the 13th...

The 10th is unique, diverse, cozy...hip, happening... youthful expression.

Not in my wildest dreams did I think anything bad could happen there, that day. But I suppose that was my innocence, my belief that most things could be healed with love and kindness, forgiveness and gratitude.

I do not want to be guided by fear, no matter how hard it knocks.

 

 

 

Six minutes on foot from the Petit Cambodge...

a flower shop, like many in Paris, singing hymns throughout the seasons with their variety of flowers and greenery.

 

 

 

 

When you walkabout Paris it freely offers at every angle, corner, up, down or sideways interest, intrigue... such undeniable pleasure.

 

 

The day was rich in such discovery, and yet later that would be overshadowed by a sadness the touched the core of many, and I fear opened us to a very different tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

Where questions of humanity and caring, suffering and refugees take front stage on a battle field that only seeks peace and understanding, yet are covered in such dark complexity and vastly different opinions.

But where do we begin? And how will this play out?

 What role will each of us take?

 

 

 

 

A bridge over reflection.

 

Queue this Way

I

do

not

want

to

leave.

The Color of Ireland? What is the Color of your Heart?

 

The music seeps up from the streets, overflows from the feet of those walking along, then travels to the heart.

Music hand in hand with Ireland.

Starts young. The little girl said, "Yeah" to every song the musician sang.

Was it water or straight up gin?

"Whatever," I thought as I bit into some homemade crisps.

 

 

 

 

Local honey smooth golden soft. 

The wool spun

up and through

worn warm,

close to heart,

never far from the source,

strong

but not hard.

Delicious.

 

 

 

Each building a different color.

Wear yours-

be yourself-

be true-

be good.

 

 

 

Wool

Cider

Froth

Knit

Scone

Cream

Green

Song

Babies with rosy cheeks

And the sea and ocean pounding lullabye.

 

 

 

I have walked on grass so soft my feet sank to my bellybutton.

Do the Irish know the color taupe, black, grey or white?

I wore an orange sweater today, French Husband did not know who I was. I threw on Carrie's blue scarf to add to the rainbow punch.

It reminded me thirty years ago on a beach in Spain, I was the only woman with a top. Peer pressure, I took it off.

Red, so red, fried to a crisp. Thought my nipples would fall off.

Wearing an orange sweater is mild by comparison... Oh age softens the toughest cookie.

 

 

 

The music runs as deep as the green.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The facades above

are all on one side of a block. 

That is to say Ireland is colorful.

Every step.

 

 

 

 

Twilight

colorful

9:45pm.

 

 

 

 

Homemade Potatoes Crisps.

Heaven is certainly here.

A bag of warm love.

Never ever in France before lunch

But in Ireland, do what you want and let live.

Freedom rules.

Crisps at 10 am.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh.

My.

God.

 

 

 

 

I honestly believe someone threw a large green patchwork quilt over the land and called it Ireland.

 

 

 

A little black and white in Ireland.

He is the color of my heart.

 

Ireland....

 

Ireland is green.

My friend Carrie says Ireland has over 80 shades of green. 

I believe it.

The last time I came to Ireland it was during July. The sky was never so blue as it was today. It was utterly breathtaking!

 

 

 

 

As we walked along the coast I felt heaven touching earth. A glorious feeling as if Nature was giving me wings.

Soaring above with my feet rooting deeply beneath me.

 

 

 

I had to hold Yann because I felt he wanted to rope, dive, jump, do something crazy. He saw a seal and the seal saw him and well I thought the two of them might become best friends and head north. I grabbed his hand to remind him that we could feel Nature but we could not dive into that blue and green.

 

 

 

Though why not?

Well we know why not.

But on another level why not.

Have you ever felt so alive, so happy, so caught up in the beauty before you that in that moment anything feels possible?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The stone wall along the coast trail.

 

 

 

 

More to come.

 

 

 

Memories of Scones Before I Ever Went to Ireland

 

A Throw Back to 2009... Since I am travelling to Ireland today I thought I would repost something 'Irish'... Scones!

 

School holidays are happening as I type. French Husband and Sacha went skiing. Chelsea came home with more books, binders, and notepads than laundry. She has finals and nothing else matters more than intense studies right now. My broken rib, lack of skiing skills, a daughter who needs a devoted mother to feed her, and my love of silence allowed me the avenue to stay home. I am happy the sun is shining.

I asked Chelsea what she would like to have for lunch, she replied, "Scones."

A flood of memories poured in with that one word... Scones. Don't you love food memories? Oh how they nourish the heart and soul, giving it food for thought without calories. The memory of scones does just that...and we are not even from Scone-Land. Scones, muffins, bagels and cupcakes are not a French thing. Instead Brioche, pain au chocolat, escargot, croissants and pain perdu take their place.

 

 

                                  

 

 

 

During the school holidays, when our children were little, I often made scones for them. More often than not, when we made scones something happened, interrupted us from our scone making-- or caused us to make them in a flash.

It got to the point that if we were going to make scones, we would expect something unexpected to happen. If nothing happened, we would doubt whether the scones would turn out.

 

From my cookbook the SCONE recipe says:

(1995-- School Holiday Scones)

"This morning we made scones for breakfast at lunchtime. While I was making them I was not focused on what I was doing due to the phone ringing, the postman coming to the door, and a friend came over telling us about how they found human ashes in a milk container. (I decided to use yogurt instead of milk for the scones.)

And guess what? The best, flaky, moist on the inside, crisp outer texture scones arrived out of the oven. I discovered the secret ingredient in making scones: Distraction."

Recipe from my friend who is Irish: Mary Kate (Allison's Sister).

 

                              

 

 

 

Scone Recipe

A well buttered baking sheet from the hand's of children

In a bowl (Sacha mixed the ingredients with his plastic sword turned into a spoon.)

• One cup and less than a third of flour,
• 1 teaspoon of sugar,
• a pinch of salt,
• 2 teaspoons of baking powder,
• Half a teaspoon of baking soda.
• Mix the above then add:
• Two tablespoons of cold butter, crumble lightly into the flour mixture.
• Add one egg (room temperature is best)
• and a small container of yogurt (about half of a cup). Fold until blended.

Dust the table with a little flour. Place the dough on it, gently knead and pat out into a circle. Cut the scones using an upside -down, juice glass. Makes 6 or 8 scones.
Preset oven to 375 and bake for 6 to 8 minutes. Turn off oven and let rest for a couple of minutes or so.

 

 

 

 

Serve with butter, strawberry jam, honey, orange marmalade and a bowl of cafe au lait (this is France after all.)

____________________________________________________

 

I hope to have new memories of scones soon!!

What to Do in France? Can You Tell Me?

A place that has been abandoned in Paris in the Marais. 

 

Nearly everyday someone asks me about France and the brocantes or both to the tune of:

Can you tell me what to do in France?

Since my natural tendency leans more towards spontaneous and less on structured details I thought I would take a leap to creating a once and for all blog post with links about things I am often asked about. Then when I hear, "Can you tell me what to do in France?" I can refer them this blog post, instead of writing a long email.

"Duh," I can hear myself say, "Should have done this years ago ding dong."

.   .

V

 

Click on the highlighted words below which will lead to other links.

And please if you have any secrets, suggestions, hints or favorites about France add them to the comment section.

so

Just in case you want to see more of my photos, or want to know how to rent our apartment, or want to lick your computer screen, or encourage me to keep doing what I do, or want to know what to do when you are in France...

 

 

 

If you want you can follow me on 

Facebook

 

 

A bookshop in the Passage Jouffroy, Paris

 

If you love photos, I post daily to my instagram of everything around me. 

Or if you want you can see the photos rolling on the side of my blog.

Instagram

 

 

 

 

Our apartment in Paris

 Where to stay in Paris

Chez Nous.

If you or someone you know is looking for a place to stay in Paris, check out our apartment:

Our Paris Apartment

 

 

Paris twilight last year.

 

One of my favorite blogs, that has incredible information and tidbits, and history about Paris and more is

MESSYNESSY

 

 

 

Where are the brocantes?

Oh man. I could write a book about that, but do not want to.

Instead let me take you.

Brocante online 

Favorites:

Porte Vanves in Paris, every weekend  ten minutes from our apartment in Paris.

 

Isle sur la Sorgue Provence, every weekend

 

Aubagne last Sunday of the month in Provence.

 

Barjac twice a year, April and August.

 

International Antique Fairs (The best)

Where everyone goes, every one.

 

Ville Neuve d' Avignon every Saturday plus the 20 best brocantes in France.

None of the above are secret, they are constant, well known, sought after and very good. Everyone who loves the brocante knows these and goes.

 

BRACBROC

If you know when you are coming to France, and where you will be staying. The above site is the best to showing you what brocantes are in your area for the year.

Where are the "secret" ones? the best ones? the ones only the insider's know? Well those are the ones that come with living here and being here, and having the luxury of not having to go if you do no want to go because there are literally hundreds of them every weekend. 

 

 

A sign I love in the Marais.

 

 

 

Where to stay in Provence?

 

Chez Denise and Vlad's: Cotignac

 

 

 

 

Jean and Nathalie's, La Madone in Apt.

 

 

 

The Tiny House

in my small town is a lovely place to stay while in Provence.

  

 

When in Paris how to get around?

Bus

Train

Metro

Boat

Bike

Shuttle

Car

Electric Car

On Foot

Rollerskate?

 

 

 

Lavender fields in Provence?

 

 

Lavender in Valensole.

 

 

Everything you need to know about Provence Lavender.

 

LAVENDER? The best time to come and where to go s

ee the lavender fields in Provence?

 

 

Must stop into every bakery. I am not joking.

 

 

Restaurant in Cotignac on the Square.

 

Chez Gilbert in Cassis.

Oh Cassis

15 minutes from where I live.

My happy place.

Restaurants:

Grande Bleu ask for Philppe.

Chez Gilbert

Romano

Pastis Bar ask for Roger.

 

 

 

Drink a Pastis when in Provence. 

 

Cassis

 

Must See Route de Crete in Cassis.

 

Cassis 

 

 

 

Restaurants in Paris and Provence

 

A favorite restaurant in Paris by our apartment

La Cantine.

 

A favorite restaurant in Provence

Chez Serge

 

Old fashion wonderful Restaurant in Paris

Dumonet's.

 

Our dear friend's Patrice's Restaurant in Marseille, where the locals go for lunch

Bar au Moment

 

 

Provence my backyard.

My friend Denise and I created a mini list of things to do... 

Download A_little_paris-provence

 

 

 

What to do in Provence?

 

Saint Baume

 

What to do, where to stay in Marseille.

 

 

Buy flowers.

 

Cassis on the Route de Crete

 

 

 

Explore.

Just go without a map.

Open the door.

Let your desire lead you.

 

 

Reves d'Argile's Pottery

 

My friend Mo's pottery.

Ten minutes from my home.

I cannot visit her without wanting to buy something.

 

Ruth's photo of some wallpaper I found for her...

 

My friend Ruth and I have created The French Muse Experience where we offer week long, all included retreats in Provence.

If you are interested in the brocante, history, food, lifestyle, art, hanging out with us, staying in an old Provencal country house... and more. Tailored made experiences for you or your group. 

The French Muse Experience

 

 

Fondest of Memories: Mardi Gras in Venice

 

 

A few years ago my dear friend Merisi invited me to the carnival in Venice. I had been to Venice before but never to the carnival, it was beyond belief. As tomorrow is Ash Wednesday I wanted to revisit the memory I cherish. Is it the same with you that some memories are so deeply rich and beautiful that you dare not go back to the actually place because you do not want to tarnish it in any way?

 

 

 

The carnival in Venice is/was romantic, beautiful, eye candy galore, breathtaking, divine, a force of beauty and creativity stirred magically in the center of San Marco Square.

I was in utter heaven.

Each year I think of going back, and then I do not, silly since it is so close.

 

 

 

 

 

No matter where my eyes fell there was something to behold, something to appreciate.

Every detail was a masterpiece.

It was hard to take photos:

1) There was much to absorb, and easily be overwhelmed by.

2) Tens of thousands of people gathered around, calmly admiring, it was intense. I waited and waited to take a photo without having anyone in the photo but the subject matter. It wasn't easy. Plus it was freezing cold.

 

 

 

Antique textiles.

 

 

 

Rich detail.

I preferred the 18th century style to the Venetian Masks.

 

 

 

 

My favorite spot was nearby the Cafe Florian.

Seven in the morning.

 

This man was about eighty years old.

His wore knickers, with fantastic bows at his knees!

His clothes wear vintage.

Love at first sight.

Dang those vintage things get me every time!

 

 

 

Intricate metal lace collar.

 

 

 

 

 

Each carnival this young girl still writes me.

I was appreciative of each photo, the look in the eye, the magic shared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honestly wherever you look there is something to admire.

 

 

 

 

The perfect setting.

Venice.

San Marcos Square.

 

 

 

 

With such a setting how could I expect anything less?

 

 

 

 

A simple purple net ribbon as a mask.

A perfect touch to all that glam.

 

 

 

 

The black feather head piece was about four feet tall.

Incredible.

 

 

 

 

Young, old, man, woman, Italian, French, American...

Posing in such style.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you Merisi for the fondest of memories.

Carnival 2012

A Walk Around my Countryside

Photos and Text by Maggie

Maggie is staying in the Tiny House (for two and a half months) which is a stone throw from my home. I have a walking partner!

 

 

 

"Over the past week, Corey and I have walked about 45 miles. It never seems so, as we're talking about such fascinating things, the views are extraordinary, the sunshine addictive; time flies. These photos are just a few of our rambles in and around her home.

 

 

 

 

 We did 10k on Sunday in spectacular weather, passed often by families out walking as well or just coming home in a car from the nearest highest mountain---serious walkers they.

 

 

 

We both love the old bridges, the abandoned shepherd shelters, and the lovely flora: Umbrella pines, grey-green olives, rosemary just breaking into blue-bloom flowerets, wild thyme, and now the pushing pink-white buds of viburnum, oh yes, the vineyards getting ready for bud-break by month's end. Violets are poking up along the roadside rivulets matching the backdrop of azure sky.

Spring is on the cusp.

A little dog called Luna (by her tag) followed us for several kilometers down one mountain road. A kindly hunter who happened to be loading his car directly ahead of us called the number on her tag, and the grateful owner came rushing down to fetch her."

 

 

Late Autumn Walk in Provence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Train Ride through Time

 

The familiar train ride home.

Crossing over the Rhone river,

A castle on either side, 

Villeneuve-les-Avignon and Avignon,

 Face to face.

Tree lined borders,

VanGogh's painted fields in golden hues,

A Cezanne sky.

Still Life History.

I held my cell phone against the smugged train window,

TGV speed and snapped a photo.

No paint brushes,

Nor oil paint, not even a smock,

Timeless.

A miracle of another era capturing the same truth.

Beauty.

 

 

...

The Color or Light Vangogh 

 

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The World is an Apple.

 

 

 

 

 

A Little Wine Tour Chateauneuf du Pape

 

 

A little wine tour is what we set out to do. Chateauneuf du Pape is not far from Carpentras where the brocante I love to go to is at. Though when I am at the brocante red wine, even in such a dream place as Chateauneuf du pape, is the last thing I think about. 

Today might have caused a change of habit... well let's just say after a morning at the brocante I might start going wine tasting, er um discovering wine that is:

Chateauneuf du Pape

 

 

 

Our first stop was Chateau la Nerthe.

I could have stayed there.

Lived there.

and been happy ever after.

Chateau la Nerthe 

 

 

 

A little tour anywhere in Provence will show you olive trees, stone walls, ancient ruins, vineyards... beauty. 

And I never grow tired of being shown such.

 

 

 

We were fortunate to taste a 1984 bottle at Chateau la Nerthe. I like to entertain the thought that they sensed I appreciated old things. 

 

 

 

 

On the grounds of my Nerthe...

A stone tower.

One door leading in.

Locked.

 

 

 

 

In the near distance Chateau des Fine Roches.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Via Chateau le Nerthe,

"The moment the harvest arrives in the cellar it is sorted on a conveyor belt - always by hand - in order to eliminate the grapes that are either not ripe enough or spoiled. The whole of the harvest is stemmed, then undergoes a second sorting to eliminate any leaves or debris. 
Then the grape varieties that are particularly complimentary are mixed together in a vat where the fermentation will take place. 
Several successive tastings will help determine the best moment for the devatting: the free run wine is then drawn off by gravity and poured into vats for the malolactic fermentation. It is in this way that the wine will begin to evolve either in 16th century stone tanks, or in some cases, in large wood barrels." 

 

 

 

 

Domaine du Vieux Telegraphe

Was our second stop after lunch.

French Husband, Vlad and Denise carried a lively conversation with the owner.

I twirled, breathed in, thought of flavors that spoke of fruits, swished the wine in my mouth and drank. 

Falling in love with wine tasting.

How to taste wine? 

 

 

 

 

"Domaine du Vieux Telegraph, is the family background, the heart, but also the flag bearer, the flagship Vineyards Brunier. Located since its origin in the plateau of La Crau, South East Chateauneuf du Pape appellation, the vineyard has grown, developed and matured on this huge gravel terrace giving it its character, generation after generation. Of the 70 acres that make up the area today, 65 are dedicated to Châteauneuf du Pape red and 5 white. Only 4 wines are produced: Old red and white Telegraph, from the oldest and most complex wines vineyards, and Red and White Telegram, representing the second Vineyards wines Brunier AOC Chateauneuf du Pape. The cellars are located on the highest point, but 2 km to the south, at the foot of the plateau, at a place called The Pigeoulet, where it was more natural to dig into the rock formation to create the cellars , and enjoy the soil cutting for gravity delivery of harvests. For over a century, the Brunier family product in these places Chateauneuf du Pape red and white strongly influenced by their terroir wall behind which it can protect its vintages assaults of modernity excessive." Via Lavinia

 

 

 

 

 

What do you prefer?

Red

White

Pink

Chocolate

Apricot

Full Bodied

Coffee with a shot of Kahlua

Water

Beer

Kool Aid

...

I prefer red.

Full bodied.

From the descriptive words used by the wine makers it seems I prefer wines that are: 

Feminine and gourmandise. 

Gourmandise sounds better in French then Gluttony in English.

 

 

 

 

So much goodness in one day.

Le Clos du Caillou

 

"Le Clos du Caillou is ideally located in the municipality of Courthézon. It consists of 44 hectares in Côtes du Rhône, and 9 ha in Châteauneuf du Pape. Le Clos has the distinction of being located on the edge with the appellation Châteauneuf du Pape." via Le Clos du Caillou.

"The Clos du Caillou , run with passion by Sylvie Vacheron, is a winery located in the municipality of Courthézon, and spans 53 hectares appellations Cotes du Rhone and Chateauneuf du pape . The vineyards of Clos du Caillou enjoys an exceptional soil composed mainly of pebbles and sand filters. Vineyards Clos du Caillou are worked in accordance with nature: organic fertilizers and composts, regular plowing without use of herbicides, handpicking. Rigor that allows the field of Clos du Caillou get impeccable quality of grapes and develop some of the best nectars of the Southern Rhône Valley." Via 1 day I wine

 

Where to Go Antiquing in France and How to Get Your Antiques Back Home?

 

Antiquing in France, where the brocantes (antique markets) are as plentiful as the stars in the sky, it is not difficult to be a collector. One can collect an array of antiques, big and small, furniture, porcelain, rustic art, books, textiles, silver and ephemera in lightening speed. If you like antiques do not come to France because you will go crazy the moment your feet touch the brocante ground.

At the French flea markets where history lays out before you as easy as any major chain store does in the USA, it is not a question of what will you find? The real question is: What do you want to find? If it is something classic, traditional... common you will. Though if you want to find a certain shade of silk, or maybe a gilded mirror from the 1700s, or a rock crystal chandelier than you might have to look a little harder and not become distracted with all the other wonderful things you will find.

Paris: Saint Ouen the weekends.

Paris: Porte des Vanves. Saturday and Sunday.

Avignon: Ville Neuve de Avignon. Saturday.

St Tropez, Saturday.

International Antique Fairs in Montpellier, Avignon, Lyon, Villepinte...

Marseille: Fifi Turin and Le Grenier des Puces.

Pezenas, Galerie de Pézenas.

Isle sur la Sorgue (Entire town) plus twice a year the twon has a massive antique fair.

Don't forget the largest, once a year... Lille.

 

 

 

 

Great Listing of antique markets in France check out these links:

 

The Good Life... Brocantes in France.

 

Antique Markets in France you CANNOT Miss.

 

Insider's Guide to Flea Markets in France

 

 

 

 

When is the best time to go antiquing in France?

 

Anytime. Antique markets are year round. When in France ask at the local Tourist Office for the nearest: Brocante (antique market), Marche aux Puces (Flea Market), or Vides des Grenier (garage sale like market).
Though I find May and September to be very good months for antiquing.

What should you bring?

Cash, since credit cards and foreign checks are not accepted. A large backpack or push cart to carry your purchases. A small notebook to write down what you bought, newspaper or bubble wrap to protect the items that you find and hand sanitizer because your hands will get dirty.

How do I ship my goods back home?

1) Post your purchases from the post office. You can purchase a pre paid box that holds 14 pound. It costs approx. $70. Or you can box your goods yourself in a box up to (but it can be smaller) three feet by three feet, not weighing more than 60 pounds. Cost approx $350.

2) If you are a passenger going or coming from France to the USA, or the USA to France. You can cargo frieght your goods home. You need to package your own goods and take them to the airport. Size and weight are unlimited. Though all items must be boxed and ready for shipping. Your purchases will be sent by cargo freight, door to door. Check out Bagages du Monde on the internet.The cost is per pound. You must be flying overseas.

3) Or you can pack your purchases in your suitcases. Check your airlines for size and weight limitations. Usually an extra suitcase cost around $80 for 50 pounds.

4) Contact Fed EX and have your items picked up wherever you are staying.


5) LTC or "Less Than Container" you can use an international transporter (most antique shops can lead you to one) a cubic meter can cost up to $1000. Delivery is up to eight weeks and often your will have a custom entry charge. If you buy items at a local antique/brocante fair you will need to take your goods to an international transporter. If you buy your goods at an international fair or at an Antique shop, the international transporters will pick up directly for you. International transporters can be found on the internet, or at most French antique shops.

Edet International Transporter. 

 

Chudley's International Transporter

 

Air and Sea Packing

 

 

 

A good source to finding antique fairs in France:

http://brocabrac.fr/

 

 

 

 

Five Golden Rules about Antiquing in France:

1) Say Hello before you ask, "How Much?"

2) Look inside of boxes, behind the table, antique hunting is about "hunting" looking beyond what is in front of you. Ask the dealer if he has another shop, warehouse, box...?

3) Never be afraid to ask the price, or think "Oh it will be too expensive."

4) Go as early as you can, the best deals often go first.

5) Always ask for a better price and be polite when doing so.

 

 

 

If you cannot come to France, or even if you can,

look at brocantes and antiques online.

My shop

http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongueincheekantiques/ 

and 

French Ebay

and Etsy 

are some good starting points.

If i can find something for you let me know.

 

 

 

If you have any questions, and or want to add your advice to antiquing in France please do so in the comment section below.

 

 

 

Bon Chiner

means

Happy Antiquing

in French.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The French Brocante

 

At a brocante in France, one can find anything. Well, anything old, that is. The classic brocante finds are linens such as sheets with giant monograms, hand-made lace pillowcases, monogrammed dinner napkins large enough to be mistaken for a tablecloth... silverware, serving pieces, dishes, pottery, books, lace, ribbons, nightstands.... etc.

The classic brocante finds are plentiful to the point that it is easy for those living here not to notice them anymore.

Today some friends of ours who are here visiting France for a few weeks were surprised that we didn't go to a certain brocante. I had to remind them that on any given weekend, there are at least thirty or so brocantes within an hour's drive from our home. When you live in France, brocantes are as plentiful as the stars in the sky... finding the extraordinary, the unusual, the good price, and the right vendor is the difference between the visitor and the local at the brocante. The local has every day and weekend of the year to dive into the brocante, and the visitor has a handful by comparison.

 

 

At the brocante, I usually check the vendors I know first. Today I wasn't disappointed. I went to the stand of a man who, nine times out of ten, has more beautiful things than I can ever dream, plus for a price that is half of what one would pay if at a shop.

 

 

 

An iron plaque.

1900s

French

Large, solid...it took two men to carry it for me.

The plaque has two angels on either side of a shield. It used to be above a fireplace in a convent.

Yes, I like religious antiques.

 

Where am I going to put it? That is a question I do not know the answer to. But I did know I had to have it.

 

Descriptive Words Used to Describe Various Markets:

 Marche aux Puces - Flea market

Vide-Grenier - Similar to a Garage Sale, though in the center of town.

Brocante - an antique market

I like any place or shop that has old things, but usually, the brocante is my favorite weekend thing to do. The Vide Greniers and Marche aux puces usually have too many children's plastic toys and clothes for my likening. If you find one or two pieces to call your own, the price of the item will make you do a happy dance for days to come. So if it is cost over quality that you are looking for, then the Marche aux Puces and Vide Greniers are for you.

 

 

 

Now, where am I going to put it?