Day 16: Toulon (Le Pradet)

I feel extremely welcome in Martine's house. This is my connection to Martine: she is my godmother's brother-in-law's (or my best friend's uncle's) host sister from when he studied abroad in France 30+ years ago. When I first arrived yesterday, after showering, I sat with her and she asked "So, who are you?" Though she knows nothing about me, she has cooked for me, shared with me, and asked me to make myself at home.

This morning she and her husband left the house, left me the key, and planned for me to meet Martine and her friend at the market by the church after freshening up. I was excited to try the clawfoot tub, but as things in old houses sometimes stick, I had trouble turning on the cold water. I got it! But then it wouldn't turn off... Water was gushing full speed faster than it could drain. I turned as hard as I could, hit the knob with my shampoo bottle, then found a mallet and hit it with that. No luck. The tub was filling. I grabbed a phone and called Martine's cell. No answer. I tried again and again leaving increasingly frantic messages as the tub filled higher and higher. I then grabbed my sandals and ran barefoot to the market asking "Ou est le iglese?!" (I don't speak French, but it's similar enough to Spanish.) I searched every cafe table, every booth. The tub must be almost full. Then I saw her. She got my messages and had left to shut the water off to the house. She explained she is cursed by water -- she also has a leaky pool-- and that old houses have such charm.



The market was great. The produce is all local, and Martine is in the know about what to get where. The spice man is wonderful and tells great stories. The shoe salesman's daughter went to school with her daughter. Olives should be bought at the market in Toulon. The best bread comes from this boulangerie. These oysters are not as good as the smaller ones in Brittany. Martine also makes her own products and gets a lot from her friends. She served fig jam from her garden with goat cheese her friend brought from a goat farmer friend. At breakfast i tried a friend's homemade marmalade. We ate grape tomatoes from the neighbors, chocolate cake from Bruno's patient, homemade orange and lemon wine from a friend. Martine introduced me to the vendors and I bought nuts, dried fruit, lavender, wine, and a new dress, which doubled my trip wardrobe.



Traditionally, lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Since Bruno has Fridays off we enjoyed a several course lunch by the pool, starting with rose wine and ending with expresso and a nap. Since the water was off (due to the tub incident) I had a French bath beforehand. They thought this was a funny expression. Martine and oldest son Gesperd:



Martine and I went to the beach after napping, though it's unusually cool for this time of year. Locals complain it's too cold (it's high 70's with cool breezes). We walked behind the town on a wooded path and arrived at the beach. No one was in the water. We put our feet in and it was very cold, and the breeze didn't help. Then Martine went for it. She's used to swimming in Brittany where her family vacations. I didn't want to be a coward so I jumped in too. It felt shockingly warm after getting out, though the water was drying on our skin. The water was 16 degrees Celcius.



Everything here smells good. The air, the spices, the lavender. I love that we can leave the windows open, and clothes off the clothesline smell great. I keep my bag of lavender by my bed. Bruno fixed the tub and I finally got my clawfoot bath. It was delicious.


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