On a Clear Day, You Can See the Mediterranean Sea

INITIAL TRIP TO PROVENÇE - Chapter One

            The eucalyptus and redwood trees rose so high above the square, the California morning sun was blocked from view. Only a slight filtering of light slipped through those ancient boughs, and I found myself immersed in semi-darkness. What I expected to find in the village of Mill Valley was a mill, or perhaps, a river or two, but there I was standing in a flat space just before entering town—was I even in the town? —while staring up at the face of a canyon wall. Was the address correct? Yes, I double-checked. I could decipher that tidbit of information from the string of mailboxes lining the square. But it was obvious no one lived in the square. It appeared they lived at the top of a long, rough-hewn staircase which led up to the crest of the canyon wall.

            I shifted in my heels, realizing I was not prepared to scale up the side of a mountain. Or, any mountain or canyon wall, for that matter. Nor was I prepared to climb up two hundred steps at an almost vertical incline to the address I had been given. I had driven over an hour and a half from our home on the other side of the San Francisco Bay to meet a woman I had never met in Mill Valley to hand over a check. I was only vaguely familiar with her, as we had spoken only once on the phone. Yet here I was preparing to climb this rickety stairway to hand over the amount of $3,000. In ‘96, that was a bit of cash to hand to an absolute stranger. But this was all in exchange for a ten-day stay in her ‘farmhouse’ in Provençe. Yes, it was sight unseen. And, in the minuscule village of Claviers! What was I thinking? What were we thinking? My husband, Winston, and I had no plans to farm! We just wanted to learn what was so provocative about the magical place called Provençe! Yes, we wanted to know about the land that Peter Mayle had so charmingly described.

            How was it that his writings had enticed us to drop everything and travel to the south of France? Was it the idea of dipping our toes in the Mediterranean or, as they say, the Côte d’Azur? Was the allure and beauty of lavender fields beckoning us to trundle through purple blossoms to inhale a most intoxicating aroma? Were the local Provençal wineries and olive orchards waving us over? Or was it the idea of meeting the locals in the regions which were steeped in history of a long forgotten, yet slower way of living?

            Yes, yes, I confess! After we read Mayle’s hilarious book, A Year in Provençe, our juices were definitely stirred. The saga about his move with his wife from England to Provençe was more than hysterical. But it was also through the discovery of Marcel Pagnol’s books, My Father’s Glory and My Mother’s Castle and his rendition of his own childhood in Provençe that captured our hearts. Oh, those unforgettable, yet delightful characters carried wonder and magic through every page. (Didn’t Alice Waters name her infamous Berkeley restaurant, Chez Panisse, after one of his characters?) I blinked my eyes once, then twice, and with beguiling thoughts of Mayle’s and Pagnol’s delightful stories awaiting us, I began to thump up that lengthy staircase.

            “No,” I answered Maggie Cornell, “we have never been to the south of France. In fact, we’ve only visited France once before, and that was a trip to Paris in ’92.”

            “Well,” she said, as she sized me up. (I was taking on her rental house in Claviers, so she did have a right.)  “You’ll not have to fight big city traffic in this little village; in fact, there is very little traffic at all,” she stated. (Which, in retrospect, was an understatement now that I think of it.)

            “Your best bet is to fly into Nice, rent a car and make your way northwest to my village which is up in the mountains. Lots of mountain driving there. Are you up to that?”

            I must have grinned broadly as she took a step backward. “My husband, Winston, and I have just moved to California from Colorado. We know all about mountain driving.”

            “Switchbacks,” she asked again, with a bit of concern in her eyes.

            “Oh, we know them well; no problem!” I said, picking up the pen lying on the contract.

            Maggie ignored me, as she continued the description of the house. “I just want you to know what all you are getting here. So, there are three large bedrooms, and three bathrooms spread out on three floors, but the main living area is on the second level, which in France is considered 1^st floor. Yes, I know, it’s confusing. But you will adjust right away. Oh, and there is a balcony off the living room/dining area, which has a lovely large table for outdoor dinners. And on clear days, you can see to the Mediterranean Sea!”

            “. . . . on clear days, you can see to the Mediterranean Sea,” I repeated, in awe. Just think of that! Again, I picked up the pen and signed the contract before handing over the check. I was sold and said so. She then continued to detail what we would need to do once we arrived: How to get into the house; who to contact in an emergency; where and what days to buy groceries and last, but not least, what markets were open on what specific days.  

“You see,” she explained, “‘Don’t forget to find out where the nearest grocery store is located and know the opening and closing time of day and day of the week for the local farmer’s markets is essential.” For all the essentials, as it turned out. But I was so excited, I didn’t tune into all the specifics. I figured most of the directions and particulars were written on the back of the contract, and I blithely floated out the front door and down the stairs, as if on an escalator. We were going to Provençe! We were going to Provençe! We can see the Mediterranean on a clear day! Yes, our dream of traveling to Provençe was finally going to be fulfilled.

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FINALLY . . . I will finally be publishing my sixth book, Adventures on Land & Sea: Searching for Culinary Pleasures in Provence and along the Cote d’Azur, which is the fourth book in my Savoring the Olde Ways Series on November 12th!! You will hear bells ringing! You will hear horns blowing! Great fanfare will be felt all around.

So, why all the hoopla? I guess its because this book launch is the first I’ve had since the last two hit during the pandemic! Instead of celebrating in a muted-style of sorts on Zoom launches, I finally get to meet the public! And, I am so grateful!

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Come join me at one of the book events, or follow along with me through the next few months, as I take my book to numerous bookstores, a winery, a couple of yacht clubs — because there are stories of raucous sailing involved—and oh, there’s so much more!! Stay tuned! Please RSVP to any of the book events. Thank you!

My books are available through all the many fabulous places—Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books, Inc., Kepler’s Books . . . any where actually . . . in Harvard Books! Or, you can go to my website at www.carolebumpus.com and order from there! Easy!

And, as a sneak peak into the sailing episodes . . .

Jim & Sandy Turner, my husband and me, and Karyn and Laurent Foucher