Hair and Hairs: Eindhoven, Amsterdam

Des Cheveux and des Poils, Paris, summer 2023.

Hair and Hairs, or Des Cheveux and des Poils, was Nikki and my choice for an exhibition at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs in Paris when we visited in August. It felt so right, Nikki is a stylist and loves all things hair. The exhibition looked at the long history and trends of hairstyles, facial and body hair as well as celebrating the relationship between art, fashion and hair over the centuries. 

It was completely absorbing, just a little bit quirky and at times totally wierd too.

Here I am back in Eindhoven, nine weeks since we were in Paris, at Nikki's studio in the trendy Plan B complex focusing on my hair which has taken a beating over the last three months. A gentle wash and conditioning, a little mousse and wax, and a lot pampering by Niks. 

It got me recalling the exhibition and remembering how much fun we had! Thanks Niks for good days.

Having a good hair day!
#hairbynikolakersten

Last weekend in France: In love with Lille

A fitting image to round off our RWC road trip in France

It's been a while since I have felt completely joyful in a city and today I fell in love with Lille. And no one is more surprised than me either. It started with this "Colonne de la Deesse" statue on the Place du General-de-Gaulle holding a massive rugby ball which made us smile and appreciate a city with both attitude and a sense of humour. 

What a fitting image to close off our road trip to France for the 2023 Rugby World Cup.

The Old Stock Exchange,
old city of Lille from the mid-1600's

The Grand'Place is the main square in the city surrounded by colourful and flamboyant historic buildings like the Vieille Bourse de Lille. 

The old town is beautifully restored, and its prosperous past is reflected now in a fabulous rambling shopping precinct and its a foodie heaven too. We admired the chocolate Halloween masterpieces, behaved like the youngsters and queued for frites, browsed jewellery stores for the right colour earrings and bought a delicious brioche for morning coffee.

It's school holidays here and the city was bustling and I found the crowds were energising as we happily walked the cobbled pedestrian streets of Vieux Lille for hours.

The bustle of the Vieux-Lille.

 

Signature red brick buildings of Lille with gold embellishment

Badlands of the Haute-Loire: Ravins de Corboeuf, Rosieres

Panorama of the Ravins de Corboeuf

2014, Death Valley and the searing heat of its iconic Badlands.

Fred's photo shows the fascinating volcanic landscapes in this part of France with the perfectly shaped cone volcanoes and the ravine formed by wind and water over millennia. 

It took me straight back to Death Valley in California and the vast stretches of Badlands. 

The Ravins de Corboeuf, are the Badlands of the Haute-Loire and the scale is vastly different but not so the impact.

We did an interesting walk around the perimeter, made even more interesting by missing the path and walking double the distance - sure made the picnic taste a whole lot better!

I notice how happy I am when in nature away from cars and the busyness of being in a city or town.  

Exploring the geography and geology around me is endlessly fascinating. And to get to see a classic 'badlands', with its fragile multicoloured clay heavily serrated and eroded, was a bonus indeed.

Colour detail.

Beautiful eroded forms

Finding Truffade: Le Puy-en-Velay

Famous truffade indeed

There is the classic French Gratin Dauphinois which a served as a side dish. It is undoubtedly a treat and a delicious way to serve potatoes.  But when the Australian Masterchef judges say 'take it to the next level' that is when you get close to truffade.

We are in Le Puy-en-Velay ambling around the old village, it's a cold evening and I can sense Fred's nerves about the South Africa vs England RWC semi-final that is looming large. By a small stroke of magic we select a restaurant that is only servicing one hot dish and some salads, and it was the hot dish I had been looking out for, truffade.

A Haute-Loire regional speciality of thinly sliced potatoes smothered in melted Tome fraiche and a regional cheese called Cantal, oven baked in a metal dish with a side of jambon cru and dressed salad leaves. Having spent the day outdoors exploring the Puy pilgrim sites with the wind biting and not having enough layers with me to feel snug, this dish was comfort food heaven and deservedly famous. 

I also found my 'green gold' of the Haute-Loire at the morning market, the also famous Puy lentils which are the only lentils that have their own appellation. 
 

Sidebar: We are in a part of France where rugby holds neither interest nor fascination. We looked at a few sports bars for Fred to enjoy the semi-final and none of them appealed. So we are watching the game on the local TF 1 channel in our apartment, not much rugby atmosphere and a frustrating game. We sneaked into the final.

All about Provencal fragrances: Fragonard and L'Occitane

 

Another must do for me when I am in Provence is fragrance for Shawni and for me. 

It's her birthday soon so what better than a visit to Fragonard in the village of Eze on the Cote d'Azur to choose a new parfum for her and their new Narcisse range for me.

And today was our 'pilgrimage' to the L'Occitane headquarters and factory in Manosque not far from us here in Sisteron (no coincidence either!). 

Such a treat to fill my basket with their wonderful products. I no longer shop for much but I can certainly shop for body and face products with gay abandon.

Walking the dragon spine: La Citadelle, Sisteron

Upper ramparts of the Citadel of Sisteron

Glorously perched between heaven and rock, with the orange and red Sisteron flags flying in the ever-present wind, this walkway was exhilarating. 

The rock around which the citadel is shaped has a forever history as a fortified place, its been badly treated in every era but is now lovingly restored, cared for and valued by its town. 

It was a privilege to walk and enjoy the space.

Impressive bastion walls

Rocher de la Baume: Sisteron

Rocher de la Baume, Sisteron

We have started our slow return road trip north and leaving the light, warmth and sparkle of the Med yesterday felt harder when we arrived to the cooler windy weather here in Sisteron and had to resettle into a new space and find our feet again. 

The drive through the Alps-de-Haute-Provence had been a treat with it's a pared back colour palate of muted dry greens and greys, the lavender fields have been harvested and are resting. 

This part of France has a remarkable geological history and too complicated to even begin to remember, so I just look in awe. No wonder this is a UNESCO Geoparc. 

I had decided on Sisteron as a stop-over because of its natural beauty and remarkable 4000 years of history.

As we walked into town from our accommodation the Baume Rock slowly came into view, with the Durance River at its base and the formation of the gorge with the Citadel Rock on the opposite bank. 

The sun came out and we felt lighter, invigorated and ready for whatever the day held for us. 

The power of nature worked its magic.

 

The gorge of Sisteron, historical gateway into Provence.

The "Pearl of France" revisited: Menton

'Les Rampes de Saint Michel',  the staircase to the Basilica in Menton

My first outing to Menton felt as though I was shucking oysters and not finding the pearl in this so called "Pearl of France". I was weary, it was hot, we kept walking around in circles to find the Basilica, which we had already found and it was closed, then accidentally walked the famous 'les rampes', at that point I realised I was jaded by it all.

I was also so struck that my dear friend Michelle in the US, who completely loves Menton, was going to be in this place in a few weeks time and that we were missing each other. I was almost grumpy with the universe for these bizarre circumstances and poor timing. 

I did the next best thing, asked her to plan my return visit with all her favourites and what makes her love Menton. 

So from her must do's about food and everyday living:

• I bought the freshest Italian Taggiasca hand pressed virgin olive oil directly from the farmer at the Ventimiglia Mercato Coperto ...
• I bought his last season lemons from his tree, and I noticed how I felt about these gnarly looking lemons...
• In Menton I chased down her favourite honey boutique and bought the 'Miel & Citron' as this is the capital of lemon growers...
• Then down the alley to Maison Herbin for Lemon Marmalade and Fred loved the tart lemonade on sale too...
• Then the Les Halles Market for fresh produce and an assortment of deli items for our antipasto this evening...
• Last night we caught the train to Menton and choose our pizza spot. Another foodie treat and better than our pizza choice in Ventimiglia today...
• And of course gelato, a dark delicious frutti di bosco...

Thanks Mich for introducing me to your French 'pearl', I get it now and I noticed the special umbrella spot...I miss you.

A return visit: Apricus Osteria and Bar, Apricale

The approach to Apricale, breathtaking even on the second viewing

There is a spaciousness about having a week in one place and that has always been the pleasure of our timeshare swops around the world. 

Ambling through the village

Here on the Cote d'Azur we are nestled between Nice and Menton with Italy on our doorstep. 

We have appreciated the choices of how to put our days together and yesterday we got to go back to Apricale, the hilltop Ligurian village, for another round of delicious food and another amble through the ancient old streets. 

It's a rare treat to return to an isolated destination like Apricale and I am so mindful that these set of circumstances that find us here, are unlikely to happen again.

And what a difference to Sunday. 

The crowds had dissipated, there were no rally drivers revving up the narrow steep streets, we got to breathe in the milder more humid air and to just take in so much more of the detail of the thousand years of history in this village. 

We even found the ancient communal bread ovens, the villagers would prepare their dough and come to the 'forno' for the baking, it was used until the 1940's when the last baker stopped his fine trade.

Apricus details.

Once again we ate with joy, my burrata and fresh peaches were a perfect late summer starter and equally Fred's carpaccio was delicious. We just happily sat back with the views of Apricale and had our courses.

We also took the opportunity to natter to the maitre d about their relationship with Chef Jan and he shared lots of stories and news which was entertaining indeed and we shared a good laugh.

Sidebar: we have a late afternoon swim here at Le Golfe Bleu which is such a treat after a day out and of course after all the delicious food. We have been meeting people too at the pool. So yesterday we had a note taped to our door, an invitation for a sundowner. The American couple on our floor have owned a unit here for 25 years and it's setting is one of the best in the complex. It sure was lovely to sit back and take in the sunset, watch all the lights come on in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin with conversation rolling from one topic to another. 

A train ride: colourful Nice

Nice Port from the Colline du Chateau

What a treat to take the train into Nice today, the hassle free way to navigate this beautiful Cote d'Azur and to take in the scenery without watching the navigation aid or the traffic!

There  is something magical about the colours of Nice, the warm biscuit and yellow tones, the orange hues, the acid greens and all the way to hot pink. 

If we had to use this palette back home we would 'dial it back', it's the soft Mediterranean light that all makes it work.

It's a visual delight.

Shawni and Craig had spent some time in Old Nice during their recent stay. It was our turn today, we ambled around, and of course stopped for a Salade Nicoise, as one has to and needs too. 

Even with the temperatures hovering near the 30's we followed the paths up to the viewing points on the Colline du Chateau, for these remarkable perspectives of this iconic city on the Mediterranean.

Old Nice for lunch

Promenade des Anglais from the Colline du Chateau

A Sunday lunch in Italy: Apricale

 

One of Chef Jan's favourite getaway spot, the Italian town of Apricale

I watched season 1 of Jan some years back. 

I remember being completely taken by an aerial shoot of a hilltop Italian town nestled in the Ligurian Alps in one of the episodes (and the haunting soundtrack is magnificent too). The South African Chef, with his Michelin star restaurant in Nice, has a real affinity and love for this little village which he calls his 'happy food place'.

Our happy food place, buffalo mozzarella caprese,
borage and ricotta ravioli with butter and sage,
panne cotta.

So Fred and I are based in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin and instead of lazying on a Med beach today, or doing what the French do on Sundays, we headed off into the Ligurian hills to find our own happy food place in Apricale. 

And we did, in fact we plan to return a few times and have one of Jan's favourite places booked for Wednesday, Apricus.

Its the simplicity of excellent fresh ingredients treated well that makes for happy food, nothing superfluous and everything paired with ease.  

The village is on the list of the most beautiful villages in Italy. I can certainly appreciate why, the tiny alleyways, the arched passageways, the ancient houses and the cobbled staircases give Apricale a unique charm.

Charming Apricale, Western Liguria, Italy.

Les Bignous: Salies-du-Salat

Rest and enjoy was the advise from June and we certainly did.

We had the gift of a home in the Haute-Garonne for a gentle and restorative retreat. Certainly a far cry from the crowds and busyness of both the Marseille and Paris rugby weekends. 

We stayed close for some of the time, an ice cream from Kimglace, the plat du jour at Local 90, baguettes from our favourite boulangerie, Fred gardened and pruned, I cooked, we swam and walked.  We also explored the area, riding the impressive Pyrenees passes, we hiked, we took in the serenity of the churches, enjoyed the villages and it was all a deep pleasure.

It was a place to have family time too, long sunny summer days with Craig, Shawni, James and Kirstie, swimming, swing ball, walking into the village for provisions, the Monday morning market, a braai and just spending time together.

A family at play.

 

Flying the flag: the RWC 2023 conversations happen wherever we are

Flying the flag wherever we land...

It may seem quiet about the RWC here on the blog, but it's not the case in reality. Fred is avidly watching, tracking developments, watching replays and commentaries, making predictions...and as only Fred can chatting to anyone and everyone who seems even as vaguely passionate as he is about the rugby. 

The latest example was in the lift going to the 3rd floor of the Guggenheim Bilbao and Fred spotted an Irish supporter wearing his rather faded old jersey. Well that was all it took and a half a later I eventually prised him away, still blocking the path of art lovers, while the two of them excitedly made predictions for the win. 

So the next keenly awaited game is Scotland vs Ireland and by then we would have travelled all the way east across France to set up home in Cap Martin for a week.

Meet Puppy, world's largest flower sculpture: Guggenheim Museum Bilbao

Puppy, Jeff Koons, stainless steel, soil and flowering plants
Entrance to the Guggenheim Bilbao

Puppy at the entrance to the Guggenheim here in Bilbao.

Thousands of colourful begonias, impatiens, daisies and greenery make up Puppy as he stands with dignified attention at the main entrance to the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. 

The museum's faithful guard dog.

A monumental piece and also a monument to the sentimental - puppies and flowers. 

He makes me smile and I cannot wait to get back for another look this morning.

 

Tulips, also by Jeff Koons, could not be more different to Puppy. A bouquet of high gloss colourful balloon flowers blown to gigantic proportions.

Tulips, stainless steel balloons!

Snowy owl moments: 'Maman' at the Guggenheim, Bilbao

'Maman', bronze by Louise Bourgeois, Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

There are times on long extended overseas travel when it's too easy to compromise, it's easier to say no for whatever reason, Fred and I call these decision moments, Sharon's 'snowy owl'. We had been travelling across Canada and Alaska for a couple of months and had arrived back in Anchorage, a couple of days earlier than expected, after a particularly arduous birding trip out to the Pribilof Islands.

I thought about planning a trip up north to Barrow, the furtherest northern community in the USA and an excellent sighting spot for the Snowy Owl. But I didn't. We went bear watching, glacier viewing, cooked salmon and halibut instead, all special but I have yet to see a Snowy Owl, a must on any birders' list.

It was a decision where I settled, rather than being bold and following what I really wanted to do.

And here we are, in Bilbao, Fred having driven across the 380km from Salies-du-Salat, and this is not a snowy owl moment, we braved traffic, a parking garage, signs we cannot read to get to the Guggenheim this evening as heavy rain is predicted all day tomorrow - our museum day.

I have just experienced what I have desired to see and do, which is to experience the power of art,  'Maman'! 

'Maman' is monumental, 9m in height, predatory but protective of her sac full of eggs. 

She hovered above me on those bronze spindly legs which are like Gothic arches, she is powerful and fragile. 

Happy and grateful.

'Maman' looking towards the bridge.

We buy cheese from a farmer: Aire de Lacq Audejos

Ewe's milk cheese, direct from the farmer.

As we fly along the motorways with a destination in mind we pop into an 'aire', a motorway stop, to picnic, to have a break and we don't expect to be either delighted or surprised - it's functional at best.

Today we pulled into an aire and I set up the table while Fred wandered off to find the coffees. A man approached me carrying a cooler box and my South African response kicked in, 'what does he want, I'm not available for anything'! 

He is a sheep farmer, and makes cheese, he also pops over to the aire at lunch time and sells his cheese. What a complete delight to say yes, we tried the ewe's milk cheese, well matured, nutty, fragrant and had some for lunch. 

I asked a few times for the name of the cheese and I could not decipher the reply - but he mentioned it's regional and between two valleys, and I figure it's the name of the aire, so its fromage de brebis Lacq Audejos, and completely delicious.

Mountains are soul food: Col du Tourmalet

The majestic Col du Tourmalet

The tortuous paved roads of the Col du Tourmalet

'le traffic' - Saturday out and about on the Col

We headed out into the mountains today, time to follow the Tour de France climbs again. Our quest was to experience the famed Col du Tourmalet, one of the highest paved mountain passes in the French Pyrenees,  with an elevation of 2115m, and the most included climb on the Tour, over 70 times.

What a surprise to see how pastoral the landscape is, shaped by centuries of mountain farming, the cows and sheep graze freely and were holding up the cyclists and traffic up the pass every now and again! 

Even more quirky was a flock of llamas who also survive in the high mountain pastures up at La Mongie and even up to the high cross-over point of the Col.

It's certainly a beautiful route and the Pyrenees are green gentle giants with their soaring ragged peaks. 

What an experience to remember.

Quirky sight of Llamas on the approach to the high point of the drive

The magnificence of a walk in the Haute-Pyrenees: Col d'Aspin

Crocuses in the high altitude pastures on Col d'Aspin

'Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, and the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.' 

Soren Kierkegaard. Book: The Essential Kiekegaard

This quote from Natalie is a daily reminder to me to move and to walk, and we had the best possible place to walk yesterday, the French Pyrenees. Our trail started at the high point of the Col d'Aspin, 1485m, in the Haute-Pyrenees. The quiet and sunlit dappled route through the pine tree forest en route to the high point was just a little bit magical. 

Quiet magnificence

The farmers bring their cattle and sheep up into high pastures in summer so we were accompanied by cow bells along the trail too. 

The purple crocus flowers with their orange centres were in full bloom and seem so carefree the way they pop out of the ground and relish the sun. 

We were treated to views of the Pic du Midi observatory along the way and once we passed through the forest the panoramic views of the Pyrenees were our reward. 

On the path with Pic du Midi so clear

Pastoral beauty

There was a moment on the trail, when I had pushed a bit too hard, felt breathless and teary, and then Fred just held me for a moment, we breathed and took it all in, the quiet magnificence of it all.