Aix…so many words and so little time. We had an aixcellent time, the food was aixemplary, and bring together for Christmas was a joy par aixcellance. Okay, great, thanks—I got that out of my system. Originally, Kevin and I had wanted to have the family visit Delhi for Christmas, but we couldn’t find affordable tickets over several months so we decided to meet in the middle, and Paris had the lowest ticket costs. That was not a hard sell! Then we decided it would be more fun with family and before you know it, it was a full family reunion in Provence.
It’s hard to capture this magical trip in a blog post. I might need more: One for the food alone! Or the art. Or the family time. But let’s start at the beginning, which was Christmas Day itself. Doug said it was one of his favorites ever.
For lunch, Doug provided three beautiful rotisserie roasted chickens—they are small, healthy and hormone free, plus we were feeding Finn plus eight other people—and Mom and I shopped and cooked for the side dishes, salads and baguette. And Mom got a work-of-art bouche de Noël from a patisserie around the corner. Entering it felt like entering an art gallery.
We exchanged presents in our spacious living room area and then kicked back with books, movies, coffees and naps. Just like home—only the windows opened onto boulevards with little French boys playing with new scooters, flower markets around the corner, and our favorite bistro where we dined for Christmas dinner. Mom’s French onion soup is better than theirs, but everything else was excellent. Kevin ate a lot of steak.
Finn’s favorite part of Christmas actually happened the night before, at the cathedral. It was beautiful, old and packed for midnight mass. We were spread across tiny wooden pews that has made guests sit up straight for centuries. Uncle Ron and Hugh, both tall and broad shouldered, could hardly turn in their pew across the aisle. Therefore, it was a rude surprise indeed when Uncle Ron got whacked on the head from behind. He couldn’t turn around to see why. Then it happened again. The most powerful time to laugh is when you’re not supposed to, obviously, and Finn got the laughs. He tried to be discreet, but when one tries to stop, the urge to laugh even more is stronger than will power.
And of course, it’s infectious. The girls, bored, were already fighting their own giggles, something to do with the shape of the chandelier bulbs. Tatum has turned to me three minutes into the mass and whispered, “Mom, everything’s in French.” The fight to be polite and awake—Mom and Doug were also fighting jet lag—was too much. We were probably not discreet when we left after an hour, but at least we could laugh freely in the cold, twinkly Christmas Eve air. And Uncle Ron could replace his hat to his head, that being the source of the whacking by program from the older gentleman who had been seated behind him. I don’t think Finn will ever forget the joy of seeing a grown up get in trouble so surprisingly.
The days were easy and light, at least for me. Kevin and Finn did an incredible hike over many miles in mountainous terrain with beautiful azure views. Finn decided to go for a dip, never mind the freezing cold temperature of water and air. That was a highlight for them both.
My water highlight came in Cassis, a small ocean-front town east of Marseille that had a beautiful beach. My favorite memory of the trip might be watching the kids play on the sand one night. On one side the black, soothing ocean; on the other, a modern light show projected onto ancient stone village townhouses in purples, greens and oranges. There were giant fish swimming across one minute and Ancient Greek motifs the next. Eventually hunger took over so we found a restaurant and ordered nothing but desserts for dinner.
What do you know about Cézanne? I can offer three interesting tidbits. First, for an artist as prolific as he, it’s incredible that he painted entirely from two spots only, the first being a one-room studio and the other being a grassy knoll with a long view just up the hill. Second, he painted some fabulous, huge paintings of women, as they all did in those years, yet he was too shy to use live models. He used a single wooden doll to serve as his only model for all those paintings. Third, his father wanted him to be a banker. May we all follow our own paths.
The week was not so much about tours though, as it was about sitting at cafés, eating, and watching movies. We all gathered around the tv each night and watched a French-themed movie: The Count of Monte Cristo (we then visited the island housing the Chateau d’If), the Pink Panther, Midnight in Paris, for example. They all provided funny or aixciting intergenerational entertainment. And now it’s time to make my aixit.
@theterrace 