Of oxcart tracks and other steep places... Cinquieme Part

We recently felt we'd reached our James Watt limit of Village Perche'.  Seen one?  Seen them all. And, yes, we still hate that idiot James Watt.  But that's not the point of this tale.

We were coming down to the end of our Winter Stay along the cote d'Azur.  In the interest of keeping the Prius' battery charged, we decided to get one more visit in before heading north to certain re-confinement dans la region Parisienne. 

There was a magazine in the apartment where we are staying has a nice little article on the village perche' that surround Nice.  We looked at one called Peillon to visit.  It's just 20 minutes from the apartment.  Further up the Alps is a sister village perche' called Peille.

Consulting the maps and considering the terrain, we saw that both are rather steeply situated.  After visiting Sainte Agnes we were a little leery of goat paths narrower than two goat rumps in width.

Using Google maps street level I took a virtual drive up to Peillon and wow! that's one narrow and steep road.  The road to Peille, on the other hand, looked to be bit, if only a little, more "do able."  So Peille it would be.

We passed Peillon on our way out of town and were very glad we'd not tried to climb that road.  That's one seriously "perched" village!  The way it juts out into the valley high up  on granite crags is very impressive, even from the road below.

Perhaps we'd made the right decision?  We squeezed past at a roaring 2km/hr an on-coming dump truck that was decending the goat herd path.  It was a little dicey.  But nothing was damaged.  Nothing was scrapped.  We are slowly getting used to this kind of thing.

It turns out Peille is one of the nicest village perche' we've thus far visited.  It feels lived in.  It's empty of Bobo Super Chic art galleries and Michelin Starred Restaurants are either hiding or are simply not there.  It was like a breath of Fresh Alpine Aire.

The Principality of Monaco still has influence there.  Parks and paths and memorials to the Prince and Princesses were surprisingly numerous.

Being the geeks we are, Judith and I were more impressed by the fact that the early langue d'Oc is still spoken there.  A man who learned the langue d'Oc from his mother now, in turn, teaches the language to schoolchildren.  

What makes this a geeky subject is that the langue d'Oc is a very close descendant of plebeian, working class Romans.  Of course Italian, French, and Spanish are descendant languages of Latin.  Perhaps the langue d'Oc hews closer to the original Roman language?  It could be interesting to find out the answer to that. 

Wouldn't you know it?  The very next day it was announced that all of France would require attestations to travel farther than 10 kilometers.  Sure, if you tested negative to CV19 you could climb on an airplane and fly to any country around the world that would accept you.  But travel more than 10km regardless of test results?  No can do.  C'est interdit.  Zut!

The question was, do we head north to uncertain restrictions and changing circumstances or stay in Nice for another month.  The new restrictions were to last at least three weeks.

For the second year in a row and for the very same reason (ie: we're in the middle of a pandemic) we decided to extend our stay in Nice.

 

 

[see here for more images from Peille]

The Essential...

Having lived in France for over nine years, one begins to pick up and the subtleties of life and power and politics.

Being "locked down" has recently meant that all "non essential" businesses are closed.  All "grands surfaces" (the big stores) are limited to selling food.  All other areas are either cordoned off or outright closed.  All restaurants remain closed, though take-out food is allowed. 

"Essential businesses" are clearly listed.  But the list has, oh, how shall we say, "evolved" over the past year.  It's easy to imagine the arm wrestling going on over who gets to make money and who gets to remain on the public dole.  

One of the things that has helped France get through the pandemic without too many public demonstrations of discontent is the size of the public dole.  Money, it appears, can calm the beast.

Life and living, business and take-out food can only happen between 06h00 and 19h00 weekdays.  On the weekends we need an "attestation" (basically "our papers" that show we have a valid state-approved reason to be out of the apartment) where the curfew starts on Friday at 19h00 and ends on Monday 06h00.

It was a joy to see on the morning news something delicate and light.  France's Prime Minister, Jean Castex, received a gift in the mail.  It was a small gift.  Nothing much, actually. But it was something that might help him reconsider his list of "essential" business.   

When he opened his little bubble-wrap envelope he found a pretty pair of women's underwear.

Have we mentioned recently how much we enjoy living in France?

Stories from the Third Confinement...

 

 

Here's a little story...

I woke up a little funky from the Astra-Zenica vaccine the morning after I'd taken the shot.  Nothing bad.  Just feeling like I wanted to lay low and do basically nothing.

... except... the starter battery in our new used Prius decided it was End of Life...  it expired... no electrons left to share...  and once I got the ball rolling to get her a new battery...

After having been told that the tow-truck driver would haul the car to the dealer for repair I had her jump-started.  And to the dealership?  Ah.  No.  M.Remorquer decided I could drive the wounded beast to the dealership myself.  Without turning her off I ran upstairs, grabbed my things, told Jude what was up, and dashed out the door.

I spent the afternoon at the dealership service bay.  

 

Got a scare when the indicators said there was something wrong with the hybrid system and that the power battery pack would need replacing. In the end, it turned out all she needed was a new starter battery and the hybrid electronics reset to a known good state, just as I thought to begin with. 

 

There was a ton of traffic coming home. Then Jude told me it's Easter Week and everyone and their dog is out and about.

I was pretty wiped out.

 

 

Here's another little story...

We've seen this again this winter here in Nice.  Our apartment is close enough to the port that we can watch the ships and boats as they come and go.

While most of the comings and goings  have been pleasure craft and cement ships, there have been at least two large ships that have pulled into port.  These ships unloaded and loaded no-so-small pleasure craft.  It's been like watching an automobile transporter, but on a much larger scale.

This gave rise to our common comment that "the rich do whatever they want."  Even, and particularly during the time of this Covid-19 pandemic.

It should come as no surprise that word officially leaked that *gasp!* the rich were acting like there was no pandemic.  The maitre d' even said so at the door.  500euro a plate got you access to the back room of various high end restaurants up in Paris.

 

In France all restaurants are closed.  Unless you're rich, that is.  If you're Well Heeled, you can do anything you want.

It appears that two of the rich bastards who organized dinners at the Palais Vivienne have been arrested.  Is there justice?  Not enough of it, really.

One last story...

European countries have restricted travel within and across boarders.  

 

However, there has been a loophole.  If you test negative for CV19 you can climb onto a plane to go anywhere that will accept that aircraft. 

The Hot Spot for Young Party Crowd has been Madrid.  Restaurants and bars are open.  They are doing outstanding business as a result.

There have been interviews with Spaniards who are pissed.  Really pissed.  Why?  Because these partying types tested negative and they could fly to another country.  Yet the locals are not allowed to go more than 10km, even if they test negative to CV19.

The topic came up just yesterday on the French news during an interview with a minister to the EU.  The man had no clear, satisfactory response as to how to resolve this glaring inequality.

If you have money, you can do what you want.  You can buy an airplane ticket and fly away to Madrid.  You can move your boat anywhere around the world.  You can escape local restrictions by simply being who you are at your economic level.

For the rest of us, we have to toe the line.