I must confess, I haven’t been honest about our last two weeks in Provence. There’s a bit of trouble in Paradise. The challenges we’re facing traveling abroad as seniors aren’t for the faint of heart!
Colette left Marseille for her Avignon home to see her doctor for her annual checkup. She fell on the sidewalk near the office and broke her knee’s patella in half. Since surgery and a hospital stay, she’s using a walker and in physical therapy. Our trip together to Italy is off since Colette can’t drive and/or barely walk.
I, on the other hand, twisted and lifted my suitcase which really did my back in. The pain and limited motion have been horrible. I saw a doctor three times in Marseille who prescribed prednisone and strong pain killers. The pharmacy helped me juggle medications and a 4 wheel walker with a seat for 50 Euros. But sitting in the car from Marseille to Nice made my condition and pain even worse. I’ve been house-bound now for nearly two weeks but have been blessed with two magnificent views—of Marseille’s mountain range Le Massif des Étoiles (Stars) and a panoramic vista of Nice and the Sea. As an artist, I can’t complain. When the pain isn’t too great, I get out my brushes, paper, and paint.
Duane, Don and Nina explored Nice’s Old Town, the flower Marché, the Beaux Arts Museum (with Berthe Morisot’s exhibit), the Promenade des Anglais beachside boardwalk, all the way from Mandelieu-La-Napole to the charming fishing village of Villefranche-sûr-Mer. They explored my college territory—the Principality of Monaco—Monte Carlo’s Casino and garden and La Condamine where sits the Palace. I can visualize where they walked and what they saw as if I were there—the changing of the guard at the Palais du Prince, Jacques Cousteau’s Oceanographic Museum, and the church where the Prince and Princess were wed and where Princess Grace’s funeral was held.
I met the royal couple as a freshman at the American College of Monaco. Prince Rainier was our president and Jacques Cousteau, our chancellor when I attended (1969-70) before the school went bankrupt. (It was conceived and being run by Princess Grace’s brother in Philadelphia). At a cookout in the Palace garden, I swam with Caroline, Stephanie, and Albert (along with their petite white French poodle) in an orange bathing suit Princess Grace loaned me. She and Prince Rainier cracked jokes and made our student body of 25 feel right at home at the Palais. Grace, my idol, was gorgeous and gracious—rather like an American Catherine Deneuve.
Duane wanted to buy a souvenir for me and while deliberating over a pricy “Monaco” Swiss Army knife, he mentioned to the shopkeeper I knew Princess Grace. With a tear in her eye, she offered him the knife for half of the asking price. The people of Monaco and many others adored their fairytale prince and princess. That era remains vivid and dear in our hearts.
This weekend was special—journées du Patrimoines which celebrate French history with free museum entries.
Three Musketeers visited the Masséna Museum to learn about the history of Nice. Duane, (a great admirer of Napoléon) sent me a photo of Empress Joséphine’s portrait by painter Antoine-Jean Gros.
I’d normally be upset to miss these outings on my beloved Côte d’Azur, but I’ve been ok staying put to reminisce, do laps around the spacious balcony, and paint when pain killers kick in. As I absorb the beauty of Cimiez, near Matisse’s home and museum in the heights high above Nice, I’ve been dreaming of his paintings and papercuts. Matisse has been keeping me company. I’m grateful to have this time to absorb him and see where his inspiration will lead me.
But yesterday, I was determined to attend the Cimiez Vide Grenier, “empty the attic”—my favorite type of French flea and antique market. Duane—our devoted expert chauffeur—let me descend as close as he could. (His navigating our rental car in narrow streets and constrained parking spots is truly admirable.) I was ecstatic at each table to converse with myriad ladies selling their wares, haute couture, books, toys, and little treasures that none of us could resist. We returned with shopping bags filled with stylish jackets, blouses, scarves, jewelry, and an unexpected Che Guevara poster. We dined on our terrace with its stunning view.
We just dropped off our friends at the airport and leave for Valence tomorrow. Provence is spectacular in any circumstance—even when coping with senior challenges.
Marguerite Jill Dye is an artist and writer who divides her time between Killington and Bradenton, Florida. She loves to hear from her readers at jilldyestudio@aol.com. Please spread the word—her column is online with updates from France for several weeks.
