Christmas Crafting Commences!

God I love alliteration. Whenever I see it, I get a small happy feeling. Is that weird?

It's officially the start of the holiday season, which means I'm into my full-tilt crafting binge. It started with the 9 aprons I made for Turkey Day. They are way precious and I'll post photos as soon as I find some (I didn't take any, sad face).

Even so, the weather is chilly and I want nothing more than to cuddle up with some hot tea and my yarn. I'm in love with a drop stitch pattern with merino blend variegated color yarn, and it knits up super-quick!

Scarves or aprons, oh it's so difficult to choose. What do you want?

Additionally, I've got flannel fabric with penguins on it. I sense some PJs coming into existence soon.

If it seems like I'm ignoring my phone, it's just because I can't hear you over the sewing machine.

Excuse Me While I Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

That was a line said to me today by Patty. I thought it was amazing.

Anyway, this is something to ponder for you thirsty people, since I haven't done a drink post in a while: What do you drink with chicken soup? I'm making chicken soup today since it cures just about anything from a headache to the flu to a bad day, and as I'm really into proper pairings of food and beverages, I ask again: What do you drink with chicken soup?

I'm open to your suggestions...

Backdated Entries?

Yeah, OK, call it whatever you want, I'm still going to call it writer's block.

Venice:

Venice was incredible. We spent the whole weekend there. While I'm not a fan of the huge amounts of tourists everywhere (I advise to go during the week or when there isn't a cruise ship in port), I absolutely loved the city. I think it was a really good introduction to Italy.

The canals are amazing (and not smelly), and the entire city is a pedestrian's heaven. No, I didn't take the gondola ride (I almost barfed on the big water taxi, so no way was I spending an hour in a dinky little boat with a dude that has only one paddle).

Rome:

Rome is so old. It's incredible in it's antiquity. Loved the Colosseum -- I really could almost picture the lions and the Christians battling it out (I'd put my money on the cats, personally). The Vatican is incredible in it's structure and intricacy. Not my kind of thing, really, but it's definitely imposing. If I believed in any of it, it would probably make me pretty terrified. While it was great to visit Rome, I don't feel the kind of connection to it that I feel with Paris or LA.

Today, we head up into Umbria and Tuscany. There's been a "mixup" with the "van" (Craig wants to call it a drunkbus, I call it a shortbus, whatev) so there's some issues to be worked out before we can get there. Since we've stashed ourselves in one of the hotel rooms that we were supposed to have checked out of about 35 minutes ago, we'll see how the rest of the day plays out. Pictures will have to follow later.

When in Rome...

...and apparently I have writer's block. Ugh. Looks like the updates will have to wait until later.

Nice Is... Nice

Ahaha had to make the joke. And for those that are perdu (lost), the city I'm in is Nice (pronounced kneece) and it is quite lovely. Yet another quiet and efficient train ride, and the station is just a few blocks from my hotel. The afternoon is winding down, so I hit up a market, got some provisions (read: fruit, wine, bread, cheese) and thought I'd do my update from the tiny but adorable balcony attached to my tiny but adorable room.

I'm less than a ten-minute walk to the sea, which is really incredible. Walking down the Boulevard d'Anglais, it really hits you that you're in the French Riviera. And if you're still perdu, here's some hints.

1. There are way too many men in either speedos or swim trunks that make boxer briefs look modest.

2. There are a lot of perfectly tanned bare breasts, and it's no biggie.

3. The boats offshore are either fabulous sailboats or giant yachts.

OK, so I see why it's the Cote d'azur (blue coast).

Oh, and I managed to get (well, he attempted) picked up while minding my own business and staring out at the beautiful blue sea. Though I repeated, “I have a boyfriend” his response was along the lines of “so what?” LOL. I said a “merci, mais non” followed with an “au revoir” and decided to walk inland and find the gardens.

The gardens are gorgeous, and when you turn the corner along the path, you could lose yourself along the flowers and shrubbery. Also, I noticed that they really seem to like fountains in Nice. They're really cool fountains, there's just like five or six all within eyesight of each other.

Boom goes the dynamite!

The street below is a constantly varying sea of activity. A Vespa will scoot by, or just below me, two me shout at each other in a heated but not physical conversation. When there is a moment of quiet, like after the car has just passed, I think I can hear th sea. Or maybe I simply have come to associate the sounds of sea gulls and the wind through the palm trees as being equivalent to the crashing of the waves on the shore.

It's a little chilly to go for a dip now, so I think I'll just have to drag Craig down to the seaside when he gets here tomorrow. Like the whole water-within-walking-distance thing is new for the Malibu boy, but maybe I can tempt him anyway.

Also, for you thirsty people, a recommendation...

My new favorite red wine is a Cotes du Rhone. It's amazing. The two major grapes in it are Grenache and Syrah, which are two of my three favorites – the other is Pinot Noir. I found a rose Cotes du Rhone at the market today, it's chilling in the mini-fridge and I'll open it up later/tomorrow. Also, I finally found a Languedoc, and that's good too. It's a big red, but it has a certain almost-sweetness (like a tart apple) that you're not getting with the Cotes du Rhone. Both are good and I highly recommend them should you try them. One last thing: neither one of these was more than 4 euros.

Marseille to Nice, on Another Train

On the road tracks again...

11:50 a.m. Voie G at Marseille-St. Charles train station

I freaking love trains. It's like an unhealthy obsession. Maybe I was a conductor in a past life? Oh, and "Thomas the Tank Engine" the TV show was totally my fave growing up.

I'm on board the 11:59 train to Nice-Ville. Stops in several seaside cities along the way, but I decided to forgo them and head straight to Nice. I'm looking forward to strolling along the Boulevard d'Anglais, and maybe even going for a dip in the Mediterranean. I did bring my swim suit, after all. So far, I've got a window seat and the seat next to me is unoccupied. I'm hoping it stays that way. And if it doesn't, I hope it's occupied by someone who wears deodorant.

Since I've got a good two plus hours on this train, I think it's time to bust out my new book, which I purchased at the Red Wheelbarrow, and English-language bookshop in Paris. I found it one day while looking for a boulangerie (it was time for baguettes and tartlettes aux framboises again). It's a delightful little shop, piled to the ceiling with books. The lady was quite helpful, and I purchased a book by Alexandre Dumas (of course) that I'd never heard of: The Women's War. Women ruling the world? Secrecy, lies, espionage, betrayal, probably murder, and all set during the reign of Louis XIV? Oh yeah, I'm down.

12:44 p.m., Toulon station

When the buildings spread out, you could see the sea off to the right. On the left were fields of peach trees, nestled in the valleys with the rocky hills behind them. Soon, maybe some vineyards? Book is good so far, but the guy kinda over-translates. I prefer when they leave the names of places/titles in French, but oh well.

1:42 p.m., Somewhere Between St. Raphael and Cannes

The sea is directly to the right of the tracks. There's a grey sky out today, and in the bay sail boats are bobbing along. Beautiful houses dot the hills, and you can see the waves crashing on the rocks. In a way, it reminds me of the Caribbean, though it's as if the colors have been muted, and the lines have been blurred by the brush of a water colors painter. I should be in Nice within the next hour, and I'm very excited.

I'm in Marseille!

I'm following in the footsteps of Edmond Dantes! And, I'm on a boat!

So, the Marseille post...

After a surprisingly fast train ride (even though we were precisely on time, it still seems like 3 hours to cross basically all of France is fast), we arrived in Marseille. We managed to hoof it the few blocks to the hotel. It is so fantastically warm in Marseille, and I finally felt warm after the wet and chilly week in Paris.

Boats and forts, and beyond that, the sea!

Walking along the Vieux Port of Marseille, you're affronted with a manner of smells. It smells like faraway breezes from the Sea, like the fresh fish the vendors sell on tables, with their fishing boats bobbing in the port behind them. Up a few streets, you find open-air fruit and vegetable markets, flower stands with tiny plants whose signs say "adopt me!" and long narrow shops practically overflowing with bins of couscous and grain, and shelves loaded with jars of spices I've never heard of.

Monday, we went exploring. Heading up the hill to the Abbaye St. Victor, you can see the sailboats sitting in port, the fortresses surrounding the city, and the juxtaposition of 15th century architecture next to the 20th century rebuilding that happened after the city was mostly demolished in WWII.

This thing is ancient and still formidable.

The Abbaye is really incredible, considering it was built in the 5th century and is still there. The giant ceilings and dark sense of antiquity gave me a feeling that I was in a place like in the end of "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade." It was way cool. They have a tour of the crypts, but I just wasn't quite up to it.

Dinner was an incredible Tunisian restaurant, with lamb couscous, and a generous helping of harissa. We made friends with the guy at the table next to us, and with his ok English and my surprisingly ok French, had a pretty cool conversation.

Tuesday we decided that it was time. Time to set aside my now battered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, and go to the Chateau d'If (pronounced eef not if). A ferry boat takes you to the Isle If, where you can explore the prison and the island, which is more rock than land. Think of it as a several hundred year precursor to Alcatraz.

Bienvenue a le ROCK.

In the prison, several exhibits were dedicated to Edmond Dantes -- the most famous prisoner of If, who is, in fact, fictional. Additionally, the Man in the Iron Mask, who is real, was never actually imprisoned in the Chateau d'If.

Walking in the place immortalized by Dumas was simply incredible. Surrounded by the Mediterranean, every angle of If offered a beautiful view.

Sailboats and tiny rocky islands in a beautiful blue sea.

Marseille is a city of incredible combinations of new and old, faraway spices and French flair, ancient nobility and casual living. It's a true melting pot, with French history influenced by whatever the trade winds continue to bring. Truly gorgeous. Tomorrow, Mom departs for home, and I head on to Nice. Au revoir, mama, and bonjour, la cote d'azur!