Breakfast, late July, Provence

No Artificial Coloring or Preservatives

Three peches jaunes from the farmer down the road to my outdoor breakfast table this morning.  Having missed the season for Stonewall peaches this year (sweeter, but not as pretty), I've been especially happy to see these coming in over the last three weeks. 

I shot this before I gobbled down two, but didn't post until after my second cup of coffee.

At Your Service/A Votre Service

Life in France is all about the details.  The same could be said for life anywhere, I suppose, but when I’m here I slow down enough to notice more. Noticing more is always worth the extra time.  It is easier to be alert in a new place that demands your attention in a way that familiar places don't. But it's also a question of pace.  Our ridiculous American pace, worship of competition, race to win makes it nearly impossible to pause and take note of small things. Life rushes by in one continuous, undifferentiated, swiftly flowing stream. Before I know it, the entire river has passed by without my seeing, or appreciating, any of it. 

In Austin, a trip to the gas pump is pure function and speed. I arrive, shove the card in the pump, fill the tank as fast as I can and drive away, barely knowing where I’ve been for those five minutes or so.  Which may be just as well.  The station where I pump gas is a wasteland of concrete with fume-spewing traffic just a few feet from where I’m standing. Everything seems coated in a patina of gray filth.

In Provence, the closest place to purchase gas is a Total Station, set back off the road about the length of a tennis court and surrounded on three sides by grape vines for as far as the eye can see.  Across the two-lane highway from the station is the large warehouse of a Cotes du Rhone wine distributor, landscaped with rose bushes just outside the black wrought iron fence. You can’t really see the wine warehouse once you’ve pulled into the pumps, because they’ve been placed thoughtfully behind the gas station building so that drivers are shielded from the road while filling their tanks.  The driveway from the highway to the pumps is planted with roses and zinnias of many colors and between the pumps and a new carwash (enthusiastically advertised on the road as “!!Nouveaux!! Lavage Automatique”) is another bed of purple flowers and silver shrubs that help block the wind blowing across the vines.

I’ve had a lot of time to study the surroundings because getting gas is not fast.  The old pumps have no place to put a credit card; that must be walked inside the station and handed to the wife of the station owner.  A lady in her 50s, with faded ash blonde hair, a beige T-shirt, a soft voice and a Zen calm, she chats briefly with the regulars, makes sure everything runs clean and smooth and always has a friendly “bonjour” when I come in.  This process is gentle and human, but it also means a wait for a pump – each of which has only one hose.  People line up and wait their turns patiently and instead of taking five minutes, it can easily take 10 but they are not unpleasant minutes and they offer a chance to study your environment and think.

Earlier this week, I was waiting at the pump with everyone else, lined up in our cars facing east.  In front of me, the elderly gentleman and his wife, both of whom had gone into the station together to pay for their gas, came strolling out to get in their car so I could take my turn at the pump.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, a beat up black Peugeot circled the line and pulled up to the pump going the opposite way.  A disheveled man with curly hair graying at the temples jumped out, snagged the pump and began filling his car.  I pulled up a couple of feet, turned off the engine and walked my credit card inside, grinning at his flagrant violation of pump protocol.  I smiled at the woman behind the counter and at her husband, who had witnessed the line jumper. 

There is a kind of stylish blue overall that workers wear in France and if you’ve seen one you know exactly what I’m talking about.  They communicate confidence, saying that the person inside the well-worn overalls has been doing his job for a long time and is good at it, understands the traditions behind his “métier” and respects them.  Someone wearing such overalls is disciplined, serious and honest.  Of course, they’re just blue cotton overalls, but they’ve never let me down yet.  Workers in France are among the most reliable and accomplished I’ve ever met – and this goes for electricians, plumbers, masons … and filling station owners.  The station owner was wearing such overalls, underneath which was a t-shirt that must have been red 25 years ago, but now had faded to a lovely dusty pink.   He smiled at me warmly and strolled casually to the pump where Mr. Black Peugeot was pumping away.

You could not hear what was said, he spoke very softly to his customer.  He was smiling and had the body language of someone correcting a naughty child who had snatched a playmate's toy.  The only reason I knew he was reprimanding the driver was Mr. Black Peugeot’s reaction, at once defensive and sheepish.  The station owner listened to him quietly, patted him gently on the shoulder and strolled back inside.  When the driver went inside to pay – by now I was finally getting my gas – the station owner’s wife wished him a fine afternoon.
 

I suspect that next time he stops for gas – whether at this station or somewhere else – he’ll be more inclined to wait in line.  He was reminded of the importance of good manners by someone who had them in spades.  And I was reminded of how different daily life is here and how even something as routine as filling your car can become a moment to notice and remember. 

p.s.  I went to get gas again yesterday and paused to shoot a few photos for this post.  As I was paying, the service station owner's wife noted that I'd been taking photos and asked me which one I'd photographed. I must have looked confused, because pointing to a red bucket and rag beside one of the pumps, she explained: "I was in the middle of cleaning the pumps today, but I have not had time to finish.  Please shoot the clean ones." I assured her I would.  And I had. They were all clean -- cleaner than my car, cleaner than the front steps of my house, heck, cleaner than my kitchen.  

Wheels

Second only to airfare -- which this year is far higher than at any time in recent memory -- is the cost of car rental for travelers in France.  I keep meaning to buy a car but somehow I just haven't managed to get around to it so I continue to rent for a month at a time every visit. Really, I will buy a car sometime this year, but in the meantime, I've assembled a short list for myself of places to rent that are an alternative to Hertz, Avis and Europcar.

Although I've had first-hand experience with a pretty wide array of rental companies, this list also comes from the readers of the marvelously entertaining and terribly useful French Word-a-Day blog, by author, mom, and popular blogger Kristen Espinasse. She asked her readers for suggestions, got quite a few and I've added my two cents from my own experience.

Keep in mind that, just as in the United States, all rental agencies place additional fees and surcharges on cars rented at airports and train stations.  If you can rent a car from centre ville, you can save some cash.  Also, don't forget that gasoline and diesel costs are far higher everywhere than in the U.S. so if you can drive a stick and do with a smaller car, you'll save both money and the environment.

BSP-Auto: This is my favorite and the place I rent from nearly all the time.  My friend Marie-Kristine suggested it and she's one of the two most knowledgeable, practical, wonderful French women I know.  It turns out that BSP contracts with the major car rent companies, like Hertz or Europcar, to rent their excess stock at a discount.  It is the same car you'd get from the big guys but often $200 to $400 less for a month of rental.  Mileage is limited, but the limit is set so high I've never exceeded it.  At airports and train stations throughout France, they tend to share office space with their partners so you'll be walking up to the same rental car counter you would if you were spending more money and dealing with the same agents. The Website is in French only.

Sixt.fr:  This is the second best option if cost is a principal driver. (Yes, I said driver.)  They're all over the country, have good rates and sometimes offer special discounts that make them a more attractive option than BSP-Auto.  They also seem to have their own fleet, rather than consolidating the vehicles of partner companies.  Another Website in French only.

Super-U:  This chain of French grocery stores also rents vehicles and they can be less expensive than other places.  However, you have to find a way to get from the train or plane to the nearest Super-U and I've found the clerks in the stores to be both ill-informed and ill-tempered.  They really want you to just buy a jar of mustard and leave. There's also a cap on mileage here and many Super-U's rent only small trucks and vans to be used for hauling, like U-Haul in the U.S.  I've never rented from the store, but for someone already in France and close enough to a Super-U to stop in, it might prove a good deal.

DriveTravel.com: This may not be the least expensive place to rent a car, but it is the only one with links to leasing motor homes, motorbikes, canal boats, luxury sports cars and classic cars, in addition to your garden-variety Twingo.

Auto Europe Discount Car:  Offers car rental throughout France and some tips on driving in Europe. You pay upfront and avoid currency exchange charges, but it is not especially inexpensive.  Word is that their customer service is quite good, but I've never used them and I'd guess that's more the luck of the draw.

I have heard time and again that for long-term rentals of one to six months it is possible to get better rates by leasing or doing a lease buy-back from Renault, Peugeot or Citroen.  I have never found this to be a good option. You must rent at least 21 days in advance, the paperwork is more complicated and the costs are higher.  You do get a brand new car, that's true, but the cars I've rented from the rental agencies are all one or two years and in new condition so I don't see that as much of an advantage.  It might be a better deal at the high end if you're renting a more luxurious vehicle, and is worth exploring in any case. Here are two places to begin:

Autofrance: For Peugeot and Citroen, Autofrance is located in most cities with airports or major train stations. You can pick up the car and return it in other parts of Western Europe, the price includes full insurance coverage, no service charges or other taxes and charges.  They arrange to meet you and get you the car on your schedule.  It also is possible to buy the car at the end of the lease. I've been told the program is available only to holders of non-European Union passports.

Renault:  I've heard that this is a good program and the online research seems to bear it out. Renault's leasing program offers prices comparable to Hertz, Avis, Europcar and Budget but allows you to select the car you want from their fleet.  Pick up and drop off are all 32 locations throughout Europe, including the major French destinations.  Leasing means unlimited mileage, a new car warranty, comprehensive insurance with no deductible, 24/7 multi-lingual roadside assistance and a broad network of service agents.  Renault also will lease to drivers as young as 18 years of age, whereas most of the others restrict rental and permission to drive to those 25 years of age or older.

Buckle up!

Good news for Owners of French Real Estate

The Fédération National de l'immobilier, the French estate agents' body, says average prices of all homes in France rose 6% in 2010 and property purchases exceeded 700,000 – a 15% rise on 2009. "Prices, after having fallen quite significantly – approximately 10% if we look at the end of 2009 – have regained a certain strength," says FNAIM president René Pallincourt.

The average price of a home in Burgundy is now €148,400 (£129,000), while in Languedoc the figure is €208,800 (£182,000) rising to €384,200 (£334,000) in Provence. The federation and lenders, such as Credit Agricole, predict rises of about 3% this year, with larger increases in cities.

Le Corbusier at the Pratt

The design philosophy and work of Charles Édouard Jeanneret-Gris – Le Corbusier – will be celebrated starting August 30 when the Brooklyn-based architecture and design school, Pratt Institute debuts a free exhibition of his architecture, design, painting, writing and urban planning.

“Le Corbusier – Miracle Boxes” will present more than 50 of Corbu’s public buildings, including his exhibition pavilions, museums, theaters, cultural centers, monument and temples, as well as documentaries on his life and work.  Pratt says this is the first New York exhibition in 60 years dedicated entirely to the work of a man who some believe was the greatest architect of the 20th century.  The last exhibit was at New York's Museum of Modern Art in 1951.  (When the architect first visited New York City at the invitation of MoMA in 1935, he said New York City's skyscrapers should have been bigger and spaced farther apart.)

I’m hoping I can find a way to see this ambitious exhibit. I saw another on Corbu in Paris some years ago, and I've visited his Atelier Ozenfant on avenue Reille in Paris and the splendid Villa Savoye about 30 minutes outside the city. I remember less about how these buildings looked like than I do about how it felt standing inside -- lonely, uneasy, exposed.  You may not love the buildings, but they elicit strong feelings and you can't forget their raw beauty.  

The Miracle Box that gives this exhibit its name is a full-scale construction, based on Corbu’s smallest architectural project, a seven-and-a-half-foot cube that was originally located inside his Paris atelier. The reproduction will also feature Corbu’s 1947 sculpture “Ozon” and the 1932 painting “Verre,” which were both originally featured in the “working cell,” as he called it. The Miracle Box will be on display outside of the Pratt Library in Brooklyn coinciding with the start of the exhibition on August 30 and will be installed in the library’s lobby as part of the school’s permanent collection following the exhibition. 

Four years after Corbu wrote about his Miracle Box as a container you can fill with “everything you dream of,” he expanded the ideas behind this project into a small summer house for himself and his wife.   In fact, this tiny box was the only structure Le Corbusier ever built for himself -- a 172-square foot (16 square meter), wooden cabin at Cap Martin that he referred to as his “castle on the Riviera.”  

The exterior, at first glance, looked like thousands of other simple, French summer cabanons, but the interior was a spectacularly detailed, elegant “machine for living.” And live in it he did, spending 10 summers there, working in an adjacent studio on projects such as the pilgrimage chapel, Notre Dame du Haut Ronchamp (1955) that he “dedicated to nature.”  

After the Pratt exhibit closes in New York, it will tour Bogota, Rome, Florence, Barcelona, London, Paris and other cities. I can't wait to see it. 

French Bloggers Take a Holiday

We are nearing the end of the beloved Fermeture Annuelle, the annual summer closing of millions of French businesses every July or August.  Especially in August, much of Paris shuts down and thousands of Parisians head to the warmth and pleasures of Provence. Meanwhile, everyone in Provence bails to their own summer retreats and travels.

Americans visiting here often ask with a level of incredulity reserved for UFOs, "This restaurant is CLOSED?! But it's August. It's tourist season. Don't they worry about losing money?!!"

Mais, non.  Money is nice but summer holidays are sacred. Time with family and friends, time to enjoy the pleasures of a good book, meal, conversation are incomparably more important than filling a bank account.

Now, the Fermeture Annuelle has been taken to the next level. The lovely French Website-blog-online store Couleur Chanvre is in Periode Bleu -- closed for the month of August. It is an official summer closing and they're not alone. This month I've noticed many blogs doing the same thing.  I hope this formal closing takes hold, becomes a trend and spreads to American bloggers. We must all unplug every so often -- it is essential to creativity, perspective, reflection and balance.

What do you think? Do you close down your blog officially for holidays?

Bravo Couleur Chanvre.  Et bonnes vacances!

A "Princely" Airport and a Stunning Work of Art

Aeroports de Paris, the operator of Paris' Charles DeGaulle and Orly, reported this week that airports in the French capital saw a 3.1% increase in passenger traffic in July compared with the same month of 2009.  

The numbers just reinforce the experience of anyone who has arrived at one of Paris' main airports  -- especially international travelers -- over the last few years.  The crowds are horrific, the terminals redolent with body heat and the panic of potential missed planes, everything feels rumpled and dirty and more than a little confusing. I do a lot of business travel besides my back and forth between houses in Texas and Provence, so I've had a lot of time to wonder why airports cannot be designed for humans, why they must be so consistently ugly, uncomfortable, and dehumanizing. The Paris airports are better than many, but I’ve begun looking for ways to avoid the biggest airports, the most popular travel days and the crowds. 

This summer, rather than flying Air France to DeGaulle, I flew British Airways through Heathrow to Lyon Saint-Exupéry, a train station and airport named after the author of "Le Petit Prince," Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.  I can't recall ever wanting to spend MORE time in an train station or airport -- but this is not a place to be rushed through and endured.  This is a destination, a small wonder, a work of art.  As art, it is not merely visually appealing, it evokes feelings and associations and memories. As the fox tells the Little Prince, "on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur" ("one sees clearly only with the heart").  I realize I sound a little goofy waxing on about an airport but, really, this is something quite special.  

If Eero Saarinen's Dulles Airport terminal looks like an aircraft wing, Saint-Exupéry appears to be a marvelous, metal bird perched on a concrete field but ready for flight.  Designed by the world famous Spanish engineer and architect Santiago Calatrava, the train station connects directly to the main airport terminal and airport hotel. Calatrava's design was selected in open competition and built between 1989 and 1994. (Check out his current projects slated for New York, Chicago and Dallas.) Why more people don't use this lovely port of entry for coming and back and forth to France -- why I haven't used it until now -- is beyond me. Many of the fast TGV trains (train a grande vitesse) connecting Paris with Geneva and southern France stop at the Lyons Airport (as well as at the main station in central Lyons, Part Dieu), so for anyone traveling to Switzerland or points south, Lyon is far easier than going through Paris. The airport is an easy 20-minute cab ride from central Lyons, a lively, sophisticated, beautiful and underrated city built not along just one river like Paris, but two. 

On my way back to the States, I took the TGV to Lyon and had the surprising pleasure of a walk through the station, a lofty, exhilarating interior with windows like glass feathers and bones of steel. There was barely a soul in the entire place -- a couple of SNCF employees, a dozen passengers who rushed from train to plane, leaving me for a few minutes virtually alone. When I finally tore myself away, it took just two minutes to walk to the main terminal and an additional two minutes more to cross the small airport plaza to the NH Lyon Airport Hotel. Total time from station platform to registration desk, about 5 minutes.

The NH, by the way, is quite a bargain. For a little more than $100 (book ahead), I had a comfortable, clean, stylish room that overlooked the main terminal and was absolutely silent. Pleasant staff at the desk, nice deep tub, flat-panel TV, fluffy pillows.  Just about everything you could ask for in an airport hotel. Getting out the next morning was entirely stress-free. Paris is now my second choice as a place to enter France and catch the TGV. And the increase in passenger traffic at DeGaulle and Orly is only going to get worse, making Lyons an ever more attractive port of call.