2016 France * Annecy * September 29

"I haven’t been everywhere, but it’s on my list.” 

~ Susan Sontag

 

 

These are intense mountains through which the train tracks pass. The protruding ledges, tree covered, tiny towns.  Occasionally, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, there will be the ruin of a medieval stonewall running up the spine of a hill or a pillar with some statue atop.  Or a glimpse of a chateau on a hill, quickly obscured by passing trees or a mountain tunnel. 

I am adventuring out of Lyon on my own.  While searching nearby sites, I notice that Annecy gets a “must see” rating – top for a day trip out of the lion city.  My friend Agnès gives it her total support as well.  Just 45€ round trip on this absolutely beautiful, clear autumn day.  

I'm happily expectant! I get to adventure in a part of France I've yet to know.  Annecy.  So close to Switzerland.

 

"Petillante", the man called me. 

I didn’t know what it meant!  He graciously offered to guide me around town.  I graciously declined.  “Américaine” he stated.  Ah, my accent.  Later I learn that “petillante” means bubbly, effervescent, like champagne.

Eh ben.  How can one be otherwise on a perfectly gorgeous day in Annecy?

Blue-green waters of the canals and lake, accented with white swans, grey rough-stoned mountains, white boats and flower boxes of cadmium red and spring green.  The medieval stone buildings are golden and russet with black iron gates and lamp posts that hold amber glass.   

Gray mountains rim the opposite shore.  Varied, sheer cliffs, jagged of grey limestone, like the calanques of Cassis, deteriorated fallen rock covered with a variety of trees. Lakeside, the Park de l'Europe has been well cared for with trees hundreds of years old. Magnificent in girth and height. Marked with tiny tags as to genus and species. A friendly park, with a lovers’ bridge, benches and grassy lawns for locals to sit have a leisurely lunch.  

The older, now tourist, section of town area has well-lived buildings from the medieval era. A castle fortress on a hilltop. All the canals are lined with beautiful flower plantings.  Crimson geraniums, violet pansies, white accents with bright green leaves. Each tiny window is a photo-worthy image. The cobblestone streets are original stone and very clean.  Restaurants abound and unique stores for clothes, crafts and, surprisingly, very few tourist trinkets. 

 

An artist's treasure trove of images. 

Walking the alleyway Rousseau, where the music conservatory pours piano concertos out the windows, I decide upon a small restaurant, a street away from the popular ones along the canal. Quiche Lorraine and a green salad. Simple and good with a light flaky crust and plenty of ham.  Two pieces, not one. My table with the backdrop of stone buildings make a quaint photo. 

 

A final walk through the tiny picturesque streets, a stop for the most amazing gelato de Maître (cassis and crème brûlée in a house-made waffle cone), and then to the lake for some final shots with different lighting for my photos. School children were out with their instructors in some sort of large canoe-boats practicing team paddling. Locals on lunch breaks are still eating and socializing in the park. Tourists peppered in.  An absolutely perfect afternoon in Annecy.  

I concur.  Annecy is a “must see”. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Facebook Photo Album for Annecy:  

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10157444368245104.1073741956.804650103&type=1&l=ae81d01463 

 

 

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2016 Europe * San Gimignano #2 * Sept 21-22

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. 

I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” 

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Sept 21.  San Gimignano
 

Awake at 4am I take advantage of the midnight to 8am unlimited WiFi.  I am searching for trains and AirBnBs further north.  My final decision:  I am tired of considering options and details.  And making adjustments. And not knowing the language.  So I decide:  I hope to be in Lyon by midnight tomorrow.  Lorenzo will take me to San Gimignano to catch the 6am bus to Poggibonsi.  Then bus to Firenze, train to Milano, Nice, and Lyon.  At least that is what the Trenitalia site says is possible.  I’ve been in touch with Agnès in Lyon so she is aware of my upcoming arrival. 

Things always work out for me - so by midday, I decide to stop worrying.

Relaxing in the free swinging lounge chair on the patio, I glance up and realize that the top of three of the towers of old San Gimignano can be seen from exactly this spot.  I walked to and from there today.  Newly discovered corners of the city.  A spritz to drink in the central plaza with two friendly Canadian women.   Later a rich mushroom risotto and red wine.

Cool and cloudy on the way to town, gorgeous while there, and followed back to the AirBnB by various thunderstorms, majestic clouds, and striking sunlight.  I took a bunch of photos hoping to catch the drama.  Occasionally the air goes very still, like a warning that the distant storm is almost upon us, but one has yet to arrive.

In the vineyard on the hillside beside the property, some small tractor wagons and various harvesters are harvesting bunches of grapes.  They taunt the clouds.

Breathe deeply as much of the Tuscan air as possible!  Sense deeply the expanse of the hills and valleys!  Feel profoundly the quiet joy of being present.

Tomorrow it will be but a memory.

Three years ago I considered San Gimignano one of the most magical places I have ever been on earth – and that it is – but now it is a more bona fide entity to me.  I can see the tip of the tower just over the next hill.  A place for me, not for just a couple hours as the first time years ago, but now mine for a few days.  The town is a daily reality and neighbor to those who live in the vicinity. 

I lay back to relax and glance outward again .. and again, there it is!  Solid rock tower.  I touched it today.  I walked through its streets.  I felt the warmth of the Tuscan sunlight reflecting off its ancient walls.  I drank the rich red Chianti made from the grapes that grow on these hills.  And now, quietly, like a muffling blanket, the clouds cover us as one.

Sept 22.  San Gimignano, Italy to Lyon, France

Again I am awake at 4:30am in San Gimignano. 

I sent my mother a birthday message last night.  She, and my Dad, are both 90.  Long full lives. No regrets, I hope.  They started in me the desire to travel – when I was young.  They sent me to Ecuador when I was seventeen – with no Spanish skills.  They themselves traveled during vacations when possible and returned telling us of interesting places and wonderful experiences.

I’m on my way by bus from San Gimignano to Firenze.  There I buy train tickets for a day-long trip to Lyon. I do hope it's simple with few stops or changes.  I’m traveling with larger luggage than normal because of the cruise earlier and moving it on and off trains and dragging it through stations is not my favorite activity.  I decide, again, to lighten my travel load even more for the future.

Why in English is it Florence?  Could the English not pronounce Firenze?!  It's not difficult. Call things by their given name, people.  

 

I have good breakfast aboard first class (that surprised the porter - that my ticket was for first class). The train is full due to the fashion week in Milano so my only option was first class which cost quite a bit more. Still. Full service breakfast in my oversized leather seat.  Only one or two other people in the car. It's very nice occasionally to be in first class.  (If it were later in the day I would take advantage of the champagne.) 

I'm a shameless gawker at countryside. The trainload has lightened as people disembark and I've found double seats across the aisle open. I can shift looking from oceanside to mountainside in this beautiful country.

A couple train changes and I will be in Lyon before midnight. 

Facebook Photo Album (repeat link):  San Gimignano, Italy, photo album

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2015 FRANCE * Train (March 11)

"I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine."

 ~Caskie Stinnett

Lyon – Montpellier – Bordeaux – Périgueux

The trains come and go so quickly here that there is something old inside me that worries about missing a connection.  Of course I never do, so why the concern? 

Montpellier from the train station

Leaving Montpellier we pass through a marshy lowland area with vineyards (which we have passed through all day, of course) but also water marshes with ducks and ibis, and flamingos.  Scrubby vegetation and dry, early-spring fields, accented by pine and cedar trees.  The buildings which put their butts toward the train tracks are usually covered with colorful “tags” and graffiti.  The sun is warm here as we pass by the coast.  (I thought I had an aisle seat?  But so happy to find myself in a window seat watching the landscape pass - there are only about five or six people in this train car!).  There are factories and port machines and a distant tanker on the bay.  Canals guide the water.  When we enter cities there are parallel tracks that stretch 20 wide.  A marina where it is difficult to see the actual boats but the masts announce the location of each.  Sete – if I read the sign correctly.

Vineyard

A city with canals, limited, and some hills on the outskirts.  Life for many people.  Again it makes me wonder what makes people settle where they choose to settle?  Or is it a choice?  Or is it one chooses and then the family and friends follow and subsequent generations remain … Bamboo bunches beginning to leave.  Schools with children in varied colored uniforms practicing “foot” (soccer)   Housing developments with multiplicities of houses in slightly different colors.  Stockyards, gravel piles, new constructions, boxy little homes that remind me of a futuristic sci-fi movie.  And the beach.  Pretty much empty now except for the three layers of sand fences and shrubby grass.  In Maine we would be lounging in the sun.  Here .. well, it must be too cold to sunbathe.  Large intermittent parking lots on the other side of some dry vineyards, both are pretty much barren now. Then a medieval stone tower maybe two stories high appears in the center of … not much.

Still, I am fascinated by all the diversity of landscapes through which I pass.  Almost everything is interesting to me.  I enjoy the changes, the details, the different elements.  And at the speed of a TGV, the landscape is constantly changing.  Wait about seven minutes and we are away from the coast and into a brown, beige and caput mortem scrubland with a trailer park.   Radio towers on the hillside and boxy industries and houses are the norm.  Soon a flooded vineyard and the grassy areas become greener with trees and orchards.

The sun continues to shine as we head west-northwest toward Bordeaux.

I watch a bit of Bucket List on my Mac until my battery is low.  Why do people wait until they are nearly dead to live?  Another confirmation to continue traveling …

There are times when I remember that what I am doing now is something I have thought of doing most of my life.  Even when I was very young I felt I would not have to worry about money, that I would travel freely and a feeling of a full life.

Sunset en route to Bordeaux

A bit like Tuscany now. And, pop!, a chateau in the field. Fruit and nut trees in bloom.  Some sort of grey low bushy plant in fields. (?). Workers in the vineyards checking the vine stumps or lowing between the rows. Another solitary watchtower. Or is it a pigeonniere?  Hills become mountains.  Cities give way to towns and countryside. Vineyards fit into every irregular quilt-piece of land.  All the different types of vines. Short stocky new thin fanned flat branching.

There is an impressive castle and walled town on a hill somewhere between Montpellier-Toulouse.  I imagine visiting and discovering the secrets.

So green. Spring green. Grass?  For feed?  Then a wide flat area between blue-grey-white hills distant on either side. Trees divide fields and cuddle around farmhouses.  Clean newly plowed deep-brown dirt. Huge fields.

Is there a limit to my time on the road? Or am I just tired from being on a train all day today?  It is good to have a change now. I'm nearly ready to go home so a change will keep me going for a while. Three weeks. I plan to get a lot of painting done during this time.   

Or perhaps it is simply time to get out of the cities.  It is now the last train and I'll be in Périgueux soon. Vivi or Denis, my wonderful friends, will pick me up at the station then back home to Payenché to a shower and bed. Ahh….

Payenché

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