Saying Goodbye to our Special Place

We all have that special place— “our happy place” as I’ve seen it referred to in scrap books and TV commercials. It’s a place where our kids are free to be themselves, to run around with abandon because their friends aren’t watching. A place I don’t wear makeup because my friends aren’t watching. We all have these places where we’ve made great memories for our families. The kids stay up late playing cards or eating ice cream. We watch movies in bed. We wake up late and stay on the porch too long. 

Maybe it’s because we’re on vacation and left the day-to-day back at home- the rushing around and the housework; the “should dos” instead of the “can dos.” Maybe it’s because the place is full of other people on vacation and everyone is in a good mood— a spending mood, a laughing mood.

Where would we be without these places? We all need to recharge. We need to find a place that is just enough “other” that we can encounter the extraordinary in ourselves and our families. Siblings play with each other and spouses hold hands. It’s just that perfect place and it’s ours for a week or two, or maybe a weekend, or maybe the summer.

I was feeling indulgent to come to our place for six weeks, even doubting if I could find enough to do— learn enough, see enough and explore enough. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I felt like I had to justify this big trip and this long vacation. With such a big investment of time and money, I put pressure on myself to demonstrate some returns— improved French, better manners, seasoned travelers. When Taylor arrived, I set aside the agenda and planned a family vacation for the week that he was here. 

We did all of those things we always do on family vacations. When he left, the boys and I just stayed in vacation mode. We went on side trips and spoke French. But in letting go of my desire (my worry?) to find enough to do, I could just be in this special place.  I remembered that these places have their own magic because of the shared experiences of a family, whether we’re learning or seeing or exploring, we are being — together.

As I pack up the swimsuits (and the macarons, and the tuna belly, and the olives), I realize that this special place always comes through for us: it gives us confidence and freedom, it helps us find what we love in each other and it brings out the best in us. 

Old Time Religion?

When we’re in France, we’re Catholic. I don’t want to give up on attending church just because we’re in a foreign country; plus, Catholicism was a huge component of French identity, and still influences everything. 

Amazing artwork in Biot church

Culturally this country is so Catholic that they still believe it’s inappropriate to cut bread at the dinner table— a custom explained to me as symbolic of the eucharist. Even though most French abandoned their organized religion decades ago, we are very much in a Catholic country. So it’s important to experience the Catholic church service as part of life in France.

Of course, we’re not Catholic; we’re Episcopalian. Until a few years ago, we could just attend an Anglican church. But Taylor and I have taught our children that the love of God is so big that it includes enough love for everyone; and that’s a lesson that not all of our Anglican friends have caught on to. In fact, they’ve put us Episcopalians in time out. The Roman Catholics believe that non-Catholics can’t share in their sacraments, but without offending my Catholic friends, I think that’s their problem, not mine. Catholic it is then.

During our first week here, I spotted a sign advertising the Festival of the Virgin Mary of Good Ports- she protects the area ports, sailors and fishermen. The picture showed a big Virgin Mary hoisted up on a platform being carried through the streets of town by barefoot men. How many travel shows have featured one of these processions? I’ve even seen them in James Bond movies— we gotta check it out! 

Now perhaps some of yo remember the “How much Suffering can one Family Endure” post from 2014. Here I go dragging my kids to another crazy religious service where they don’t understand a word and can’t really tell what’s going on. They are probably going to end up in a religious cult one day because I’ve normalized the idea of joining in on religious ceremonies even when you have no idea what’s going on (spoiler alert- no Koolaid was served). 

It was Saturday night and we met in front of the Cathedral. A service was already going on inside so we waited outside. I still wasn’t sure what the procession was all about, but I was disappointed to learn that the Virgin was an early riser (and I am not). Tonight’s parade was to be led by a cross and a small band. She would make her appearance at 6:30 the next morning for a procession from the top of the lighthouse hill all the way down the Chemin de la Croix (of 2014 fame) and then down to the Cathedral. Alas, we’d have to settle for the cross. After a bunch of waiting around, no one looked like they were in charge; then a priest came up on a moto, robes a-flappin, parked and walked over. I guess he was late. 

Let's get this party started...

Following these guys down the streets of Antibes to the Port.

I took a bunch of pictures as we walked along through the streets from the Cathedral to the port, cars honking and people coming to look at us. I couldn’t help wondering if all of the tourists were looking at us and thinking about what good (weird) French Catholics we were to be spending our Saturday night marching in a procession. As I was taking pictures, Cooper really seemed to be getting into the solemnity of it all. Either that or he wanted the pictures to look very authentic.

When we got to the place overlooking the Gravette Beach, there was a pile of wood with a tree stuck in it. The boat; I guess the tree was the mast. I couldn’t help wondering if this was like the University of Miami homecoming— there’s a legend about which side the mast falls on it, but I think I always get it backwards. Anyway, there were some songs sung and prayers said. My boys were all well behaved and I think the older church-going French ladies looked on with approval. 

We went to mass about a week later and I thought I would help the kids follow along and learn some French prayers, so I downloaded French catholic prayers. They weren’t in order, so I had to skip around on my phone a bunch during service. I am not sure what the other church goers thought of the mom staring at her phone for the whole service, but I can only imagine. I asked the boys what they thought and Samuel said-‘mom, it doesn’t matter if you understand what’s going on in a French church because there’s always plenty to look at.” To which Cooper added- “yeah mom, I don’t know what’s going on at church at home, so it’s kind of like the same thing.” Bennett complained about French church about the same amount that he complains about our church. 

I have to say they were better behaved in French church; I think it was because they were so confused, they were just listening intently for some familiar words.

Waiting for mass to start- my good little (fake) catholics

The next Sunday, I decided to download the words to the ENTIRE mass in French. Awesome. In order, easy to follow. We got to church on time, got leaflets with the hymns and grabbed the readings in French and English. Ready to go— no surprises this time. Again, I would be staring down at my phone a lot, but at least we would have all of the words in front of us so we could follow along. Yeah- there was a Baptism. We were screwed.

OK, so it wasn’t all in order, but Cooper said he thought it was pretty special to see a Baptism. Bennett thought it went exactly the same, only they used less water. They are very good at reducing their consumption in France, so it was logical that they would use some conservation even for a sacrament. 

Cooper was disappointed both times that no wine was given to the congregation; only the priests got wine with Eucharist. I thought that was pretty weird considering that wine is cheaper and more plentiful here; but it has nothing to do with that. Apparently that’s the way they do it here.

All and all, pretending to be Catholic isn’t too bad. I sort of think the French Catholic church needs a little Carrie Short. Many of the churches are in serious disrepair and a lot of them frankly need a good cleaning.  I can’t get over the sad state of many of the churches we visit. Even the Cathedral in Antibes needs a lot of TLC. 

I could name a dozen historic chapels and churches where the walls were literally crumbling and artwork has been repaired with tape. The Chapel in Moustiers-Saint Marie is a French heritage site and gets thousands of visitors a year; but apparently still has problems raising money for the upkeep. I’m sure it’s not cheap to maintain a 600 year old building. 

Keeping things dark in Moustiers-Saint Marie so you can't see how the walls are crumbling

Church membership continues to decline here and tourists alone can’t pay to maintain church buildings. Of course it is sad to see congregations fold, but also very sad to see the churches fall into disrepair or be repurposed. 

I think it must be hard to support your country’s zealous commitment to separation of church and state while watching examples of your cultural heritage disintegrate in your own community.

Faux marble is crumbling in this church in Eze

I hope next time I’m here pretending to be “one of them,” the Catholic church has found some way to restore its appeal in French culture and not simply as historical markers.

If you (Give a Mouse a) Road Trip...

If you go on a little road trip to have fun, you'll have to cross over some mountains. To get to the mountains, you'll probably need to navigate some roundabouts. The roundabouts will get so confusing that you might get lost. A couple of times. When you get lost, you'll probably need to take a few u-turns. The u-turns will be difficult because you are in the middle of nowhere. Being in the middle of nowhere will upset your kids. When your kids get upset, they’ll start crying. When the kids cry, it will piss you off. You might start to yell. 

When you yell, you’ll have to remind yourself that you are on vacation. So you start joking around to make everyone happy again.  When you joke around, you may stop paying attention to how many kilometers you've traveled. You're probably going to get lost again, which means you need to take some more u-turns. 

When you take more u-turns, one of your kids will probably get car sick. That will make you think about that beach towel you packed in case someone gets car sick. You'll probably start thinking about how smart you are to bring a beach towel to the mountains. Just when you’re thinking about how smart you are, you’ll probably notice that you're not in the mountains. You're still lost. You may even have to drive the wrong way down a one way street. 

Going the wrong way down the street will make you feel like a stupid American in a Chevy Chase movie. You may start to laugh. Laughing will make you have to pee, so you’ll look for a public bathroom. Because you are in France, you're not going to find a public bathroom. So you’ll go to a parimutuel bar to use the bathroom. When you go to a bar to use the bathroom, you have to buy a Coke. For everyone. 

The Coke will make the car sick child feel better. Until you get to the mountains. When you approach the mountains, your going to have to take some hairpin turns. You'll start turning. And turning. The car sick child will probably need to puke into the beach towel. When he pukes in the beach towel, you might not think buying him a Coke was a good idea. You'll start doubting your choices. 

When you doubt your choices, you may express doubt to your spouse. When you express doubt to your spouse, your children will smell your uncertainty. They'll start bitching and questioning why we are going to the mountains to mountain bike when they don't even mountain bike. You might start to worry even more. You’ll worry until you cross the mountain pass with a view of the natural gorges and lake. The view of the lake will make everyone feel better.  

The lake will remind the kids that they like to swim. They’re probably going to ask you for their swimsuits. When you remember that you packed the bathing suits, you’ll also realize that there's only one beach towel-- and it's covered in Coke puke. Thinking about the beach towel will remind you that you’re going mountain biking, not the beach. 

You’ll start looking for the mountain biking place. And you’ll get lost. Getting lost will remind your kids that this sucks and so does mountain biking. You’ll probably start to worry again. Worrying will upset your husband who navigates you to a little town. Seeing the little town will remind the kids that they don’t want to go mountain biking anyway; and you’ll insist on buying a map. Buying a map will probably give your husband just enough time alone in the car to find your way on the GPS. You’ll start driving. 

When you stop driving, you’ll be greeted by a messy looking caretaker. The caretaker will make you think you made another bad decision. You may start worrying again. Worrying will remind you that you’re hungry. You’ll ask the caretaker guy for time to have a picnic. He’ll look at his watch. When he looks at his watch, he’s going to tell you that you’re over an hour late. You’ll have to eat quickly. 

After a quick lunch, you’ll be ready for the mountain biking. When you see the caretaker guy, he’s changed into his biking outfit. He’s probably going to be your guide. He’ll start teaching you how to mountain bike. In French. 

When you mountain bike in France, you’re probably going to see some lavender fields. And they’re beautiful. The beautiful lavender fields will remind you that even if you don’t love mountain biking, this is a cool way to see the sites up close. You may even see the mountains and gorges from the trail. Being on the trail will remind you that you don’t know how to ride a mountain bike off road. You might get a little scared. Being scared will be fun for the kids. They’ll probably have a great time and not want the mountain bike tour to end. But it does end. 

When it ends, you’ll start driving to your hotel. You won’t get lost. Seeing the hotel will make the kids ask to jump in the pool. They’re going to need their bathing suits. When you get their bathing suits, you’ll see the Coke puke beach towel. You'll probably want to wash it. You’ll start washing. And washing. When the towel is clean, you’ll need to hang it on the balcony. When you’re on the balcony, you’ll see the kids in the pool having fun. When you see them having fun, you’ll remember that you’re on vacation and you should have fun too. 

And when you think about having fun on your vacation, you plan a little road trip.