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A Tale of Twin Toyotas –and WOE

Two Americans living in southern France set off to Germany to buy a car. Not a Porsche (pity). Not a Mercedes. Not a BMW. Not even an Audi. But — a Toyota! No, not a new model, but a very old Toyota (2004).

Crazy? Bizarre? Idiotic?

Perhaps a bit of all. Here’s the story. Two years before moving to France from Germany 12 years ago, we bought a royal blue Toyota Yaris Verso. The back seats of this minivan collapse and slide under the front seats, leaving lots of rear space, enough for two bicycles standing up. That was the selling factor. We could park the car anywhere with the bikes chained and locked inside. And, it was easier to put them inside the car instead of on the roof.

Back then we did lots of pedaling. The bikes went with us on cycling trips all over Germany, Austria, Switzerland and France. All l that space was also practical when making large purchases: washing machine, mattress, cases of wine.

We love this car. It has been reliable, trouble free. It now has some 255,000 km, but has had only minor repairs. We knew it could not last forever and were getting worried. No reason to spend big bucks on a new car at our age. Besides, Toyota no longer makes this model and we found no others with the same features and known reliability.

Bicycle Bob (BB) dove into Internet research on used Toyotas. He claims he could not find any in France. No wonder. I later learned that all his Toyota finds were coming from a German web site. He said he would feel better buying a used car from a German rather than a Frenchman. Those neighbors to the north treat their cars with over-the-top TLC, like rare endangered species. Check out the cars in parking lots in France. Dents. Dirt. Rust.

The cars he was finding were old, but there were many with far fewer kilometers than ours. We had to see a car before buying it, and probably look at more than one car before purchase. That meant a train trip to Germany, hotel and meal expenses etc. The price tag was climbing.

No matter. We could do more in Germany than look at cars: Satisfy cravings for good beer and hearty cuisine, visit friends, perhaps even see some new sights. He found versions of the desired Toyota all over Germany – Leipzig, Zweibrucken, Hamburg, Munich. We had to narrow our selection lest we spend weeks canvassing the entire country.

So, one dreary day in February we hopped aboard the TGV (fast train) from Aix to Frankfurt, then another train to nearby Erlensee where a friendly car salesman met us and took us to see the first selection. It looked just like our car, same bright blue, just two years younger (2004) but with a mere 134,000 km.

Promising, but we had another car to see in Kulmbach, three autobahn hours away. We rented a car for that trip. It rained. It poured for the entire drive. We checked out the second Toyota . Both cars were in immaculate condition. Each car had had just one owner, elderly folks like us.

The blue Toyota owner had been male; the silver Toyota had been in the possession of a female. We test drove both cars. “There is something I don’t like about the clutch in this car,” BB said of the silver one, knowing it had had a woman owner. He maintains women drivers often ride the clutch. A sexist view, in my opinion. “I think this car could have a problem,” he insisted. I found nothing wrong with it, but he makes the car decisions. Besides, the silver color was wimpish . And, the salesman was anything but accommodating. Our salesman in Erlensee, a Jordanian, was terrific, helpful.

toyota.5 — Trying different brews in Kulmbach.

We spent the rest of the day and an overnight in Kulmbach before returning to claim the blue baby. The rain never stopped, but great beer made up for it. Kulmbach is noted for its beer. We visited an artisanal brewery, bought beer to bring home, toured a beer and bread museum – all wunderbar.

We figured it would be a multi-step procedure to finalize the sale and get the car temporarily registered and insured for the trip back to France. Never underestimate the Germans. Our salesman took us to a trailer type office in a parking lot where, within a half hour, all was complete, including temporary plates on the car.

toyota.12 — Seeking solace from German rain.

We set off in our new old car south to Darmstadt to visit old friends, enjoy more beer and hearty food, and then on to Basel, where we were married 26 years ago. The nostalgia visit to this Swiss city was more than moist. The rain, six days of it in Germany, followed us to Switzerland. We spent a day indoors, visiting some interesting museums, before coming home to France where we did find sunshine, but also frustration, headaches, obstacles.

toyota.8 — Giacometti at Fondation Beyeler in Basel.

I knew car registration in France would never be the smooth and easy process it was in Germany, however…. We started the process after our return, Feb. 15. On March 22, 36 days later, it was finally finished…or so I thought.

We began the ordeal with a visit to the mayor’s office in Reillanne, our town. Then the tax office in Manosque (1/2 hour away). We had to go there twice since we did not have one of the required documents the first time. From there we were sent to Digne, a city about 1 ½ hours away and the seat of our region’s “prefecture,” the folks who could make our car legal in France. We thought we had all the required documents.

toyota.7 — Dubuffet at Fondation Beyeler in Basel

At the tax office in Manosque we had been given a list of requirements: six documents. The woman in Digne gave us a longer list: 10 different documents. Sacre Bleu! We did not have the “Certificat de conformite,” a document which could only come from Toyota. And, we were told the safety inspection document we had from Germany would not fly. It was several months old. So, we had to make an appointment and have the car inspected in France and get yet another document.

Off we went to our nearest Toyota dealer, 1/2 hour away. A young man filled out a form requesting all sorts of technical details on the car. We sent that form and a check for 150 euro to Toyota headquarters in France — fortunately not in Japan. A week later we had the form. We were making progress.

On our second trip to Digne, miracle of miracles, we had all the correct papers. We received a temporary registration. We went to a nearby garage and had plates made – instantly. We were overwhelmed. The French are efficient at something.

Tcar.4 — The French have mastered instant license plates.

Only insurance left to conquer. We have our cars insured with a bank in the town of Pertuis (45 minutes away), but we arranged for temporary insurance by phone, and followed up with a visit to the bank last week to sign the form.

We were elated. Finally all finished. Not quite. Today I received a letter from the prefecture in Digne. They need the original car registration from Germany immediately. I checked our thick folder of documents on this car. We do not have it. I am certain we turned it in with all the other papers to the woman in Digne. ???

Will they cancel the registration without it? Seize the car? Insist we contact the German registration office and get a new ”original” on a car that was registered 12 years ago?

Moral of the story: If you live in France, buy a car in France.

toyota.3 — No, not our old Toyota, but a Tinguely creation at the Tinguely Museum in Basel.

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Highlights of the Midi-Pyrénées

Strains of “The House of the Rising Sun” reverberated through the massive edifice. This was not a rock concert. No one was singing.

The sounds came from a powerful organ played by a monk in the abbey church of Ste. Foy. The Animals 1964 hit about a brothel in New Orleans seemed a strange choice of music in this religious shrine.

It was electrifying, and the perfect background for a nighttime tour of this Romanesque temple in Conques, a picture-perfect village in southwestern France.

Every evening from May through September at 9:30 p.m., visitors are permitted to wander freely around the upper galleries of the church, normally off limits, to look down at the vast nave, to study the unique windows, to look up at the sculpted capitals of columns, each a magnificent work of antique art. Spot lights grow dim and then brighter, highlighting architectural details. Shadows move. The music entrances. Even for the non-religious, this is a spiritual experience, a sound and light show like no other.

Conques was my favorite of the many places visited on a recent tour of the Midi-Pyrénées region in this corner of France. It’s easy to understand why it was named one of the “plus beaux villages de France,” (one of the most beautiful villages in France). The tiny burg of Romanesque fountains and half-timbered houses is nestled in a valley surrounded by green.

The abbey church’s roots go back to the eighth century when a Benedictine monastery was established at the site in the wilderness. Relics were needed to give the new monastery clout. In the ninth century a monk set off to Agen and came back with part of the skull of Saint Foy, a Christian who had been martyred in the town in 303 AD. Miracles were soon attributed to the relic, and Conques became a pilgrimage site, a holy place to visit on the road to Santiago de Compostela, the well-known pilgrimage destination in northwestern Spain.

Today about 13,000 pilgrims per year visit Conques, a town with just 90 year-round residents. Most visit the Treasury as well as the church. Lavish, bejeweled gold and silver reliquaries are displayed in glass enclosed cases. The most elaborate is said to contain the foreskin of Christ. “How do you know it’s the foreskin of Christ?” asked a doubting visitor. “I don’t know. I was not present at the Circumcision,” quipped the guide.

The Conques abbey Church has another attraction – windows designed by the French contemporary artist Pierre Soulages. These bear no resemblance to the usual church stained glass windows, but were designed to let light penetrate the grandiose yet somber structure. The Soulages windows, geometric shapes of glass of varying density, change color depending on the exterior light.

Models of Soulages windows in the Rodez museum.

Soulages was born in 1919 in Rodez, a Midi- Pyrénées town now a must for contemporary art fans. In May, the Soulages Museum opened with some 500 works of the renowned abstract artist who is known for his devotion to the color black.

Another artist, born some 150 years ago, was the reason for a visit to Chateau du Bosc. As a young boy, the famous post-impressionist painter, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec who hails from nearby Albi, spent summers in the chateau. Today a distant relative gives fascinating tours of the grandiose medieval house which is her home. Nicole-Berangere Tapie de Celeyran, 89, tiny, frail, and slightly hunch backed, charges up the long staircases with the vitality of a teenager, visitors following behind. From the kitchen where she points out Lautrec’s sketches on the wall, she continues upstairs to a lavish salon and dining room, a bedroom, hallways, and then into the garden.

“I love to talk. I want to preserve this house, the spirit of the family,” she says. She also wants to show Lautrec mementoes and correct misconceptions about the legendary artist.

She embellishes the tour with stories passed on from her grandmother and other ancestors who knew the artist. Lautrec’s father and uncles often went hunting, I learned. They’d come back after an outing and relate tales of their adventures. Young Lautrec sat on the floor, using coal from the fireplace to make drawings of their exploits, she said. In his bedroom, the floor scattered with toys, she pointed out a boat Lautrec had made after his accident.

At ages 13 and 14, Lautrec had two bad falls resulting in broken legs which never healed properly. He stopped growing, reaching only 4 feet 9 inches. He developed an adult size torso, but child size legs and was unable to participate in sports. He immersed himself in art instead.

The chateau visit was ideal background for a visit to the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum in Albi.

Lautrec’s cabaret posters have become synonymous with Paris and Montmartre, the area of Paris famous for its bohemian lifestyle and the haunt of artists, writers, and philosophers in the late 1800s. More than 1,000 of his works – paintings, lithographs, drawings, as well as the famous posters — are on display in the Albi museum which has the largest collection of his works in the world.

“What is important in a painting is the person. Landscape is secondary. That was his philosophy,” a museum guide said. He painted psychological portraits, and he understood advertising, hence the posters, she explained. Lautrec was an alcoholic and died at the age of 37 due to complications of alcoholism and syphilis.

Albi, a UNESCO World Heritage site, hugs the banks of the Tarn River where it is spanned by an ancient bridge. The spires of the city’s mighty cathedral dominate the skyline for a scene almost too picture-perfect. The cathedral, Sainte Cecile, is the only cathedral in France that is still completely painted with the original 15th century paint still intact. During the Middle Ages, church interiors were painted although the paint on most has long since vanished. It survived here because the cathedral is very dark.

Albi’s museum of miniatures is curious if not incredible. It houses 55 miniature rooms all made by a 79-year-old woman who started the project 40 years ago. As a child she wanted a dollhouse, but she never got one. So, at the age of 39 she set out to make her own, room by room. The museum curator told us that it takes her from six months to a year to make one room. She is now busy making a miniature church.

Toulouse, the capital of the Midi-Pyrénées and France’s fourth largest city, is also the European capital of aeronautics and the home of Airbus. The university city, often called the “ville rose” (pink city) due the bricks it produces which have been used in the construction of many of its buildings, is vibrant and attractive with magnificent churches, lively markets and excellent restaurants.

Saint Sernin Basilica, the largest complex of Romanesque buildings in the world, is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site because it was a major stop en route to Santiago de Compostela.

The Jacobin Monastery, stark on the outside, is a marvel inside with famous and unique palm tree arches.

The heart of Toulouse is the Capitole, the city hall and its courtyard with a statue of Henry IV. The 18^th century neo-classical façade of the elongated building dominates a large square that is always a hub of activity. Seats at one of its outdoor cafes are in demand.

The cuisine of southwestern France is legendary. For more about it, as well as well-known restaurants in the Midi-Pyrénées, see previous post, “Fabulous French Dining, a Post for Foodies.” I love to know what readers think about my posts, so please comment. See Leave a Reply below. And, don’t forget Today’s Taste, a recipe for Thai Green Beans, column at upper right. If you go…

Chateau du Bosc is located in Naucelle, 30 minutes by car from Albi. Madame Tapie de Celeyran gives guided tours only in French, but guided tours in English by other staff members who know all about Lautrec are offered year round from 10 a.m. until 7 p.m. If you visit, you are sure to meet Madame who loves to welcome visitors. + 33 (0) 5 65 69 20 83

Museum Toulouse-Lautrec, Palais de la Berbie, Albi, +33 (0)5 63 49 48 70 www.musee-toulouse-lautrec.com

Museum of Miniatures, 16 Rue Rinaldi, Albi, +33 (0)5 63 79 00 98, www.academiedesminiatures.fr

Soulages Museum, Jardin du Foirail, Avenue Victor Hugo, Rodez, +33 (0)5 65 73 82 60, www.musee-soulages.grand-rodez.com

Recommended Hotels

The Hotel Mercure Albi Bastides on the banks of the Tarn has the perfect location for admiring – and photographing – Albi. Moulins Albigeois, 41 rue Porta, 8100 Albi, + 33 (0) 5 63 47 66 66 www.mercure.com/Albi

The Hotel Restaurant Hervé Busset, in a wooded setting on the banks of the lively Dourdou River just outside Conques, is a true delight. An old mill was transformed into an inn with a lovely riverside terrace for relaxing and/or dining. And, the food – fabulous. Busset has earned one Michelin star with his cuisine which makes use of plants and flowers from his garden. Domaine de Cambelong, 12320 Conques, +33 (0)5 65 72 83 91 www.moulindecambelong.com

Location, Location, Location – Toulouse’s Grand Hotel de l’Opera can’t be beat. Facing the heart of town, the Place du Capitole, the charming boutique hotel is located in a former convent of the 17^th century. Place du Capitole, 31000 Toulouse, +33 (0) 61 21 82 66 www.grand-hotel-opera.com/uk

Italy’s German Accent: Sud Tyrol

Signs advertising “Speck” everywhere we looked: along the roads, in shop windows, at street stands. ”Speck” is German for bacon, but we had just come down the mountains from Switzerland into Italy, not Germany.

This was northern Italy, known as Sud Tyrol in German and Alto Adige in Italian. The majority of the population speaks German – and obviously eats plenty of Speck. Ordinary bacon this regional specialty is not, nor should it be confused with Italian prosciutto (ham). Speck is rubbed with herbs, spices and berries, smoked for different lengths of time with different hardwoods, and air dried in the area’s mountain climate. This makes it distinct, unique – the echt expression of the region.

Speckmantel gebratener Ziegenkase auf gedunsten Feldsalt (Goat cheese enveloped in Speck -- yummy) — Speckmantel gebratener Ziegenkase auf gedunsten Feldsalt (Goat cheese enveloped in Speck — yummy)

I was on my annual trip to research articles for the magazine German Life, with BB as my chauffeur, Sherpa and trusty companion. After a few days in Leukerbad, a Swiss spa town in the Alps, followed by a visit to Davos, we proceeded to this intriguing part of Italy.

Since German predominates here, I’ll call it Sud Tyrol. Our travels took us to Merano, Bolzano, Brixen, and lovely spots in between. We found it all enticing and enjoyed two fascinating museums, picturesque hikes, the charming towns, some excellent meals and a wonderful hotel. BB, who sadly does not do much biking these days but is passionate about wine, was thrilled with the local vintages. I may have to change his name from Bicycle Bob (BB) to Vino Roberto (VR). Which shall it be?

Merano (Meran) is a marvel, a beauty of a town on the banks of the frisky Passirio River with fanciful flower beds, an arcaded shopping street and a spa center, all surrounded by mountains. The riverside summer and winter promenades (passeggiate d’Inverno and passeggiate d’Estate) – paths through woods, past flowers and tropical plants, with the sounds of the rambunctious river tumbling over rocks, are glorious. We stopped to watch a kayaker practice on surging rapids.

“North and south meet here. It’s the best of two worlds,” said our Bolzano city guide, Luciano Rech, who filled us in on the region’s history. Sud Tyrol was part of the Austro-Hungarian empire until World War I during which Italy initially remained neutral. In 1915, as an incentive to enter on their side, the Triple Alliance (Germany, Austria and Hungary) offered Italy a chunk of land, all territories south of the Alpine water divide regardless of the ethnic makeup of the regions. At the time, 92.2 per cent of the population was said to be ethnic Germans. In 1919 the territory was annexed by Italy, and has been Italian ever since, with the exception of the years 1943-1945 when it was de facto annexed to the German Reich until the fall of Germany. Both German and Italian are considered official languages.

It has not always been a peaceful co-existence, marred at times by repression and terrorism. During the 1930s and again in the 1950s Italians were forcibly resettled to the region. According to the 2011 census, German speakers make up 61.5 percent of the population, Italian speakers, 23.1 percent, and 4 percent speak Ladin, an ancient language derived from Latin. All seems peaceful, and the region has a significant degree of autonomy. However, there are still some who resent being under the yoke of Rome and argue for independence.

“I’m Tyrolean” announces Rech. “I don’t feel we are the same as people from Naples, Rome.” Many others I spoke too echoed his sentiments.Bolzano (Bozen), a bustling city and the capital of Sud Tyrol, is the home of Ötzi, the mummy of an Iceman discovered in

1991 in the mountains at the edge of a melting glacier. The museum where he is preserved behind glass is a must with enlightening exhibits of garb and objects that were found with him. And, extensive documentation, including videos, on the sensational find and what has been learned from and about Ötzi. He died 5,300 years ago after having been shot by an arrow, presumably murdered.

Famous mountain climber Reinhold Messner (first solo ascent of Mt. Everest without supplemental oxygen) has created the Messner Mountain Museum outside of town on the slopes of a mountain and in the ruins of a castle. It’s a genuine mountain experience, with lots of steps (I felt we were back in Myanmar), skinny walkways, metal ladders and fabulous views. Follow the itinerary in and out of buildings, up slopes and towers, across bridges, past exhibits on his climbs, mountain terrain, Himalayan artifacts and more. Messner, who is a native of Brixen in Sud Tyrol, has established four other mountain museums in the province.

En route to Bolzano we stopped for an overnight so we could take a hike in the hills and soak in the scenery. We trekked amongst grape vines and apple orchards, and stumbled upon some sexy snakes. We had a wonderful lunch at an eatery under an arbor of grape vines with gorgeous views. The food, especially the apple strudel, was definitely more Germanic than Italian. The proprietors also sell wine, so of course we tasted and bought.

Unfortunately we did not make it to the mighty Dolomites which are part of the province for some real mountain hiking. After Bolzano we spent two nights at an inn, the Ansitz Zehentner, in the town of Lajen (Laion) where a rollicking fest was underway when we arrived. Women in dirndls. Men in trachten (traditional costume). Plenty of beer. And, blasen music (wind instruments). We could have been back in Germany.

Frau Schenk, proprietor of the inn which dates back to 1358, suggested a hike through fields and forests to a well-known hotel and restaurant , Gasthof Ansitz Fonteklaus. Sitting outside under mammoth trees amidst the mountain scenery was perfect — and so was the food.

Our travels ended in Brixen (Bressanone), another gem of a town, where we splurged and spent a night at the classy Elephant Hotel with an excellent dinner in the hotel’s noted restaurant. The 450-year old hotel has been run by the same family since 1773. It was named after the pachyderm which was sent by Suleiman I to Archduke Maximilan as a gift in 1551. The elephant had a long journey from India, to Portugal, then Genoa and onto the Alps where it rested at the inn in Brixen, causing a sensation among the locals who had never seen such a beast, en route to Vienna. The elephant fresco on the hotel’s façade was painted many, many years later by someone who had never seen an elephant but based his rendering on descriptions. What happened to the well-traveled elephant? I learned that after the epic journey it only survived another two years.

Before heading back to France I stopped at a butcher shop and loaded up on some very savory sausage — and Speck.

For more information:

Bolzano: www.bolzano-bozen.it

Ötzi : www.iceman.it

Messner Mountain Museum: www.messner-mountain-museum.it

Excellent central hotel in Bolzano (Stadt Hotel Citta): www.hotelcitta.info

Ansitz Zehentner: www.zehentnerhof.com

Hotel Elephant: www.hotelelephant.com

Comments welcome and appreciated. Today’s Taste features a recipe for Rhubarb Streusel Pie. If you like rhubarb, you’ll love this. See “Today’s Taste” at the top of this post. While you are up there, sign up to become a Tales and Travel follower.

Trip finale -- dinner in the romantic Hotel Elephant dining room. — Trip finale — dinner in the romantic Hotel Elephant dining room.

In love with Paris (with restaurant tips)

Gloomy gray clouds shrouded the March sun. The waters of the Seine were dull and dismal. No flowers blooming in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

St.-Suplice -- near our Paris chanbre d'hote. — St.-Suplice — near our Paris chambre d’hote.

It was spring in Paris, the week before Easter. Hardy souls braved the chill and sat outdoors at sidewalk cafes, but bundled up in their winter wardrobes.

Like in much of Europe this year, winter in Paris was not about to make a timely exit. Never mind. For me, Paris is always fabulous. Even without the warmth and sparkle of sunshine, husband Bob and I enjoyed good food, museum visits, fun shopping, and meeting friends during our recent stay in my favorite city. And, we did have a few hours of glorious sun.

The reason for this trip was a watch. Not just any watch, but an antique enameled pocket watch my mother had given me years ago. She said it was worth ”thousands” and I should take it to a museum. It has been buried in a drawer for years. I decided I’d like to sell it and was advised to take it to a classy auction house in Paris. My dear mother suffered from visions of grandeur. Alas the precious watch was not even gold, and not of great worth – but that’s another saga, perhaps another blog.

Watch aside, we kept busy in Paris. Chagall is the focus of a popular exhibit now in the city until July 21, 2013. We set out to see “Chagall Between War and Peace” at the Musée du Luxembourg. Merde — long lines to get in. We are short on patience, but decided to wait it out. The exhibit is extensive and impressive. Unfortunately we found too many people crowded around the chef d’oeuvres. Many stop to photograph the paintings with their cell phones. All a bit claustrophobic, and a pity. I adore Chagall, but could not enjoy his masterpieces in that congested ambience.

The Musée d’Orsay is always a delight. Here too there were long lines for admittance. But, book tickets on line and you can waltz right by the crowds and in the door. We wandered around the second floor admiring magnificent art and Art Nouveau furnishings.

Long lines at Musee d'Orsay. — Long lines at Musee d’Orsay.

All very pleasant. Then up to the fifth floor to see the Impressionists. A mad house. Groups of school children sitting on the floor around paintings as teachers lectured. Hordes of on-lookers crowded around the famous works. We gave up.

A tiny museum with no crowds recommended by a friend is the Musée Dapper with exhibits on African art. We enjoyed an exhibit on African design – strange

chairs and weird wooden head rests which serve as pillows. Interesting, but more so was the collection of large photographs of tribal kings and chiefs from all corners of Africa in all their colorful and amusing regalia. We had the museum to ourselves, and I found an unusual and striking necklace from Senegal in the gift shop.

What every cook needs -- onion goggles. — What every cook needs — onion goggles.

The best trip souvenir, however, is the pair of Oniongoggles that Bob spotted in a kitchen shop. Brilliant. Chop away at onions and never shed a tear. I love them. Two musts for Paris shopping are La Grande Epicerie Paris, the

food hall next door to Le Bon Marché, and the basement of the BHV department store. Food products from all over the world can be found at the former where we head straight to the USA section. We were overjoyed. They stock canned pumpkin (two brands) as

American products at La Greande Epicerie Paris. — American products at La Grande Epicerie Paris.

well as whole cranberry sauce. Bob goes for the cranberries. I use the pumpkin in numerous recipes. Of course, they stock other Ami favorites not available in French supermarkets. Beware: All cost far more than they would at Kroger’s.

The BHV basement is the mother of all hardware stores. They even have a shoe repair section where you can have belts

made, as well as shoes repaired. We like the large selection of off-the-wall signs.

Food is always at the top of our list. As Paris is very expensive, I did extensive research before departure to zero in on good but affordable eateries. Fancy Michelin starred restaurants are beyond our budget. There were winners and losers.

Our first meal this trip took us back to a favorite, Chez Fernand. We split an entrée of ravioli de Royan, tiny raviolis in a tasty chive cream sauce, then each had fish – one cod and one sea bass. Both prepared to perfection and served with spinach purée. A meal is not a meal without dessert for Bob. He ordered crème brulée. Tab with a half liter of wine: 80,50 euros. ($103)

The most amazing bargain was in the 13^th arrondissement at Lao Lane Xang which specializes in Laotian, Vietnamese and Thai cuisines. A luncheon special of four different dishes plus a glass of wine: 10,80 euros. ($13.80) I chose Huong Lan, a Vietnamese combo: Pâtés impériaux au poulet, salade de papaye vietnamienne au bœuf sèche, poulet au caramel and riz blanc parfumé. Bob went for the Thai plateau with a main dish of poulet au lait de coco et curry rouge. For dessert he tried Mokeng coconut flan, a creamy green concoction that was excellent.

We love Italian food. Unfortunately in the area of Provence where we live, except for pizzerias, Italian restaurants do not exist. A Paris favorite in the 6^th is Il Suppli, a tiny, cozy romantic spot on two levels. Here we split a mixed salad, then each had an excellent pasta creation. Bob’s dessert, Tiramisu, was a disappointment. But the wine, a bottle of Montepulciano, was good. This, plus two coffees: 87 euros. ($111)

Another bargain lunch awaited at Au Rocher de Cancale, a place dating back

to the early 19^th century that was mentioned in a New York Times article. We dined upstairs surrounded mainly by young Parisians, all indulging in enormous salads. The restaurant must have at least a dozen different salad combinations. We split an Italian salad (14,50 euros) then each had one of the specials of the day (14,60 euros each), cod with copious quantities of green beans and cauliflower purée. (We like fish). Here the dessert boy had to pass. He was stuffed. Total for above plus a half liter of wine and two coffees: 64,90 euros. ($83)

Most fun meal: A la Biche au Bois which was also recommended in my reading, including kudos from Patricia Wells, former food editor of the International Herald Tribune and one of my food idols. It is also close to the Gare de Lyon, so we could eat and then catch the train home.

The restaurant is a typical bustling Parisian bistro — crowded, noisy, with very good, basic bistro fare. Our waiter, Bernard, was chatty and helpful. He had lived in Canada and was happy to speak English. The price was right, four

Bertrand knows his wine. — Bernard knows his wine.

courses: entrée, main dish, cheese and dessert, 29.80 euro per person. The entrées were not that exciting – a poached egg creation for me and rillettes of salmon for Bob. For the main course, I ordered the daily special, partridge, and Bob went for a restaurant specialty, Coq au Vin. Both very good. Bernard recommended a wonderful white wine, Menetou-Salon, Domaine Phillipe Gilbert (near Sancerre). And, he gave us each a shot of cognac for a “bon voyage.” Two menus plus a bottle of wine: 84,10 euros. ($108)

: Partridge- a delicious delicacy.

In our neighborhood, we tried two other restaurants, La Boussole and La Giara – neither worth a repeat.

We also had a very delicious (Osso Buco) and memorable meal chez friends Leonard and Claudine. Leonard is a former colleague of mine from the military

newspaper Stars and Stripes in Germany. He still lives in Darmstadt part time, and part time with Claudine in a lovely apartment on the 28^th floor of a building in an area called Olympiades. The huge apartment windows offer great views of the sprawling city with Sacre Coeur on a distant hilltop.

My Japanese sister-in-law who lives in Boulder has a cousin in Paris whom she has never met. We met Sachie at a café and had a delightful chat. We hope she will come to visit us in Provence – and that my sister-in-law Yoshie will get to meet her charming cousin one day.

Sun would have been welcome, but even without it, Paris was wonderful. Of course, it would have been even better if I could have peddled the watch for “thousands.”

For friend Jane’s birthday, I made Rum Cake. See recipe in Recipe column at right. Comments on blog post and recipes are welcome. See “Leave a Reply” below under Comments. Subscribers also welcome. Don’t miss future posts. Click on Email Subscription at top right.

More Information:

Dapper Museum, 35 rue Paul Valéry, Metro: Victor Hugo, www.dapper.com

Musée du Luxembourg, 19 rue de Vaugirard, Metro : Luxembourg, www.museeduluxembourg.fr

Musée d’Orsay, 62 rue de Lille, Metro : Musée d’Orsay or Solferino, www.musee-orsay.fr

La Grande Epicerie Paris, the food hall next door to Le Bon Marché, 24 Rue de Sèvres, Metro: Sèvres-Babylone, www.bonmarche.fr

BHV, 52-64 rue de Rivoli, Metro : Hôtel de Ville, www.bhv.fr

Chez Fernand, 13, rue Guisarde, Tel: 01 43 54 61 47, Metro: Mabillon (open 7 days a week)

Lao Lane Xang, 102 Ave. d’Ivry, Tel. 01 58 89 00 00, Metro: Tolbiac

Il Suppli, 2, rue de condé, Tel. 01 40 46 99 74, Metro: Odéon

Au Rocher de Cancale, 78 rue Montorgueil, Tel. 01 42 33 50 29, Metro: Châtelet-Les Halles

A la Biche au Bois, 45 Ave. Ledru Rolllin, Tel. 01 43 43 34 38, Metro: Gare de Lyon

NICE: Enchantment on the Riviera

I wrote the following for the newspaper Stars and Stripes three years ago after a visit to Nice. I’ve been back several times, most recently after Christmas. This time we lounged on the beach, enjoyed delicious food, and soaked up that seductive ambience of the Cote d’Azur. Nice — it’s my kind of town..

After many, many years in Germany, my husband and I and our two cats (we now have three) left Deutschland behind and moved to the hinterlands of Provence in southern France. We’ve been here five years (now eight), and it’s lovely. We don’t regret the move. But I’ve found a corner of this part of the world I like even more: Nice.

Our quiet life in the countryside has its pluses, but I miss the vibrancy and excitement of a city. Nice offers that, as well as the sea and beaches, museums, markets, intriguing old town, excellent restaurants, lush parks and outstanding architecture, all wrapped in an enchanting ambience.

France’s fifth largest city is the capital of the glamorous French Riviera. There’s plenty of elegance along the Promenade des Anglais, its seaside boulevard lined with palms and turn-of-the-century hotels and grand apartments. There are traces of North Africa in the tangle of dark alleys of Vieux Nice, (old Nice). The outdoor markets and restaurants, as well as the numerous street stands, capture the flair of neighboring Italy. It’s an irresistible mélange.

Nice’s roots go back thousands of years to prehistoric times. By the 4^th century it was settled by Greeks, followed by Romans, then Saracens. Nice was part of the House of Savoy (Italy) from 1388 until 1860 when citizens voted to join the Second French Empire.

The English discovered its charms in the 18^th century, followed by those from other countries, especially Russians. The Cathedral of Saint Nicholas, commissioned by Czar Nicholas II and inaugurated in 1912, is the largest Russian religious edifice outside Russia, and a top tourist attraction.

By the 19^th century Nice had become a favorite winter haunt for the British. It was an Englishman, Reverend Lewis Way, who is responsible for widening a former water front footpath in 1820 at his expense which was dubbed “Chemin des Anglais” (road of the English). In 1931 it took its final form, two roads with a palm-planted center strip, and became known as the Promenade des Anglais.

On one side of the famous avenue are Belle Époque buildings. On the opposite side are miles of beaches. Thanks to Nice’s microclimate, even in winter you can sit at a beach café and soak in the rays. You may even see brave souls who spread their towels in the sand and sunbathe in bathing suits. In summer, of course, the beaches are crowded with both tourists and locals.

During our winter visit, after a stroll along the beach we climbed the steps to Castle Hill where a citadel once stood. It’s now a maze of greenery, perfect for getting some exercise and enjoying superb views of Nice, its beaches and harbor, with the backdrop of hills and the distant Alps.

We took the easy way down, riding an Art Deco lift which deposited us on the edge of Vieux Nice. I love taking pictures at the flower market on the Cours Saleya in the heart of the old town. I also love wandering in the labyrinth alleys in this part of the city, checking out funky boutiques, admiring Baroque churches, taking more pictures. One place that has become a favorite is Oliviera, a shop with 17 different kinds of olive oil where owner Nadim Berouti is happy to offer tastings. The shop also has a mini-restaurant.

“When I understood that every morning I would see again this light, I could not believe how happy I was,” artist Henri Matisse wrote about Nice. The light of the Riviera has inspired numerous artists, not just Matisse who lived in the city from 1917 until his death in 1954. A Nice museum devoted to his works is a must.

We rode a bus up the hill to the Cimiez district where the museum is located in a 17^th century Genoese villa. Works from every period of the artist’s life are on display, including early paintings, the famous gouache cut-outs, studies (drawings etc.) for his renowned chapel in Vence, even personal effects such as Venetian furniture and Oriental wall hangings.

It was a long hike back to the center, but worth the trek to admire great pillared houses and rows of cypress trees along the route.

The Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in the heart of the city is another gem with a collection of 400 works including sculptures and canvases by New Realists, Pop artists including Andy Warhol, whimsical creations by one of my favorites, Niki de Sainte-Phalle, and more. The avant-garde building with glassed-in ramps around an atrium is a sensation, as are the great views from its roof terrace.

We ran out of time and postponed a visit to Nice’s Chagall museum for another trip when we rode the Nice hop-on, hop-off tourist bus to the museum where I was in awe. The 17 huge, colorful paintings depicting Biblical scenes are amazing. Also to marvel are mosaics, stained glass windows and tapestries.

The bus stops at other tourist highlights, including the Russian church. It’s a great way to take in the city, its neighborhoods and seaside panoramas, as well as travel to the sights. Head sets offer fascinating commentary in numerous languages.

When we get too old for life in the country, maybe we can move to Nice.

TIPS FOR TOURING NICE:

Le Grand Tour, Nice’s hop-on, hop off tourist bus with 14 stops www.nicelegrandtour.com

Nice’s flower market on the Cours Saleya takes place everyday from 6 a.m. until 5:30 p.m. except Monday when it is replaced with an antiques market.

Oliviera for olive oil and small meals. 8 bis, rue du Collet in Vieux Nice, www.oliviera.com

Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Promenade des Arts, open daily from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m. except Mondays and some holidays. Entrance is free. www.mamac-nice.org

Matisse Museum, 164 avenue des Arènes de Cimiez, open daily except Tuesday from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m. Entrance is free. www.musee-matisse-nice.org

Marc Chagall National Museum, avenue du docteur Ménard, open daily except Tuesday and some holidays from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. from May to October. From November to April from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission: 7,50 euros. http://www.musee-chagall.fr

Excellent centrally located accommodations at the 4-star Hotel Le Grimaldi, 15, rue Grimaldi. Rates vary with season, from 99 euros for a double in low season. www.le-grimaldi.com

Favorite restaurant: La Zucca Magica (the magic pumpkin), a vegetarian restaurant run by Italians. The decor is pumpkins, gourds and squash — hanging from the ceiling, on the tables and window sills, depicted in paintings and photos on the walls. It’s dimly lit with flickering candles, cozy and inviting. There is no menu. You take a seat, order some wine, and food starts arriving — five different dishes, one after another. www.lazuccamagica.com

More information on Nice at www.nicetourisme.com

Gingered Butternut Squash Soup with Spicy Pecan Cream was a winner at my recent dinner party. Recipe listed in column on right. Comments on blog post and recipes are welcome. See “Leave a Reply” below under Comments. Subscribers also welcome. Don’t miss future posts. Click on Email Subscription at top right