My new French Adventure - Mosaicing in Provence 2024

Here I am once again in southern France at one more mosaic project. I really hadn't intended to come here or no anywhere while Loring was on his wilderness trip this year. until I saw that two of my favorite mosaic tea hears were doing a other workshop together and the dates coincided with Loring's trip, I couldn't really saw no. so I am once again in Avignon where I spent a sojourn six years ago with Valerie and Laurel at Valerie's: atelier on the outskirts of Avignon. this time it's a little different. we are not making pieces for ourselves but rather a collaborative mural for the local school which we will install at the end of the week. And we are not going on trips organized be the instructors which is fine.I dont feel the need to revisit those places although I am glad to have visited them, especially the hospital where Van Gogh had committed himself, and our wonderful picnic in the lavender fields. I am much more content working on a group project and spending time by myself In my charming accommodation in the former abbey or cloister or whatever it once was. More research needed and more about it later. for now I'll say that I am quite pleased here. ******************************************** It is now one week later. The project is finished and I am now ensconsed in my apartment in Paris for the next two weeks. I will try to encapsulate the major points of our wonderful week and hopefully catch up to the present before it procedes too much! I stayed for the week in Villesnueves les Avignon, basically a suburb of Avignon. It's the same town where our whole group stayed in the Hotel L'Atelier six years ago. This time, Valerie had reserved for me a room in a nearby b&b called the Cloitre. It was part of an old church compound that the couple had purchased about thirty years ago and turned into accomodations. I was not only the only one from our group staying there, but the only one at all. Which was wonderful. There were a couple of larger apartments with kitchens, and I guess a couple of other rooms that I didn't see. They gave me the choice, and the one I selected had the most charm. It fronted on a little courtyard that I only sat in once, to eat the second half of a salad I'd purchased earlier in the day. It was corn and avocado and tuna and the longest grain rice I've ever seen. I'd bought at when we took a lunch break at the atelier, part of a set meal that included a drink and a dessert, a beautiful raspberry tart, one of my favorites. I knew I couldn't eat the whole thing, and the tart wouldn't travel well back to my home, so I ate half the salad and brought it home for later. Only trouble, I didn't have a fork and was at first at a loss as to how to eat it. Came up with the idea of using one of my hair combs, which actually worked quite well. in Chez mois, the owners sat with me every morning at breakfast and we chatted in French a great chance for me to practice since they spoke very little English. They were very interested in the mosaic project, and every morning I showed them pictures from the day before. My breakfast consisted of coffee, oj, slices of baguette, a crosissant, yogurt, a pear, and apricot jam made by Mr. Host, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten. Her name is Michele with one L. (as she told me.) Our group itself was over half French speaking, which was great. They were almost all French, with one German woman, Carola, who has been Valerie's friend for about thirty years. And there was Marjorie, who is French but has lived in Portugal for a number of years. She had driven the seven hours from her home in two days. She gave me a ride to the atelier the first few mornnings, until her car became too full with things she was bringing back to Portugal so that she didn't have room for me anymore! At least four or five of the group had cars, very different from the previous group I'd participated in, where we all came from abroad. Of the five Americans, three of us had New Mexico connections, an odd coincidence. Nancy lives part of the year in France, where she and her husband have a 200+ year old home, and the rest of the year in Taos. Pat had just moved to Truth or Consequences (yes there's a story behind the name that dates back before I lived there 50 years ago.) And I was the third, having lived in Albuquerque for five years in the 1970s. The project was five days long. At first it seemed to go so slowly, not in a bad way. I was just amazed at how much we had accomplished in just the first two days. And then the rest went so quickly, it was over before we knew it. It was a mixture of presentations by Laurel, a prolific mosaic artist for about 30 years. I will try to scoot back and write some more just about her later. and the rest was very hands on. Everything Laurel said was translated into French by Valerie and sometimes Carola. This was great French practice for me and everyone, I think, some of the others in English, because we all heard it twice in our own and the other language. And as someone pointed out, it was also great in terms of reinforcing the technical parts of things as well, to hear it twice. The lessons were about materials, both for the tiles and the adhesive andd grout, the techniques of cutting and placing, the tools, and much more. And everything was interspersed with actual hands on activites, first to experiment,then to actually start creating the mural. Laurel had already created the design, on paper. It used a mix of ceramic and glass tile, and mirror, some precut, others, for the background, were pieces of tile that we cut ourselves. We used Laurell's technique of taping. First, we laid clear contact paper over the design. Then we pressed the tile tesserae onto the contact paper, using Laurel's drawing as a guide, but not sticking strictly to her drawing, using it more as a guideline. With the contact paper pieces were easy to remove and replace where necessary. We did the mirror pieces first, having sliced them into thin strips. It was almost like doing the outside pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, although the mirrored lines didn't totally form a frame, but were interspersed with the design. We used some hand made ceramic pieces that Valerie had made, And Jan had made and brought, at Laurel's request, some pieces from home that she had made and that we all salivated over. Several folks asked her if she sold her handmade pieces, which she said she did not. But on the last day she gave us all little gift bags with several pieces for each of us. And we all said we'd share how we eventually used them. What a nice surprise. I think Jan was the oldest person in the group. She was turning 79, today I think. She seemed much younger to me, not just in looks but in spirit. There was at least one other person older than me, perhaps more. Most of the others, I would guess, were in their 30s and 40s. We had cut the design in three pieces, two outer rings and one center circle. The center sections had five of us working on each, and the center had two, with Valeries and Laurel supervising and suggesting. We had to make sure that each outer grooup had the same configuration, and in some cases, had to adjust. On the fourth day, we sliced each of the outer pieces in two, creating five total, and covered the top of each completely with a stronger clear tape. We then transported them all, along with all the materials for adhering and grouting it to the wall at the Jules Ferry elementary school in Los Angles, where Valerie's studio is located, about a ten minute drive from there. We had marked each piece with numbers and line to insure they went up properly aligned. The yellow wall, under an overhang adjacent to the school playground, was then spread with thinset, the adhesitive, to the outline of the design Laurel had previouslly sketched on the wall. This is one of the trickiest parts. The individual pieces, even in five segments, are heavy and took two to three people to carry over to the wall from where we'd laid them on the ground. And once they are pressed into the wall, there is limited abililty to move them. In the midst of this process, the children came out for recess and most of them stopped to watch, clearly entranced. We later found out that the school had decided to take the class pictures in front of the mural this year.For me, this was one of the most special parts of the whole process. It would be one thing to have the mural entirely installed when the children first saw it. But them watching us do it, at a couple of different points in the process, hopefully has given them an investment in the piece, and maybe a motivation to do something artistic themselves. The final parts of the installation involved pressing every tile into the thinset base, then carefully cutting and peeling away every piece of the outer layers of tape. And then, the last day, mixing and applying the grout. There had been some discussion about grout color because the color the grout can seriously effect the image of the mosaic. Laurel had originally gone for terracotta, but then rethought it and decided on gray. But Valerie convinced her to stay with the terracotta, which she, and I think everyone, in the end was very pleased with. I don't know what the gray would have looked like but the terracotta looks beautiful. I asked and found out that there are apps that will show you what your finished piece will look like with different grouts, which would be interesting to see for some future project. The final task was to sponge away all the extra grout (because you first spread it over the entire piece) andd lastly, to scrape away any amount that have clung to the tiles rather than just in the joints between them. We did that with small wooden scrapers. The next to last night we convened for champagne and tapas at L'Annex restaurant in Villenueve, a short walk from my delightful accomodations. And the following day, with the mural installated and grouted, we had a potluck consisting of wonderful vegetable tartes, patisseries, fruits, and much more, including, again, champagne, to toast ourselves and the project. I left early the next morning, yesterday, by train back to Paris, where I am now.

To Hergla and then home.

We are now at our final stop of the trip, at the Dar Khadija in Hergla. We will head directly from here to the airport, about an hour from here. It is a wonderful place, and a great place to spend the last two nights of our trip. We drove about five hours yesterday from Tammamont Home, where we'd spent the previous two nights. Now, to our last day in the country. We spent yesterday afternoon walking around the pleasant town. It’s so much more authentic and lovelier than Sidu bou Said, the town everyone recommends and most of the tourists, us included, go to. Our host here, when I told him that, said that people call Hergla the little Sidu bou Said. It’s on the ocean, and we walked down to where we thought the beach must be, but found only a rocky and not very appealing shore. Last night we were on our own for supper, and found a delightful little restaurant we had walked past earlier in the day. I told the man then, when I peeked in, that we weren’t hungry then but might come back later. And we did. He’d said there was fish on the menu, and we hadn’t had any fish during our two weeks. A woman in a shop we’d been in recommended the place, and said the fish was always caught fresh that day. When we knocked on and opened the door, the man was inside the doorway sitting at an easel and painting. He led us up some stairs where there were a few tables. We were the only customers. A young and and older woman who we assumed were his wife and daughter went into the kitchen and we soon heard the sound of frying. The fish was delicious. I think I understood him to say it was dorado. We don’t know if there was anything else on the menu, and it didn’t matter. The fish was served with fries and salad, as most every meal we've had is. Today was Mohsen’s last day as our driver. He went home to Marsa after he brought us back here. This morning and afternoon we went to Nabeul, known for its pottery. We stopped at the first shop where Mohsen could park on the busy street. Spent a half hour or more wandering around and watching the potter spin small pots on a wheel, and a man and a woman hand painting tiles. I asked if they had any small broken scraps, not sure if they would understand the concept of making pique assiette mosaics from broken pieces of pottery. They did, but told me that an Italian woman had been there the day before and took all the broken pieces they had. We bought a few small tiles and then went to another much bigger store. Although we’d already bought all we thought we could carry home, we wandered around and bought a few more small pieces. I again asked if they had any small broken shards. At first they said no, but when Mohsen or Sadok asked a little later, they came back with a small bag of scraps. I offered to pay him something but he waved me off. Crazy American, he was probably thinking. After another hour’s drive, we arrived in Zaguan, where we were met by our guide of the day. All of our guides have been very knowledgeable and personable. We’ve had a different one in each location, for walking and/or driving tours, probably six or seven in total, including our overnight camel driver and guide to camping in the desert. We’ve probably absorbed about half of what they’ve told us about the history of the place, and then probably forgotten at least half of that. Today we saw the Roman fountain and the beginning of the aqueduct that runs from there to Carthage, where we had seen the other end of the 132-kilometer-long water system. Today’s guide was very informed about the local and national agencies, as well as the Italian government, that help fund the excavation and protection of various archeological sites around the country. He stressed that the community was always having to ask government agencies for funding. But he also stressed that he only criticized the government because he cared deeply about his country, and that it wasn’t a matter of politics. He showed us various sites within the city, where he had grown up and still lived, including the primary school he had attended. In addition to being a guide he is a middle school teacher of English. I would have guessed he was a history teacher because of his intense knowledge of local history. He also took us to a 17th century mausoleum and told us about the man who had greatly helped the poor of the city. And he told us about various local festivals, one of which we had just missed by a few days. If we had known about it we might have considered visiting there first and making an opposite journey around the country. Sometimes small local festivals are the best of all. We had one last late lunch at another guest house in Zaguan. We met the owner, who was waiting for us with our lunch ready. She told us that the house, which has two guest rooms, had been her grandmother’s, and that her mother had been born there. She told us the story of a woman from the town who was very famous because she had received her doctorate, in French literature, when she was in her 80s. And then she said, “and that woman was my mother.” She wasso proud of her mother, who had just died a few years before. The owner said that she lived in Tunis, but came to town and the family home when she had customers. The place we are staying here, in Hergla, is also an old family home, which is true of many or most of the small guest houses in the country. I believe the same family still owns it, but they don’t live here. There are four or five guest rooms, each named for one of the grandchildren. It’s really a charming place, with the guest rooms surrounding a pool and patio, and additional sitting areas on a second and third level. There is a living room and a kitchen which guests are welcome to use. There are antiques and art all around the house. As everywhere we’ve been, aside from our Tunis airbnb, we have been served a sumptuous breakfast. That, with a second meal either in the afternoon or evening, is almost more than we can eat. It took us several days to convince our agents who have made our travel arrangements that we can’t eat three full meals a day! Breakfast here this morning included two kinds of bread, cake, fried eggs, cheese, yogurt, butter, jam, cucumber and tomato salad, and halvah! And coffee or tea. Other places have had similar spreads, In some places we’ve had hard boiled eggs. Sometimes we’ve had fresh cheese, in other places we’ve had little triangular cheese sections similar to the laughing cow cheese that was at one time fairly popular at home in the U.S. Lunches and dinners have been similar from place to place. First, salad, either cucumbers and tomatoes, sometimes onions and or lettuce, Then, a tomato based soup, somewhat spicy, with parsley and mayble other herbs, and perhaps corn or chick peas or rice.Then, a salad based on green peppers similar to New Mexico hatch chiles, which we still love after 50 years since we’ve lived there, and also a small amount of tomato, capers, and olive oil. Olive oil is served with pretty much everything, as are slices of lemon. Oh, and I almost forgot brik, little flaky pastries with dough similar to filo, stuffed with egg, potato, parsley, and maybe another green like spinach. The fillings vary in the proportions of the ingredients. I like the ones that are heavy on the greens and not as much on the eggs the best. They are sometimes in the shape of triangles and other times are rectangular. I am going to try to make some when we get back home. And just when you think you can’t eat any more comes the main dish, a stew with meat and usually a hot green pepper, and either couscous (which is actually a very fine pasta made from wheat, or another grain. ) Today’s was served with tiny little pasta squares, handmade, the owner told me, as I had guessed. I had about three or four servings of that. On the topic of food, a funny anecdote. We’ve seen trucks on the road hauling various loads of produce. Yesterday, we commented on one filled mostly with cantaloupes, with a few watermelons thrown in, as it passed us on the highway. Mohsen immediately pulled up alongside the truck, rolled down the passenger side window, and said something to the driver. Both Mohsen and the truck driver then pulled over to the side of the road, where Mohsen picked out four canteloupes, one for us and the others for him and his family. About fifteen minutes or so down the road, we passed the melon truck again, and both drivers tooted their horns at each other. There have been various vendors alongside the roads as we have driven around the country. In some cases, they are selling tea, according to Mohsen. In other places, it’s been loaves of fresh bread they hold out as we drive by. In other locations, it’s been fruit, strawberries in one stretch, oranges in another. And now, as we drive to the airport , some general thoughts and observations that I may have missed before now: First, the acres and acres of agricultural land throughout the country. Mostly olive trees further than one could even see. Tunisia is the fourth largest exporter, or maybe producer, of olive oil in the world, as more than one of our guides informed us. But the first in quality, they added. When we chuckled at their pride in their country, I hope we didn’t offend them. They each assured us that it was true, that Tunisian olive oils had won awards multiple years in international competitions. I hope we have time to buy a bottle at the airport . Right now we are stuck in traffic going thru Tunis so it’s possible we won’t. Next observation – storks. Yes, storks. The large black and white birds make their nests in power line towers along the sides of many of the roads we’ve travelled along over our travels. Sometimes there are multiple nests in a tower, and most of them have a bird sitting in them. In one tower we saw five nests. Our driver this morning said they nest here and then go elsewhere in the hot summer. I think they are common enough that the locals take them for granted. Our driver called them cygales, which sounded to us like seagulls. I thought at first he had the wrong English name. But we looked it up and realized what he was saying. I want to tell Achcraf to have guides or drivers point them out to other tourists, who might not notice them, because they are really impressive. We assume they are nesting now and will soon fly to other places that are not as hot in the summer. Tha architecture here is largely brick covered over by stucco, often the tan color of the desert sand, in other places, in the towns, whitewashed and often with blue trim. There isn’t one particular blue, but a range of blue hues. Architectural decoration includes metal, in doors, wrought ironwork, and studded doors. Some doors are wooden, some look ancient, but I am not sure they actually are. Tile decoration is common, as I had expected, often around the doorframes of houses and businesses, and sometimes more elaborate murals. It is difficult for me to discern if some of the incomplete buildings are ancient or recent. I asked one of our guides if he could tell, and he said no, because the construction methods were the same. There are also many sites of Roman and other ruins, some of which we visited, others about we heard or read. Some are still being discovered, and hopefully with more government funding more sites will be unearthed. Everywhere, around the country, are buildings in a state of construction and others in a state of decay. Some surely are being built in stages as money is available, as we’ve seen in other countries we’ve travelled to in the past. Often there are poles of rebar jutting up as the beginning of a second or third floor to come. That makes sense to me in worker class construction. But there are also many McMansion like houses that are also partially constructed, which puzzles me. Do people with some means still construct to the extent of their finances, and only add to them when money allows? Some buildings seem occupied on their lower levels, others look entirely vacant. One of our guides explained that many Tunisians have moved to France to work, and build summer homes here. Summer? It is already hot enough in the desert areas now, at the beginning of May. But summer is the wedding season, he explains, and that’s when people come back to visit with family. It’s a little reminiscent of Vietnam, where we visited last year, in that there are many partly constrcted buildings. But there, there was a predominance of huge hotel buildings, never completed, lined up along boulevards overlooking but not directly on the beach. There, we think it was Chinese investment and construction which then dried up before development was completed. Yesterday, our last full day in the country, Loring discovered a cache of dinars that he had forgotten he had. We went back to a crafts store in Hergla, after our day of touring, that we had visited the previous day. I had admired some hand painted leather bags that had been made by a local artist, the son of a friend of the store owner. She was clearly European, spoke excellent English as well as French, and Arabic. It turns out she was Norwegian, married to a French man, and had lived in France for many years. But they spent several months a year in Tunisia and she ran the store there. We admired the bags and many other crafts, different from most of the crafts we’d seen in the country. I knew I didn’t need a new handbag at all. But when Loring discovered the extra money he said it must mean that I was meant to have the bag. It was about 5pm when we went back to the store, not knowing whether it would be open or not. It wasn’t but there was a sign on the door with a phone #, saying to call if she wasn’t there. Which we did. And about an hour later, she called us back and said she’d meet us there. She was with a friend who she told us was the mother of the artist who made the bags, as well as sandals, wallets, and small waist bags. I chose one partly because of the softness of the leather, and also because I thought the design was reminiscent of camels. Of course, I’ve been seeing camels eveywhere since our ride into the desert, in hills and sand dunes. The store owner said she’d told her friend about us, and wondered if we might come back. We were all pleased that the artist’s mother was there and that we met her, and told her to tell her son about us. Also, we’d told her about our trip and about having a driver for the whole way, which worked out so well. So she asked more about him, and we gave her Mohnsen’s name and contact info. I hope he’ll get some more business from the connection. When we returned to Dar Khadiha we were surprised to see a group of young women and a couple of men. It turns out that they were models and photographers doing a fashion shoot for a Tunis company that makes burkinis, modest swimwear for Muslim women. We later looked up their site, MayaSquare. While we were there, we took pictures of us and them, by us and them. As many others we'd run into had, they asked how we'd enjoyed our time in their country, and thanked us for visiting. This morning at the Tunis airport, I tried to spend the rest of our dinars, about $40 worth. At the duty free shop I picked out olive oil, a date liquor, stuffed dates, pistachio halva, a stuffed camel for Julian, and more. Only to find that they didn’t accept dinars. Nor did the snack shop near our gate, which seemed ridiculous. Oh well, I put back everything but the olive oil, which I charged to my credit card. Loring suggested I just pick some Tunisians and give them the dinars, but that didn’t seem practical to me and I didn’t want to risk offending anyone. If only we’d realized earlier we could have given the money to Mohsen. Well, this could be motivation for a return trip, or to encourage someone we know to visit the country. After all, it’s only a two hour flight from Paris. Hmmm.

Tunisia Thalatha (Three)

A couple of days later, we are now in Ksar Guilane in the desert,where we spent last night. I had wanted to visit the hot springs here, even knowing that they were a bit too touristic, as described by Achraf before our departure. Nevertheless, thermal springs, mud baths, and the like, are hard for me to resist. There were three guest houses listed online, and Achraf recommended we stay at this one, called EcoLodge, based partly on not so great recommendation about another one. I knew it was rather touristic, but still wanted to go. Wildyness had given us a choice of two guest houses, and suggested one of them, because the other didn’t have great reviews. The Eco Lodge, where we stayed, was about a mile from the spring. The other one was called the Pansy, and it turned out to be right at the spring. The Eco Lodge was our least favorite of the places we’ve stayed. It wasn’t terrible, and the people were nice. But it was kind of sterile. And we were the only ones staying there. Also, there was supposed to be a pool. There was, but it was empty, no water. Mohsen, our driver, thought the place was just a few months old, and they hadn’t set up the pool yet. That seems likely, but also means that the pool on their website was photoshopped. Luckily, although Mohsen said it was a short walk to the thermal pool. We convinced him to drive us there, and he waited for us for the hour we spent there. I don’t know what the Pansy was like, but think I would recommend checking it out further to anyone considering a visit. As for Mohsen, who stayed at another of the guest places, he said it was terrible, no electricity after 8pm until 7am, and no place to take a shower. The thermal pool itself was a perfect tepid temperature and was teeming with folks at some points during our hour there, and almost empty at others. I didn’t hear a word of English, most folks were French speaking, and a bit of Arabic and a smattering of Italian and German. Some had arrived on tourist buses, others by motorcycle, and others were riding quads either to or from the spring. There were a few cafes around the spring, and a few stalls with people selling crafts, t shirts, and the like. Many of the tourists, women as well as men, were wearing the long scarf wrapped turbans that the local men wear. We actually have not run into any American tourists, or even any English-speaking ones, although many of the French visitors as well as the staff at various places, do speak some English. And our guides have all spoken fairly good English. One of our guides, in El Kef, amused me by repeatedly addressing us as "ladies and gentlemen” although it was just the two of us. The English teacher in me thought about correcting him, thinking that as a guide he might appreciate knowing that it was correct only for multiples. But then again, I didn’t want to embarrass him, and besides, it was pretty endearing. And then, a day or two later, our next guide used the same phrase, so I gather it wasn’t just the first guide, or that it was unusual for them to be guiding just a couple of people. We have moved on to our next destination at Tadarromt Home, a trogolyte guest house. Only 20 people live here in Tadorromt, about a half hour from Tatatouine, where we stopped for lunch. Trogolyte, according to many sources, means brute or hermit or a few other things, but here it means a cave house. This one has only one guest room, or I should say suite. We have a living room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom, all charming and very authentic feeling. Two older sisters live here and run the place. They are probably cooking us dinner now, and will serve us breakfast tomorrow and the following day. I took a peek into their room, at the woman’s urging, and it loooks like our living room, low mattress and many pillows, all in predominantly red patterns. And many rugs covering the floors. It is the first place we’ve stayed, ,other than camping in the desert, where we’ve not had ac. But indoors, it is cool enough that I had to put on a layer! We should be eating dinner soon, since we’ve been served around 7 or 730 each evening. I don’t smell anything yet. But we’ve heard an intermittent beeping which Loring thinks is a microwave. Which seems a bit incongruous, but not unlikely. The most incongruous thing that I’ve encountered so far was on our camel trek to camp out in a tent in the desert, a couple of nights ago. After a ride of about 45 minutes, led by our camel driver, he set up our tent, cooked us dinner, and then answered the ring of his cell phone. Now, I’ll backtrack a couple of days to our adventure camping in the desert. We’d had the choice of camping in tents at the base camp, or riding by camel to camp in a tent in the desert, which is what we chose.My guess is that we’re in the minority of the folks that visit there, although once at our spot we could see a couple of camels a few dunes over. The camels were loaded with all kinds of cushions and cushiony blankets, water jugs, and more, before we mounted them. I soon realized that the blankets and pads were our sleeping matter for the night. Our driver took our overnight daypacks ( an oxymoron?) and tied them on. Mounting a camel is a bit of a challenge, which I remembered from my previous camel ride about a decade ago in Israel. It’s kind of a three step process for the camel to stand or sit. Its back legs have two joints. First the first part of the back, then the front legs, then the other part of the back legs. So you have to cling on as you get thrust first forward, then back, before the animal is fully standing. My camel was tied to Loring’s camel, and his was led by the camel driver. The camels stop at every chance to munch on brush, which the driver sometimes allowed while at other times jerked the anlimals away. Because mine was behind the other, it got yanked more after the first camel had chomped on the bush, And every time I was afraid I’d lose my balance and fall off. Nevertheless, it was a great evperience and I did manage to stay on for a the whole ride. When we got to the camping spot, which the guide seemed to just decide at the moment, he unloaded all the gear, including two modern thermarest type pads, like the one Loring uses on his wilderness hikes. And the tent, to my surprise, was a Quechua brand pup tent with a rain fly. (which was totally unnessacery which he set up nevertheless.). The best part was when he collected some of the sparce firewood and cooked our dinner, and then breakfast the next morning. He set up three empty cans and weighted them down with sand, set a small fire underneath them. From a large cloth sack he took out onions, tomatoes, peppers, ( he gave us a slice to make sure it wasn’t too hot for us), then some frozen mutton, canned tomato sauce, and made a stew. In a second level pot like a double boiler he put couscous to cook above the stew. He wet napkins and wrapped strands of them around the seam between the upper and bottom level pots, perhaps to seal them or maybe to help steam the couscous. And then he made a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, and onions. It was all delicious. After dinner, he took out a homemade flute that was merely a piece of metal pipe with holes, and serenaded us. Loring videoed him playing and then played it back for him, which seemed to really please him. We watched satellites and shooting stars for a while, then went to bed in the tent. Loring slept inside just for part of the night, then dragged his mat and blanket outside and slept under the stars. I was cosy inside the tent. I think our guide slept outdoors too, on the couch made of multiple blankets that he had set up next to the fire for us to recline on while we relaxed and ate. In the morning he made a dough that we think was just flour and water, flattened it out, and put in directly in the coals, covering it with additional coals. And took eggs and wrapped them in wet napkins and also put them directly in the fire. When he removed the bread from the fire and dusted it brieflly, there was no trace of ash remaining. The eggs were perfectly cooked, and as he asked/told us, better than if they were cooked in water. He put out a small dish of olive oil, and a jar of some kind of jam, perhaps fig. The dishes were washed with sand and rinsed with water from the large jugs the animals had carried. Then everything remaining went back in the bag, we took the tent down, repacked the camels with all the paraphernalia, and made our way back to the base camp and headed on our way to the next adventure.

TUNISIA TOO

Still in Tozeur, our third and last night here. The guest house is really lovely, only four rooms. They surround a courtyard, and there is a swimming pool. I went in yesterday, but only briefly. Loring has been in both days to swim a few laps. There is a family staying here, although we can’t figure out just how they are related. There are two little girls, and three women. One seems of an age to be their mother, and another might be the grandmother. There is a third woman, older still and dressed traditionally. Possibly the great grandmother? She was wearing a two piece embroidered outfit today, with a matching hat, not a hijab. She went in the water dressed in all of that. Not unusual, I have seen Arab women fully clothed in the ocean in Israel. Yesterday afternoon we went on a walking tour of the town and a date farm accompanied by our guide for here, Marouan. It was a lot of walking, partly because our guest house is on the edge of the town rather than the middle. It’s the only drawback to this place. We prefer to be in or near the center of town. The old town, or medina, was interesting as they always seem to be. The architecture here is different from the other places we’ve been. The buildings are all decorated with bricks in various patterns, very appealing. Marouan told us that each brick design has a name. He pointed out one that was the camel pattern, because it resembled a procession of camels. I could see it. We eventually came to a large orchard with many gated sections. In one section a gardener was working. He invited us in and he and Marouan told us a lot about date farming and harvesting. Each tree is climbed, quite high, not just to harvest the dates, but also to polinate them. The polinate themselves, but this process increases the amount of polination. They tie ribbons of the female part around the male parts, or maybe it’s the other way around. It wasn’t the harvest season, but beneath our feet were many dates, some looking only a bit dried up. I was tempted to pick one up, but refrained. The gardner suddenly scurried up one of the date palms, quite agiley. He wasn’t a young person. After he came down he told Marouan, who translated for us, that some years ago, he had fallen about 15 feet from a tree. He was taken to the hospital in Tunis, where he spent three months. Then he pulled up his shirt to show us a band wrapped tightly around his waist. I assume he wore that all the time. And still scooted up a tree easily. Marouan said he was a sharecropper. He maintained the place and could keep a fifth of the produce. On the way back to town we went to a small date museum. It explained a lot about the long history of date farming, and also, of course, sold date products. Marouan brought out a platter in the shape of Fatima’s hand, each finger holding a different type of date product. There were dates with cinnamon, with ginger, with orange, and with almonds. We chose a jar of date almond jam. I hope we don’t have a problem getting it back through customs. We’ve had trouble in the past with smoked Spanish ham, even though it was entirely sealed. We suspect the customs officers just wanted it for themselves. They had a whole room where they processed the dates, interesting to see although they weren’t working at the time. On our drive here from El Kef, every inch of the terrain was covered with orchards and various planted crops. The great majority were date palms and olive trees. But there were also lemon and orange trees, pomegranates, almonds, and probably others I can’t recall. Speaking of food products, I haven’t mentioned the town we stopped at on the way from Tunis to Dougga and El Kef. It is apparently is well known for its cheese. Mohsen, our driver, bought some bread from a boy on the street, and then took us to a cheese store. The merchant gave us a sliver of aged cheese to try, and then some fresh, which Mohsen bought for us. If I understood right, the cheese doesn’t have a name, just fresh, or aged. We’ve had the fresh cheese as part of our breakfasts, too, and it is delicious. It’s similar to farmer cheese. Back to Tozeur, where we are now. We spent most of the day, leaving the hotel around 9am, to tour the surrounding desert. First stop, the place where they filmed several of the Star Wars films. It is not a real village, but one constructed by George Lucas and company for the film. It’s fairly low key for a tourist destination, and there weren’t many people there when we arrived. But several groups arrived while we were there. There are a couple of men wanting to have you pose with their camels. And a large piece of fur or maybe synthetic material clearly meant to evoke Chewbacca and have you pose with it with your head above the fur. Loring tried to get me to do so, which I declined, but he willingly posed with it so I guess I’m allowed to post it. This is the second silly tourist post he posed for. Maybe I already mentioned this. There are many headless statues around the ruins in Carthage, Dougga, and Bella Reggia. The guides explained that the ancients would just replace the heads when there was a new ruler. I would think the rulers wouldn’t be happy with that, but apparently it was the thing to do. And now the thing to do is for us to pose with them. Loring wasn’t the first in the group we were with. That brings up another glitch in our itinerary. We were supposed to have a private guide in Bella Reggia, but that somehow didn’t happen. We waited while Mohsen talked with Sokal at Wildyness, and then apparentlly we were supposed to join up with a group of Americans, which I wasn’t thrilled about. In the end we wound up with a small group of Tunisian and French visitors, and it was fine. The other miscommunication we’ve encountered was when we arrived here in Tozeur a couple of days ago. The guest house in our itinerary, which Mohsen also had in his, didn’t have a reservation or any room for us. They did have a room for the second and third day, which we asked them to hold temporarily while we were brought to the place we are at now. Turns out the place hadn’t had room for us in the first place, and the reservation had been changed to here. But it had never been changed in our itinerary. It all worked out fine in the end, but was somewhat disconcerting to find out the first place had no reservation nor any place for us. On the other hand, Wildyness has been following us day to day through Whatssup, telling us about each day’s plan, and also checking in with Mohsen. We are all on a Whattsup group together, us, Mohsen, Sokal and Akshar. It can get a little confusing but is mostly working out well. Back to food (of course.) There is no way we can eat all we are served, or even three meals a day at all. Breakfast and dinner seems to work well, although the quantity is still overwhelming. Today, when we realized we were going to have a big lunch after visiting the sites, we asked Marouan if we could cancel the dinner we had already ordered here for tonite, it it was not too late. He called and they said it was fine. We asked for just some salad and fruit, which I guess we will be served fairly soon, as it is approaching 7pm. Last night they asked if we wanted to eat indoors, in the dining room, where we’ve had breakfast, or outdoors. When we chose outdoors, they set up a table for us in the center of the courtyard. Our meal was an order of camel and one of chicken. ( partly in case we didn’t like the camel.) But was actually delicious, kind of a cross between lamb and beef. With it were two kinds of salad , large bowls of couscous which we couldn ‘t finish, a light dessert of chopped oranges and dates. The chicken was cooked in a crockery jar that was sealed closed with what we think was a flour paste, in a fire, and then unsealed to serve. For drinks we have been served water with lemon and mint, and also what they have called lemon juice, which is lemonade. And also fresh orange juice at some locations.

TUNISIAN SOJURN

We are in El Kef, Tunisia, about halfway through our Tunisian sojouorn of two weeks. We’ve spent the last two nights here, and are about to take off to our next destination, Tozeur. It’s about a fiv e or six hour drive from here, the longest drive we’ll have on our trip. We are not driving ourselves, have a driver for the whole duration of the trip, except for the first three days in Tunis. Monsen is staying with us, at the same guest house, here, and I am assuming at the other stops along the way as well. (except perhaps for the night we go by camel to a desert location and camp out!) WE are travelling by ourselves, not with a group. But the arrangements have been made by a Tunisian organization called Wildyness. This is similar to the type of arrangements we made last year in Vietnam. There, we had a different driver and guide at each stop, with one handing us over to the next, or putting us on a flight or train to be picked up on the other end. That worked quite well, as it seems to be doing here as well. Wildyness is a young company run by a Tunisian couple who had travelled widely until deciding to promote tourism in their own country. I had looked into several companies and chose them just because they are Tunisia based, and have personal relationships with the guides and guest houses with whom they work. In Vietnam we worked with a London based company who works with agents in each place to which they organize travel. There are many companies that do this type of customized trip to many different countries. Wildyness works only in Tunisia, and things seem to be working quite well so far, with a few quirks. More about that later. Our trip started out rather inauspiciouly. On the morning of the day we were supposed to leave Boston at 5pm, we received an email from Air France saying that our flight from Paris to Tunis had been cancelled. Whaaa? Turns out that the French air controllers were planning to strike, and over half the flights from Paris had been cancelled. We were able to reschedule to a later flight, with a five hour layover in Paris, meaning instead of arriving early in the am we didn’t get get there until late at night, effectively cutting out the first day of our trip. ************************************* Later, now writing from Tozeur, two stops down the road from Tunis. We are staying at a delightful guest house. I could just relax here for the next three days. This morning we are doing just that. This afternoon at about 2:30 we will have a guide for a walking tour of Touzeur and a visit to a date farm. Dates are ubiquitous here. We had them awaiting us at our airbnb in Tunis, and they have been served as part of our breakfasts since. In Tunis, Jazmin, our host, told us to roll them first between our fingers to soften them and release the flavor. Not sure it really makes a difference, but it’s a pleasant custom that I hope I’ll continue at home. During our two nights in El Kef we visited first the impressive ruins at Dougga, andd the next day, backtracked a bit to also visit the site of Bulla Regia. I’d read about Bulla Regia having the best preserved mosaics still in situ in Tunisia. Most are in the Bardo, which we had visited in Tunis. And they are indeed impressive there. But there is something about seeing them still in their orginal site that can’t compare to seeing them removed to a museum, even as spectacular as those are. Forgive me for bouncing around and back and forth from place to place as I write, as I am always doing. I write off the cuff, pretty much unedited, always trying to catch up. I hope it makes sense to you, if you are reading this. So, back to Tunis. We stayed there at a wonderful airbnb, one of the most delightful we’ve ever stayed at. I found it after Wildyness realized that their first two recommended guest houses, and then the couple after that, had no space available. These are mostly family run places with only a few rooms, and since we had started planning these trips only three weeks before our departure, perhaps not surprising. They had all sounded charming, and we were temporarily frustrated, until I saw the airbnb listing. It’s an apartment in the medina, the old part of the city, with its winding cobblestone streets and passages, some, like ours, inaccessable by car. We had to walk a couple of blocks with our luggage, which wasn’t a problem and just added to the charm. Jazmin and family had totally renovated it, I believe it had been abandoned, There are many such buildings in the medina, and also in the newer parts of the city. When I admired the tiled interior walls, she said they had been there in the building, and they reused them. The most unusual feature was an elevator, installed in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, to take one up to the roof and deck with several couches. Jasmin said her father had constructed it. We went up there once, but Loring said it made him very nervous, and since he is an engineer I took him at his word. The place had two bedrooms, one of which became Loring’s walk-in closet, a lovely living room, and was decorated modernly traditional, if that makes sense. I highly recommend it if you happen to be going to Tunis and looking for someplace to stay. And Jasmin herself was very personable, even picked us up at the airport close to midnight, instead of the 9am time we were originally scheduled to arrive. (the air controllers’ strike, by the way, was cancelled before it happened, but our flight and many others had themselves been cancelled too late to reschedule.) In Tunis we spent one afternoon at the Bardo Museum, famed for its mosaics, and a must to visit. We found out that it had been closed for renovations and only recently reopened last September. I would have been really disappointed if we couldn’t visit. The museum had actually been attacked by terrorists in 2015, which I suppose would have been part, maybe all the cause of the renovations. On leaving the museum I had seen a mosaiced plaque in the entranceway with a list of names and countries. It looked like a plaque listing donors. It seemed peculiar for donors to have come from many different countries. I only realized later that they were the names of the people who had died in the attack, and the countries they had come from. I remember Poland and Japan, not sure of the other nationalities. There were 22 that had been killed From Tunis we took an afteroon’s trip to Carthage and Sidi bu Said. Carthage is a large area of ruins, with a complicated history that our guide told us in great detail. I was only able to absorb a small part of it, because of the detail, not because of his English skills, which are quite good. There were four different civilizations that inhabited it after time. If I am remembering right, there were the Phoenicians, Bizantines, Carthaginians, and Romans. No, that’s not right, I think the Vandals were in there too. I know the Romans destroyed the Carthagians, and the Vandals obviously destroyed something! I may have to go back and research it some more. What is most amazing is how extensive these ruins are, and how they were entirely buried until rediscovered in the 19th century. And that there are large unexcavated areas, less than half has been unearthed because the land is privately owned. There are sections of various columns and fragments of buildings strewn around the ruins, and in the countryside as well. We then visited the city of Sidi bu Said, described as the scenic blue and white city. It seems like an upper class suburb of Tunis. It is scenic, on a hillside, but marred by the fact that it was seething with visitors, some foreign but at least half what seemed to be either Tunisians or other Arabs, the women mostly in hijabs. We had to elbow ourselves up the main route. It was certainly trendy, too much so for us. Our guide mentioned that the American Ambassador lived, there, and also pointed out the former house of a famous local fashion designer who had clothed people like Madonna. Apparently many celebrities came came to his funeral. I had wanted to meet Achraf, the founder of the travel organization who’d helped plan our trip. He met us at our apartment, which I’d wanted to show him for possible future reference. And then we went to a coffee house some blocks from the apartment that he hadn’t yet been to and wanted to check out. He’s in his thirties, just about Max’s age, and his sister, like Carolina, is a couple of years younger. He told us about his travels around the world (Iran being his favorite) and how he and his wife had decided to start a travel business in their own country. They are especially interested in supporting locals and also taking tourists to places a bit off the beaten path. In the medina, in general, we were surprised to find it almost untouristed. I had expected otherwise, seeing as it’s one of the major points of the capital, included in any day tour you would see. Where we walked were alternately quiet streets and ones with many locals and markets selling everything from oranges to toys to hookahs. And many little hole in the wall businesses, from tiny grocery stores to tailors. Our street, like many others, was very quiet, an impasse (dead end. ) Yasmin had given us a suggestion for a nearby place for breakfast, which we had some difficulty finding, lots of small passages that didn’t necessarily go where google told us to go. So we spent a half hour or more looking for a place which was actually quite nearby. Which was fine, since it gave us a purpose in exploring the medina. We eventually had to ask a shopkeeper where it was, which we never would have found ourselves. Inside it was at least three or four levels high, with tables at every level. The menu had breakfast combinations each with a name, and a list of items, only about half of which we could recognize. We ordered two different ones, and were stunned with the variety and quantity when they arrived, served on trays. There were salads, eggs, cheese, bread, jam, fruit, pastries, and more. Loring’s had a sandwich and mine had a pain au chocolate. Serving a large variety of items seems much a part of Tunisian meals. Here for breakfast this morning we had lemon juice (lemonade with mint) coffee, hardboiled eggs, bread, butter, cheese, two kinds of jam, marble pound cake, cookies, and I know I am not remembering everything. At supper one of our nights at the guest house in El Kef, we were first served with what I thought was the main course, until he later brought out huge plates of couscous with lamb. And, yesterday on our way here in Tozeur in the large town of Ghansa, Mosen, our driver, brought is to a restaurant called the Seventy Six, which seemed to be part of a chain. Again, it was four floors high, lots of steps, and we were of course brought to the top level. Not fun for my aging legs, which are protesting all the steps to each location and set of ruins. But worth it in every case. Here at the Seventy Six there was a large menu ranging from hamburgers and salads to “plats” a full meal with various components. Loring opted for a salad camembert and I ordered a banana-nutella-stawberry crepe. Sounded good, and it was. I asked it it came with whipped cream. It didn’t and so I ordered some, just a small amount. I was totally overwhelmed when it arrived. The amount of whipped cream was appropriately small. But the crepe! It was actually at least three crepes, all rolled around bananas and then sliced into little rolls similar to sushi! They were mounded up into a pyramid, drenched in chocolate ( not nutella but good quality chocolate) and then topped with stawberries, chopped pistachios and more bananas. And a small serving of whipped cream to the side. It was delicious but much more than I could eat. I tried, and ate much more than I should have and probably had no more than half. And then regretted it because my stomach didn’t feel great last night and still isn’t right today. I was glad that the waiter asked if I wanted to take the rest of it, which I did. And Loring ate it last night for his supper. (I didn’t want any more or anything else.) Oh, and I fogot a couple of things: Loring’s salad with camembert came with an entire round of camembert cheese, again more than one, or at least we, could eat at a sitting. And, before our food came, the waiter came over with a tureen of pureed lentil-vegetable soup and served us some, which came gratis with the meal. So my lunch was a bowl of vegetable soup and a ginourmous seving of a multi crepe banana-chocolate-strawberry concoction that could easily served two as a meal and at least four, probably more, as dessert. I wish we’d thought to take pictures of both of our meals before we started to eat. Loring did get a picture of me struggling to eat my lunch. Though delicous, it felt ostentacious and maybe wasteful, if people didn’t take the extras home. It was as if upper class was equated with enormous quantities of food. And though not as overwhelming, it seems that the quantity of food served to us everywhere has been more than we could or want to eat. I don’t know if it has to do with class or with impressing foreigners or both. I am guessing tonite will be the same as far as quantity. I just hope that someone will eat whatever we don’t. Oh, and by the way, we’ve ordered camel for tonight. Or at least one to share, the other being the more familiar chicken dinner.

Our third and final stay

We are now in Soufriere, our third location on the island. Once again we are in a room virtually on the beach, just a few steps away. We found this place, Still Beach Cottages, on airbnb, as we did our place in Laborie. Unlike the other places, this is just a room, rather than a place with separate bedroom, living room, and kitchen. We do have a refrigerator, a microwave, and a hotwater pot. It's a little less convenient but as we have been eating breakfast and lunch at home, and dinner out, at each location, it's not that much of a problem. We have been having cereal with yogurt or milk, and bananas, at each location for breakfast, and usually crackers with cheese and cucumbers and/or tomatoes for lunch, at each stop. So the lack of kitchen isn't really a problem. It's more the lack of more space, and having to wash dishes in the bathroom sink, etc. that makes it a little less pleasant. But we do have a nice porch facing the beach and the impressive Petit Piton. So it's still a great location. This is our sixth night here, and we have only one more night after tonight before heading home. There is a restaurant right below us, and many more in town which we can walk to along the beach. We ate dinner here our first night, and plan to again tonite. Tomorrow, our last night, we plan to return to the place we have liked has the best of the several restaurants we've been to. It's called JenMwen and has some tables right on the water as well as indoors and an upper level, The first night we ate there we went upstairs, not realizing they had tables on the beach. I had seafood alfredo, and asked for light on the sauce, which was delicious. It was mostly conch and octopus with some tiny shrimp. Loring had pork ribs. He had noticed a wood fired pizza oven, and we went back a couple of days later to have pizza. But it turned out that the kitchen was closed on Mondays. So we went back l1qast night and shared a delicious pizza. We ordered a vegetarian pizza with bacon and sausage. A funny order but we wanted lots of veggies as well as meat. It was fantastic. I am not a big pizza fan but thought this was delicous. Or maybe it's the environment and everything tastes wonderful. But I dont think so. Monday when JenWhen was closed, we wound up at a place we had walked by, a block back from the beach. We thought it was a small hole in the wall local place, but when we went in the only table was occupied by another foreign (ie white) couple. And it turned out there was a large room in the back and a group of white people in there, which left shortly after we arrived. I ordered conch, which they call lambi here. The only other place I can remember eating it was in the Bahamas, many years ago. It's kind of tough, and we had to pound it fiercely to tenderize it when we cooked it ourselves. When out, we ate it in the form of conch fritters. I haven't seen any evidence of conch fritters here, but cooked in sauce, usally garlic butter, or in the alfredo I'd had. That night she asked if I wanted it in the garlic butter, or in a locally made sauce that was kind of like vinegrette. I opted for the latter. Then, a bit later, she came from the kitchen to ask if it was okay with me to have chicken lasagna as one of the sides. Since I'd orderd seafood, she wanted to make sure it was okay with me to have chicken. All meals here, other than the pizza and the pasta, are served with a number of sides. These are usually rice, plantains, salad, and one or two others. That night, macaroni pie had been one of the sides. But they'd run out, and the chicken lasagna was the replacement. The meal was so plentiful that I took probably half of it home and had it for lunch the next day. I'd done that a couple of times before. Food here is much more expensive than I would have expected. The meals hover in the $20 to $26 dollar range, not that much less than at home. Tonight, a little later, we are heading to our restaurant here, a few steps away. We ate here the afirst night but have eaten elsewhere since. There's a large lunch buffet here every day, and a number of groups of tourists come here as part of their tours. But as we tend to have our large meal in the evening, we haven't tri2ed it. I did look one day, and it seems to be similar to the choices we have at dinner wherever we go. One meal we have not had is what we've read is the national dish, green figs with, I think, rice. The green figs, though, are actually some kind of banana. Bananas aare more than plentiful here. We've passed large banana farms, or plantations, not sure what they call them. And then there are plantains, which are similar to bananas but not sweet, and are served fried or sauteed as a side dish. We've had plenty of those, at most every dinner. But I hope we have a chance to try the green fig dish before we leave. *************** And now it is Thursday and our last night on the island. Most days, here and in our two previous locations in St. Lucia, we have spent much of our time on the beach and/or in the water. For Loring, that means a snorkel or swim, for me bobbing in the waves. Luckily, at all three locations, the beaches have been sandy, as has the ocean bottom, and the waves gentle. For the most of our trip, I have had my favorite water toy, my underwater mp3 player. It has lasted longer than any of my previous ones. I think this is number five, and they have usually lasted about two or three years. I use it often at the Y. It just decided to stop working yesterday, so I feel pretty lucky. Time to order a new one! The days have had a similar rhythm, breakfast on our porch, an hour or two reading, down to the beach for another hour or so of reading until it's too hot and time for a swim. Then back to the house for lunch, more reading, another beach stay, reading or rummy or writing, a rum cocktail, then dinner at that night's choice of restaurant, usually on the water. We have only gone on a couple of excursions, although there are plenty offered. Tour folks offer packages that go to several island spots all on the same day, not only from here but also from Castries, on the northern part of the island where we first stayed. We went to the jungle tram ride from there, which I've already written about and recommend. In Laborie we stayed mainly on the beach and walked around the small town. A couple of events there, but they weren't aimedd at tourists, just a gospel service at the Catholic Church and a town event rededicating the market area with lots of speeches by polititians including the prime minister. Here we've gone, yesterday, to the mud baths not far from town. They're at a volcano, where you can walk a brief trail to see the bubbling hot mud. The temperature there is boiling, and the site impressive. The baths are lower down and the water is much cooler. You soak in the pool, then plaster your body with the mud, let it dry, and then plunge back into the pool to rinse off. It was a great experience, and we are glad we got there when they opened in the morning, before the groups from the cruise ships and other tour groups arrived. We arrived before the official 9am opening and they were already open. There were folks already there, most of whom seemed locals. We were the only white people there, although once we were covered with mud we were all about the same color. By the time we left, there were more and more tourists arriving. The baths are supposedly therapeutic, and some swear that the mud takes about 10 years off your looks. I don't know but it was great fun and I highly recommend. This morning we went to another set of baths just outside of town. Both sets of baths are fed by the volcano. Again, the suppossed opening was at 10am but they were open when we got there about 930. This place is a combination of botanical garden, a beautiful waterfall, and thermal baths. No mud this time, just delightful warm water, very relaxing, and surrounded by all kinds of tropical flowers and plants. The baths were originally constructed by the French in the 1700's. Later abandoned, then bought and restored by a man in the 20th century, for his own private use. Later on, his daughter created or restored the gardens and opened the place to the public. (for a fee, as with the mud baths, which is fine.) At the mudbaths, Lucian pay a lower fee, as they should. Not sure if that is also true at the other baths, but I hope so. We'd been told we needed just 20 minutes to a half hour to visit. We realized that's because the tours just walk people thru, without using the baths. And indeed, a number of groups came thru during the latter part of our stay, and just walked past the baths. There's a short walk to the waterfall, which by the way is featured in a scene in Superman II, which I guess we'll now have to rent and watch. The groups visit the mud baths and hot baths the same day, along with several other stops, including lunch. We are awfully glad we did them the way we did, separately. But I guess if you are on a cruise ship, or a daylong tour from the north, that doesn't work. But if you visit St. Lucia, make sure to make time for both sets of baths, ideally on two different days, depending from where on the island you are coming. We've pretty much come to the end of our stay, one more dinner, one more swim after breakfast tomorrow, and then off to the airport. It's been an excellent trip.

Laborie and off to Soufriere

Now it is Tuesday. We’ve just had lunch, on our expansive porch. The other family, four from Toronto, have left, and we expect there will be others arriving later today. The folks in both apartments share the porch and infinity pool, although it is right outside the owners’ apt, now ours. So we just have to step outside our living room to be on the porch. There are lounge chairs as well as a couple of tables and chairs. That’s where I am sitting and writing now. As of this morning the fridge in the downstairs apt where we were originally has not been fixed. Hopefully for the owner they will have it fixed by Friday, when we leave. But for the new occupants, it might be better if they don’t fix it, then they, like we, will have the bigger and nicer apartment. Loring has just gone out to get a few more grocery supplies. He has already been out for one swim this morning, and will no doubt go for another one later this afternoon. He gets fidgety if he sits around for too long. I, on the other hand, can sit on the porch, here and also at home, for great portions of the day. We haven’t done too much here, aside from walk around the little town, walk down the beach, go in the ocean, go in the pool, play rummy, read, and for me, write. And that’s just fine. We did have an interesting experience the day we arrived here. It was a service, or at least a gathering, at the Catholic Church just a couple of blocks from here. The only way we knew about it was because of a chance connection between an old friend from the Bronx (who I have only been in touch with thru fb, and very sporadically) and a friend of his. He saw my first fb post saying that I was in St. Lucia, and wrote that he had friends who spent several months here every year and were involved in the music scene. He contacted them and found out that they are in Laborie right now. I don’t know if we will actually meet up with them. But the woman, Neti, wrote that there was a gospel event at the church the day we arrived. Indeed there was. We’d been told the event began at 6pm, so we headed there after dinner at Mama Tillie’s. But things were already in full swing. There was a man, an mc of sorts, who spoke and sang and had the audience singing and chanting and dancing with him. If he was a Catholic priest, he was certainly not like any priest I’ve ever come across. I am guessing that it wasn’t a Catholic event, per se, but just using the church, but who knows. It was certainly a religious event, with Jesus being invoked frequently. Neti, the friend of our NY friend, had said that there really wasn’t much of a music scene, and what there was was mostly at the resorts. So it’s uncertain whether we will come across any more live music. Meanwhile, we’ve got reggae blasting from some locals on the beach right in front of our porch. Accompanied, appropriately, by the strong smell of weed. And yesterday when we were on the beach there was obnoxoiusly loud recorded music coming from a house down the beach, which we could estill hear from our porch when we got back here. We’ve eaten breakfast and lunch here, and supper out every night, so far at Mama Tillie’s. We do want to go to Mama Rosa’s, hopefully tonite. She has only been open for breakfast and lunch since we arrived, but is supposed to be open for dinner tonight. Now to decide – back to the pool, or off to the beach? Tough choice. Actually, no bad choice. And we will certainly do both this afternoon.