Today (Thursday, April 10) Marlene has been gone since 10:00 am (7 hours thus far), with a hair appointment and lunch with a friend. Thus, your reporter has had ample opportunity to catch up on getting little things completed, and even then at a vary s...l...o....w pace. It’s another sunny 80 degree day, so there are no complaints. You’re correct, there isn’t much to do. I took a long walk again (nursing a sore hamstring, so not jogging at the moment), but that only takes less than one hour for the two mile journey. So, it’s clean-up time, gathering up some photos that did not make the story line back when they were originally taken. But, sometimes the best meal is the meal made up of leftovers.
We drove Sophia, Keaka and some of their classmates to a Shakespeare play in Marseille last evening, so it gave us an excuse to dine in the big city. We went to Pizzeria Chez Etienne (run by a Sicilian family), located in a very old neighborhood of sketchy repute and site of some filming of the 1971 movie French Connection. This place was tough to find and advertised as very “local” (photos coming sometime in the future). It was that. We arrived at 7:15 and only one of about 20 tables was taken. By just after 8:00 pmevery table was taken, as was the case when we departed at 9:00 am. Every table seemed to order pizza with a beef dish. Only two kinds of pizza – cheese or anchovy (no cheese, just red sauce). We had cheese and it was very good. We also had a serving of lamb chops, which were also good, to say nothing of the wine. They say in Naples, Italy that they basically only make cheese pizza.
Getting to the photos, see a typical poster for McDonalds. The angle always seems to be “American”, even when it is a stretch. And, in case you were wondering what a French electrical outlet looks like, we’ve provided you a look. Remember we’ve mentioned how the French do a lot of walking. Many folks seem to lack a car and use public transportation and/or the good old shoe leather. Touring Marseille one day, we walked into a hardware store in the center of the city. Right near the front door was this big group of shopping carts for sale. Believe me, so many people have them, as they walk from home to the grocery store. I’m guessing you’d be hard pressed to easily find such a cart to purchase in most U.S. cities. As backwards as things seem here at times, the French do some things that make a lot of sense. Their garbage collection is well thought out. You see lots of “community collection sites”, as folks live in situations where there’s no room for outside garbage cans and no access for garbage trucks. In centre ville (downtown) Aix-en-Provence, there are numerous underground garbage cans. Merchants and residents bring the garbage to the site, lift the metal top (which is like a glorified manhole cover) and dump their garbage in. When the garbage is collected the garbage can is simply lifted. This may exist all over the United States, but if it does I’ve somehow missed it. Womens basketball is pretty popular around the world and it is no different here in France. There are two womens pro leagues in France, with a number of former U.S. college players. Aix-en Provence has a team in the Ligue 2, which is a minor league below Ligue 1. We’ve gone to a few games and Sophia posed for a photo with one of the players. Keaka is a bit of a comedian, with his best talent being his ability to do voices, especially his Indian man. However, he can roll his eyes in seventy-seven directions and did it with his Mom, caught on camera. And, to carry on and hopefully end a theme, in the main underground parking lot in Aix-en Provence they have mens urinals on each floor. You can see they are pretty much out in the open. Marlene headed to the door leading to a stairway one day, not knowing what was next to the door, and wondered what the man was doing in there. I had to explain. It seems a strange location for urinals, but it is better than simply doing it out in the open.
We leave for Rome, Naples and the Amalfi Coast one week from tomorrow. It should be interesting. I figure a few pizzas in Rome and a visit to at least three pizza restaurants during our two-day stay in Naples (where they say the pizza originated).
The Wilsons
