Take My Picture By the Pool (Or, Saint Tropez, the Beverly Hills of France)

I'm a bit behind on the blog, in part because this week was full and wonderful, but also tiring, and so I've needed every bit of my "down time" to recover from all the fun I've had. And also because my children have been hideous monsters during the last two days, and it's been all I could do to keep us all from strangling each other. Perhaps it's poor form to calls one's children monsters on the Internet, where any old person and his brother can read it (though I think I crossed that bridge in my last post), but I would hardly be presenting our trip honestly if I pretended traveling with the youngsters has been all roses and rainbows. At any rate, I don't know if it's the change in environment and time zone, the absence of any reliable routine, or simply the fact that we're expecting so much of them on a daily basis while we travel (though I suspect it's a combination of all of these factors), but the sweet and adjustable dispositions they exhibited during weeks one and two have evaporated, and all hell seems to occasionally break loose. Yesterday was one of the worst days in my parenting memory. Finn ran away from me at a park and refused to come back home with me. There were at least two full-out screaming-mimi tantrums. And Virginia didn't go to sleep until 10:30 p.m. Whew. So, kind readers, you see why I'm behind in the blog. Happily, today has been much better. We decided to keep the kids "in" over the last three days because of the bad behavior, and perhaps the more relaxed expectations and time to just play with their toys in their space has finally caught up with them and we're back on the right track. And if not, at least it's socially acceptable to begin drinking before noon here in France.

Now, onto catching up on the other adventures we've had this week. On Friday Nathan gave me the gift of the whole day sans les enfants, and so I tagged along with Ross on his trip to Saint Tropez. We caught the bus early and were in Saint Tropez by 9:15 a.m.

Saint Tropez is, like Hyeres, situated with an ancient city in its center, though the culture of the two towns could not be more different. If I had to make a comparison, I'd say Saint Tropez is the Beverly Hills of France. It's chi-chi, the harbor crowded with oversized yachts and their uniformed staffs and stylishly-clad owners. There are swanky bars and restaurants, upscale boutiques, as well as the recognizably elite stores--like Hermes and Chanel. It is all tres chic, and definitely fun for a day trip, though I'm glad we're staying in Hyeres and not Saint Tropez full-time.

Here's a bit of the harbor:

We arrived early enough to catch the fish market, which was packed up entirely by noon. It was bustling, though, at 9:30 in the morning. I even got splashed with a bit of sea-water at one of the fish mongers flopped a fresh catch out on the ice as I passed his stall.

The flower market was just opening as we arrive too, and it was flush with beautiful blooms. Apparently this region is the center of fresh flower production in France.

Our first stop, after coffee, was to the town's citadelle.

As we climbed the hill to the citadelle, we passed this wonderfully gnarled olive tree--one of the oldest in town.

Here's a portion of the ancient ville.

The citadelle is up on a hill overlooking the harbor.

The views, clearly, are stunning.

I was fascinated by the old canons still in place at the citadelle. They are another example of how no detail escapes attention here.

The handles you can see on the canon tops here are in the shape of jumping fish.

And then there was this guy at the "head" of one of the canons. Not a friendly face to encounter.

On the way back down to the village, we spotted this lovely little square. The bougainvillea was in full flower, and in a one of those rare, stunning, look-now-or-you'll-miss-it moments, I caught a woman on a top floor balcony sweeping a shower of purple petals earthward.

This next photo is perhaps less picturesque, but it captures part of the foreign experience I haven't yet covered--Turkish toilets. This one's a 20-cent public bathroom on the marina.

Again, the harbor, looking back toward the village.

The smallest of the boats--though, in my opinion, the prettiest.

Ross and I stopped for lunch at a restaurant he'd found in the old part of the village. I had a delicious salade nicoise that I won't soon forget. Following that, we made our way to le Musee de l'Annonciade, which is currently featuring an exhibit of paintings by Henri Manguin, many of them landscapes of Saint Tropez, where Manguin kept a summer residence for most of his adult life.

Afterward, we killed time waiting for the bus by finding a little beach just off the marina where we could put our feet into the cool water of the Mediterranean. It was the perfect anecdote to the afternoon heat and tired feet.

And to add icing to the cake, the sand of this beach was sparkling with green beach-glass--more of it than I've ever seen on a beach. I pocketed a few pretty pieces to take home as souvenirs.

You can't tell, but my feet are actually under water here. The water was literally crystal clear.