travel – Page 14 – Tales and Travel

Burma Background

Is it Burma or Myanmar? You will hear both. Since 2011 the official name has been the Republic of the Union of Myanmar. The military junta changed the name from Burma, the name used since the mid 19^th century, to Myanmar in 1989. Rangoon became Yangon, and several other place names were also changed — all in an effort to rid the country of British era colonial names.

U Bein teak bridge, 200 yrs. old, Mandalay.

During our travels, we inquired. Which name did citizens prefer? The answer we always got was “Myanmar.”

Following is a brief history lesson – important to understanding Myanmar today.

Burma was a British protectorate from 1885 until 1948 when it gained independence. Civil war among minority groups followed until 1962 when General Ne Win took control and set up the world’s longest running military dictatorship. Industries were nationalized. Tourist visas were limited to one week. Foreign books and magazines were not permitted in the country. Burma was isolated. The economy was in shambles.

In 1988 peaceful protesters took to the streets. Their leader was Aung San Suu Kyi, head of the National League for Democracy (NLD). Military violence quashed the protests, and in 1989 Suu Kyi was placed under house arrest. (She was released in 1995, but put under house arrest twice again.) An election was held in 1990 with the NLD as the winner. However, the military would not relinquish power and many politicians were jailed.

The US and Canada imposed an investment ban on Myanmar in 1997, and in 2000, the EU intensified economic sanctions citing human rights abuses.

Protests broke out again in 2007, with monks taking a leading role. Thousands were arrested, 31 killed including a monk who was beaten to death. In 2008, the country was ravaged by Cyclone Nargis which left 138,000 dead. Shortly thereafter, in wake of criticism following botched up relief efforts, a long promised referendum on constitutional reform was held with the goal of creating a “discipline-flourishing democracy.”

Inn Thein pagoda complex where hundreds of stupas are overgrown with vegetation and crumbling.

Elections took place in 2010, boycotted by the NLD, with the military-backed party the winner. In 2011 a former general, Thein Sein, takes the helm as president and embarks on a series of reforms to direct the country toward democracy. Suu Kyi was released from house arrest. A human rights commission was established. Press censorship was relaxed. Political prisoners were released. And, the door was open to tourists, as well as western companies for investment opportunities.

Those, and other changes that we witnessed, are encouraging. The real proof of democratic progress will come with elections in 2015. According to the current constitution Suu Kyi, the national heroine, is prohibited from running in the presidential contest because her late husband was British. However, the constitution is supposed to be amended to permit her to run.

Dress restrictions for entering religious sites.

Since her party won in bi-elections in 2012, Suu Kyi is a member of parliament. She is adored, revered by the people of Myanmar. Those we spoke to said she could easily win the presidential contest. Their hopes and aspirations lie with her. Will the constitution be amended? If so, will there be a fair election?

According to political commentary, Myanmar has gone too far to turn back the clock. Even without a constitutional amendment and Suu Kyi at the helm, economic progress marches on at a rapid pace. There are no Starbucks and Golden Arches yet in Yangon, but they are sure to come. In this frenzied metropolis, there are clean, modern restaurants serving western food, a few fancy five-star hotels and more to come, multi-lane highways. We found Wi-Fi everywhere we went in Myanmar– usually in the hotel rooms. Construction sites abound. Roads, even in remote areas, are undergoing improvement. More and more tourist sites are installing modern, much appreciated, toilet facilities.

Of course, all is far from golden like the country’s thousands of Buddhas. Ethnic violence between Muslims and Buddhists plagues the western part of the country. According to a United Nations investigation, at least 40 Rohingya Muslims, the persecuted minority group, were massacred in January. The government continues to deny the killings. Guides talked of corruption, a lack of education and opportunities for the poor.

“Before 2010, a Toyota (the car of choice in Myanmar) cost $22,000. Now it costs $10,000. But for the majority, $10,000 is still too much,” said one guide. (Guides did not want their names mentioned in conjunction with quotes. There is still a lingering fear of Big Brother.)

The influx of tourists is helping with more jobs — working in hotels, on construction of tourist facilities, as guides, drivers. That can only get better.

“Before 2011, there were between 700,000 and 800,000 visitors per year to Myanmar,” another guide said. “In 2011 there were 1.05 million tourists, and in 2012, 1.5 million. We expect 3.5 million this year.”

We are glad we got in before the rush. Our trip was booked with Asian Trails (www.asiantrails.info) During our 13-day sightseeing tour we had four different

Guide and Bob at Golden Rock. — Guide Min and Bob at Golden Rock.

guides and drivers, different ones for different regions. We flew from Yangon to Bagan, from Mandaly to Inle Lake, then to Ngapali Beach and back to Yangon. After the tour, we spent 10 blissful days at Ngapali, Myanmar’s unspoiled beach resort. Cost per person: $3,335, which included all transportation, ground and air, within Myanmar, all hotels, two meals per day (except at the beach where only breakfast was included), guide services and admission charges.

The guides all spoke English and were extremely knowledgeable. They pointed out the best places for photos and made sure we got sunset shots. Both guides and drivers were polite, courteous and obliging – often taking us to places that were not on the pre set itinerary.

Bagan, amazing site of thousands of temples

The cars were comfortable and air-conditioned, with bottles of water and handi-wipes provided. The latter were indeed handy to clean dirty feet after barefoot treks through temples. We were delighted with our visit and Asian Trails.

Next Myanmar installment: Myanmar’s Super Sights. Don’t miss it. If you are not already a Tales and Travel follower, sign up by entering your email address at top right. WordPress will email you the link to new posts. Comments welcome. See below, “Leave a Reply.”

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Off to Myanmar

We took off our shoes at least 565 times. We climbed 6,899 steps. We admired 22,576 Buddhas.

I made up the numbers, but they may not be far off. A trip to Myanmar, a fascinating land in the throes of long overdue changes, is much about about temples (you cannot enter wearing shoes), all adorned with countless statues of Buddha. And, many of those temples are accessed only by long climbs up steep steps.

“This is Burma. It is quite unlike any place you know about,” wrote poet and novelist Rudyard Kipling after a visit to the county more than a century ago. Today the country is known as Myanmar, but his words still echo true.

During our travels we were overwhelmed with mind boggling sights: a cave with 8,700 Buddha statues, a giant golden rock miraculously clinging to the edge of a chasm . . .

. . . parades of monks draped in burgundy colored robes lined up to receive food offerings, women whose faces appeared to be smeared with mud…. We visited big, chaotic cities (Yangon and Mandalay).

Women smear their faces with a paste made from logs. It acts as a sun block and moisturizer.

During drives through the countryside we witnessed the simple, primitive way of life of farmers, and often suffered bouncing over rutted roads. We chilled out at a perfect beach resort, not yet spoiled by hordes of tourists. I loved the colorful markets, the tasty food, and learning about the people and their staunch devotion to Buddha. More about all will follow in several blogs.

First, a word about the shaky start of this incredible voyage. Facebook Friends have seen posts on what follows, but many Tales and Travel readers are not on FB.

Crisis Number One: Before landing in Frankfurt where we boarded the plane for the long flight to Singapore, I asked BB (husband Bicycle Bob and long suffering travel companion) if he had the credit card. We had agreed that only one of us needed to take a card. “No, you have it,” he said. “No, you are supposed to have it,” I answered. Major misunderstanding. Bottom line: No credit card and not an auspicious beginning to a five-week long trip. Panic. Stress. Anger. We only had a brief layover in Frankfurt, but we had plenty of time between planes in Singapore before flying on to Yangon. We made numerous calls back to our friends and house sitters, Dee and Allan, in France. They researched methods of getting a credit card to us. French Chronopost came to the rescue. Other services, such as DHL, would not deliver to Myanmar. That was on Friday. Monday afternoon in Yangon we had the card. A miracle! Cost for this amazing service, just 58 euros.

We were fine at the onset of the trip without the card. Cash, new US dollars (issued after 2006) and not folded, is currently the recommended currency for travelers in Myanmar. Some places do take credit cards, but charge a hefty fee. We had an ample supply of dollars ordered from our bank, so even without the plastic, we could enjoy meals without washing dishes. But, we would need the card before the end of the trip. We were saved by Dee and Allan and Chronopost.

Crisis Number Two: My tooth. The day the credit card arrived, I woke up with a toothache. Surely it will go away, I thought. No such luck. It only got worse, and worse, and my cheek began to look as if I had a tennis ball in my mouth. Our guide took me to a dentist recommended by our first rate tour company, Asian Trails. He spoke some English, and his office appeared clean. He wore gloves, a mask, and had many pretty and very young assistants. He said it was a wisdom tooth, gave me pain pills and antibiotics, and cautioned me to avoid the “odors of hot oils” ?? If it did not get better, I could come back and he would extract the tooth.

The medication helped for one day only. However, I had fears of letting this dentist pull my tooth, especially when the guide told me the dentist had told him it would be better to wait and have the tooth extracted when I got back to France as complications could arise. He obviously did not want the job. Our return to France was five weeks down the road. I could not live with this pain for five weeks.

As mentioned, I had posted our troubles on Facebook. One friend wrote that the trip was “doomed.” World travelers Dee and Allan advised not to have a tooth extracted in Myanmar where hygiene and sanitary conditions are dicey. A young woman I met, a 21-year-old pediatric dental assistant in Connecticut traveling with a group of Jehovah Witnesses for a conference, said I definitely needed to get rid of the tooth. It is probably infected, she said, and the infection would only spread… and could even lead to death. Sacre Bleu! If a Jehovah Witness advises a medical procedure, you know action is required.

Now what? Perhaps the trip was doomed. I was a wreck and could not enjoy the sights. Fortunately in the middle of the night I had a bright idea: Call the

BB waits in dentist office number 2. Shoes must come off, but instead they covered his. Fear of stinky feet?

American Embassy. They recommended Dr. Aung Myint who saved the trip, and, who knows, maybe my life. I was relieved just entering his classy office with certificates from Denmark and Paris posted on the walls of the waiting room where copies of Fortune, Newsweek and Reader’s Digest were offered as reading material. His equipment was state of the art –far more up to date than many dentist offices I have seen in southern France.

We had been to our dentist before departing as a security check. No problems. Why did this tooth suddenly go bad? Could be stress, the super dentist replied. Aha — blame it all on the forgotten credit card. He pulled the tooth and all was well. X-ray, tooth extraction and stitches: $70. We found many more bargains during our travels, but that was the winner.

As mentioned, food in Myanmar is good and different. We had many versions of a delicious avocado salad. See recipe column on right for the versison made at the cooking school we attended while at the beach.

Following, a photo gallery of Myanmar as a preview of coming blog posts.

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Souvenir sellers on the beach where mother of pearl items are popular.

Shoes -- and socks-- must come off before entering temples.

Nuns, seen here at market knife stand, wear pink.

Temple in Bagan, the Angkor Wat of Myanmar.

Too many homeless dogs in Myanmar. Most all look like this fellow.

Temple workers take a siesta break under the watchful eyes of Buddhas.

Paris in December

We went to Paris to visit the dentist, but not just any dentist. An American dentist, fabulous Dr. Jane. Sure, there are plenty of dentists in Provence. But, the profession of dental hygienist does not exist in France. Here cleaning is merely detartrage, scrapping the tartar off the teeth, a procedure carried out by the dentist which takes all of 10 minutes or less.

Not good enough for Americans who have been brainwashed about the importance of a thorough cleaning by a hygienist every six months. In Germany where we previously lived most dentists have hygienists. After moving here, we’d trek back to Germany once a year for a proper cleaning. (Since it was such a long journey, we made due with one cleaning per year.) Fellow American and friend Lynne came to the rescue. She found Dr. Jane in Paris. Our teeth have never been so clean.

Dr. Jane Matkoski, who hails from New York State, does high tech teeth cleaning, first with ultra sound followed by a special process called Air Flow. She covers your eyes with a cloth, then puts goggles on top of the cloth and air polishes the teeth. “Today’s flavor is cassis,” she told me. I like cassis, but this was salty and none too pleasant. BB likened the procedure to sand blasting. Whatever, it does the job par excellence.

One fourth of Dr. Jane’s patients are Americans. She also has many international patients who are used to a real teeth cleaning. “The French just don’t get it,” she said.

While teeth were the main reason for the trip, it was a good excuse to visit my favorite city. We had time to see friends, to visit Le Café des Chats, to tour the Marais district with a Paris Greeter, to apply for visas for our upcoming trip to Myanmar – and to check out the Christmas lights in the City of Light.

On a previous trip to Paris in December, I found the holiday illumination on the Champs Elysees spectacular. This time I was underwhelmed. Perhaps it’s a sign of age, but lots of colors and flashing lights are not my cup of tea. This year giant hula hoops that change from blue to red encircle the bare trees lining the legendary boulevard. Tacky – in my opinion.

There’s nothing tacky, however, about the wondrous windows at Galeries Lafayette. Amazing, moveable scenes, five from the tale Beauty and the Beast. Mesmerizing for both children and their parents. The classy windows at Au Printemps, this year sponsored by Prada, are also dazzling.

Thanks to Satié, the cousin of my Japanese sister-in-law Yoshie, we did not miss these Parisian holiday highlights. Satié lives in Paris. After dinner together, she suggested we stroll by the windows.

As a cat lover, I had to visit Le Café des Chats which opened in September, modeled after a cat café in Tokyo. Cats, 12 of them, all colors and sizes, lounging in windows, on chairs, benches, and in kitty beds. Some are sociable, but many were soundly sleeping, the favorite pastime of felines.

Upon entering rules are recited by the café host: Don’t feed the cats. Don’t let the cats drink from your cup or glass. Don’t disturb the cats if they are sleeping. Photos allowed, but no flash. Before entering the rooms with the cats, you must disinfect your hands – a dispenser is on the counter.

The two-level cozy café in Paris’ third district was packed during our visit. The café has generated a lot of publicity and is popular with locals as well as tourists. Reservations are a must. Coffee, teas, wine, desserts, salads and tartes can be savored while watching cats. It was fun but frustrating. My pathetic photo skills required flash in the poor light. So, no super kitty pictures. The food was good –a seafood salad for BB and a tarte with caramelized onions, blue cheese, cranberries and pecans for me.

A blog (http://aixcentric.wordpress.com) led me to Paris Greeters, an organization of volunteers who give guided tours of their neighborhoods. There is no charge but you are requested to give a donation. Sign up on line before visiting Paris, specifying your interests, and you are matched with a greeter.

Claudine in front of her favoirte tea shop, Mariage Freres, a must for tea aficionadas.

Claudine Chevrel, who has lived in the Marais since 1972, led us through this beautiful district. Historic buildings, her favorite shops, churches and monuments were on the tour.

Le Marais, literally “the swamp,” was mostly farmland in the Middle Ages, producing vegetables for the city on the Seine. By the 16^th century, the nobility and upper middle class bought up the land and built great estates. For the next couple of centuries, family palaces and grand buildings found their home in the Marais.

The arrondissement (administrative district), which is now very expensive and chic, was not that way when she moved there many years ago, Claudine said. “I prefer the Maris 10 years ago. It used to be a real neighborhood.” There were lots of local shops and groceries, she explained. Many have been replaced by expensive boutiques and art galleries. “Everyone knew everyone. Now lots of foreigners who don’t live here year round have bought apartments.”

The Marais has both a large Jewish community and one of the largest Gay communities in Europe. We especially liked the Jewish area. Numerous shops tout that they offer the “best falafel.” Claudine says the best is at the restaurant Chez Marianne which also has a bakery where BB bought a thick slice of nut strudel – they offer 12 different kinds for 3 euros per slice.

“I always meet interesting people who want to see Paris in a different way,” says Claudine. “Americans prefer this type of tour. They like to meet Parisians. They ask lots of questions, about everyday life, taxes, schools.”

After the two-hour plus tour we set off to find her favorite restaurant, Le Louis Philippe, which we had passed during our walk. En route we came across Caruso. As we have a weakness for all things Italian and there are few Italian restaurants in Provence, it was our lunch stop. Buonissimo! Exquisite pasta, and BB’s dessert, Cassata Siciliana, was deliciously decadent, cake smothered in a mascarpone-cream-candided fruit-alcoholic combination. I found several recipes on line and will try to duplicate it soon.

Before boarding the TGV for a fast train ride back to Provence, we met friendsLeonard and Claudine for lunch at L’Epigramme, a restaurant in the 6^th district which is included in “Best Restaurants Paris.” I had a very juicy and tender piece of beef. The others went for dorade, a popular fish in France. All were happy.

Next visit to Dr. Jane, we’ll go back there, and to Caruso, and tour another neighborhood with a Paris Greeter.

Happy Holidays to all Tales and Travel readers!

Dr. Jane Matkoski, 12 rue Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre (5ème), 01 46 34 56 44 drjane@orange.fr

Le Café des Chats, 16 rue Michel Le Comte (3ème). Metro: Rambuteau or Arts et Metiers. Make a reservation at reservation@lecafedeschats.fr

Paris Greeters, www.parisgreeters.fr

Caruso, 3 Rue de Turenne (4 ème). Metro : St. Paul, www.ristorantecaruso.fr

L’Epigramme, 9 rue de l’Eperon (6 ème). Metro : Odeon, 01 44 41 00 09

I love to hear from readers. Please post a comment. See “Leave a Reply” below under Comments. Subscribers also welcome. Don’t miss future posts. Click on Email Subscription at top right.

If you have suggestions for Paris restaurants, please pass them on. I have not posted any recipes lately, but for your holiday cooking, check on Holiday Fruitcake and Holiday Pork Roast in the recipe column at right.

Wild and Wonderful Corsica

According to the sign posted at the beginning of the hiking trail in the Corsican mountains, it was a one-hour trek to Lac de Melu. Piece of cake, I figured, and a good test for my new knee.

Two hours later we were still huffing and puffing, scrambling over rocks — even a few times on all fours for me. No lake in sight. We had conquered the challenging, extra steep sections of chains and ladders. But, the trail of all rocks went on and on, up and up. At times it was frustrating to figure out which way to proceed over this stony sea. The trail was marked by yellow slashes on the rocks, but often they were hard to spot.

Find the yellow slash -- the trail marker. — Find the yellow slash — the trail marker.

I was about to give up when we encountered a group on their way down. “How much farther?” I asked. “It’s not that far. Will you make it? If you want I can accompany you,” answered the mountain guide who was leading the others. I must have looked near death, which is about the way I felt, but there was no way I would ask for assistance. Now I was more determined than ever to conquer this trail.

After two hours and 10 minutes we reached the lovely lake. How could anyone make it here in one hour? We are old, but not decrepit. That sign was meant for Himalayan sherpas.

Getting down was no easy task. The rocks, all sizes, were demanding. You had to keep your eyes on the trial below at all times to figure out where to put your foot next, on top of which boulder, into which crevice. I was petrified of falling, of breaking a leg, screwing up my knee. How would I be rescued? No helicopters could land anywhere near this surface of rugged rocks. I did fall once, but fortunately I had given my camera to BB (husband Bicycle Bob) who was more steady a foot. I ended up with a badly bruised leg, but nothing broken, including my precious camera.

In our younger days, BB and I did some long and tough mountain hikes in the Swiss Alps – several days on the trail with backpacks. We loved it. This was different. “Most hikes are strenuous, but enjoyable,” he remarked. “This was work, labor intensive.”

What a relief to get the work over with, to reach the hut at the bottom – and to enjoy that satisfying sense of accomplishment after conquering a mountain. O.K. This was just a lake, not a mountain, and we were slow. But, we did it. My knee passed the test.

Rocks abound in Corsica—not just on mountain trails. Along the coast. On the beaches. In the sea. Rocks in the shape of animals, human faces, surrealistic

sculptures.

Not long after we disembarked from our all-night ferry ride to this island in the Med (Toulon to Ajaccio); we stopped to visit the archeological site, Filitosa, on our way south. Incredible rocks there. We followed the path through the site where artifacts dating to as early as 3,300 have been found. Ancient civilizations lived in caves here. During the megalithic period they erected menhir statues, granite monoliths, carved to represent human faces or entire figures. They are intriguing, as are the natural rock formations in the area.

Onward to the coast and the tiny town of Tizzano for five nights at the Hotel du Golfe, which advertises that it has its feet in the sea. The Mediterranean waters were right below the balcony of our room. Awake to the soothing sounds of the sea gently slapping the rocks. The hotel beach is just a miniscule patch of sand surrounded by those rocks. Getting in and out of the sea was a bit tricky maneuvering over the hurdles, but the water was perfect. I swam and swam and swam with no one in sight.

Mini beach on a windy day --too dangerous to swim — Mini beach on a windy day –too dangerous to swim

During our October visit to this island utopia we enjoyed still warm weather and mostly blue skies – and tranquility. The tourist season was over. On the plus side, no crowds anywhere and the highways to ourselves. On the down side, many shops, hotels and restaurants had already closed for the season. All four of the restaurants in Tizzano were boarded shut.

There is just one winding road down the mountain from the inland town of Sartène leading to our mini burg and the sea. Winter Tizzano population:

30 humans and lots of felines. In the summer: 3,000 tourists. In October: us, the locals, a few other tourists and the friendly cats. I was in heaven.

Since BB is not a swimmer and we wanted to see more than Tizzano, we set out on excursions every day, to Ponte Vecchio on the eastern coast, to Bonifacio in the far southwestern corner of the island, and on foot one day for a hike along the shore. No leisurely stroll along a sandy beach was this, but a demanding trek through coastal bush –and yet more boulders. The scenery was splendid with more fantastic rock formations to photograph.

Ponte Vecchio is basically a resort town with lots of sailboats in the harbor, narrow streets with cute boutiques (most closed) and restaurants (also most closed). Not too exciting. Bonifacio is different, a two-level, lively town. The haute ville, an amazing sight, perches precariously atop a cliff on a thin peninsula. Skinny streets twist past ancient buildings, including numerous churches. We followed the advice of the woman in the tourist office and set off to the Escalier du Roi d’Aragon – 187 steps from a corner of the town’s citadel plunging to the sea. Scary, steep steps. Descending them is an exhilarating adventure. They plummet straight down and at times involve big jumps – one step where there should be two.

The winds were ferocious on the day of our Bonifacio visit. Mammoth waves roared and crashed into the rocks. We had been told the best view of the city is from the water, but due to the wind velocity, tourist boats were not running.

So, let’s splurge on lunch. Food is always a highlight of our travels. Since so many restaurants were closed, our choices were limited. We had few memorable meals in Corsica, including one we’d like to forget — the $98 (72 euro) fish at a harbor restaurant in Bonifacio. We like fish and craved a fresh Mediterranean catch. The waiter brought out a tray of specimens and recommended a “Sar.” We had never heard of this fish, but were game to try, not bothering to ask the price. Bad move. The astronomical bill –the fish had been priced at nine euros per 100 grams –was a shock. Our Sar was a big fellow, tasty, perhaps not that tasty, but it did come with some veggies and potatoes.

Cap Corse, the island finger at the northern tip, was our destination for three days before boarding the ferry in Bastia for the trip back to Toulon. En route we spent a night at the interior town of Corte so we could do the lake hike. Hiking is just one of numerous outdoor activities offered in Corsica – all kinds of water sports plus mountain adventures: canyoning, rock climbing, zip line etc.

The drive through the interior is spectacular – miles and miles of rugged nature over excellent roads. Although Corsica is a vacation paradise, it has not been scarred by mass tourism. There are vast pristine sections in both the interior and along the coast — no towns, no hotels, no commerce.

Our hotel in the coastal town of Erbalunga was not on the beach, but it did have a large heated pool — my private pool – no other swimmers.

We drove along the Cap coast with many photo stops. We drove through the middle of the peninsula over roads that averaged more than a dozen curves per kilometer. Along the route: stops for wine tasting and buying. Wine is the island’s principal export. According to my guidebook bible, Lonely Planet Corsica, the wines “are not necessarily the most distinguished of wines.” Some of the grape varieties (Niellucciu for one) are unique to Corsica. As BB seems to like wine more than bicycles these days, we bought a supply.

Bastia, a town of crumbling splendor, is fun to explore: a busy harbor, imposing citadel, intriguing hillside park, ancient churches – and shops that were open. Throughout the trip I had been searching for stores where I could purchase Corsican delicacies – cheese, sausage, honey, jams. No luck. In Bastia’s thriving shopping district, I found my treasures at last.

I hope to return to Corsica, but in late September before so much shuts down for winter. And, I’d go back to Tizzano and the Hotel du Golfe. Gil Chopin, the hotel proprietor, told me he was born in the town but moved on to work in Paris and other cities. “I missed nature, the sea.” He came back. “We live in harmony with nature here. Each day is different. Each day I am astonished. For me, this is paradise.” It was paradise for me, too.

Hotel du Golfe,Tizzano. A perfect coastal retreat. The simple but comfortable rooms all have balconies above the Med. Idyllic location. http://www.hoteldugolfetizzano.com

Hotel Castel Brando, Erbalunga, Cap Corse. Spacious accommodations including rooms with private terraces, lovely garden for breakfast (ample, including do-it-yourself eggs and pancakes) and a super heated pool. http://www.castelbrando.com

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Mega ferry between mainland France and Corsica

Deserted beach along a coastal hiking trail.

Discovering Fine Wines in the Gard

According to the French proverb, “A day without wine is a day without sunshine.” There’s no lack of liquid sunshine in our lives, nor in the lives of most of the French, as wine is an essential part of life here. Not far from our abode in the Luberon area of Provence are numerous wineries. BB (husband Bicycle Bob) and I enjoy treks to visit and taste and buy.

Last week’s all-day excursion to sample Côtes du Rhône wines in the department of the Gard northwest of Avignon was over-the-top. Four wineries, lots of delicious reds and whites – plus the famous Tavel Rosé.

Happy Wine Tasters--photo by David Regan — Happy Wine Tasters–photo by David Regan

French friends Anne and Pascal organized the jaunt, rented a van, and invited us, plus our friends David, Martine and George. (David’s wife Mollie was sick and had to miss the event.) Pascal hails from the region, and is a fan of its red wine. He had prepared documentation on the area, as well as each of the wineries we would visit. Very impressive and professional.

The Gard, as opposed to other wine areas we have visited, is relatively flat. Vines grow on level ground in chalky soil covered by layers of flat stones which act as heat storage – similar to the terrain of the prestigious Châteauneuf- du- Pape vineyards. Winters are warm and dry. Spring is warm and wet, while summers, very hot and dry, precede warm and rainy autumns. Mistral winds blow away the risk of disease. It all makes for excellent wine.

Chartreuse de Valbonne, an ancient monastery founded in 1203 with its own vineyards, www.chartreusedevalbonne.com, was our first stop. Pascal’s mother was a teacher there, teaching the children of the doctors who worked at the hospital for lepers formerly housed in the monastery. His mother’s family moved from northern France to the Gard, which was a Zone Libre (free zone), during World War II.

We sipped three reds and two whites. Martine and I, both fans of white wine, especially liked Terrasse de Montalivet, Côtes du Rhône Village 2011, 100% Viognier. Pascal said he prefers the white wines of Burgundy, but for red wine, these Côtes du Rhône are his favorites. He explained that the combination of the terrain and the expertise of the vintners in the region who blend different grapes result in “wines with a special character.” And, the price is right, not as expensive as other, better known Côtes du Rhône.

The wine connoisseur chose the perfect lunch stop: Goudargues, “Venice Gardoise,” a delightful town with a canal bordered by giant Plane trees right smack in its middle. We sat outdoors above the clear water where we’d spot an occasional trout. Moules (mussels) were a restaurant special. I chose the version in curry sauce, while BB opted for mussels with a chorizo sauce. Both served with frites and scrumptious.

George and David are serious, professional photographers. Martine, Anne and I also like taking photos. We all found plenty of photo opps in this pretty, pleasant town.

More wine awaited at Domaine Pélaquié, www.domaine-pelaquie.com, a family winery dating back to the 16^th century with 85 hectares of vineyards. Some of its wines have the appellation Côtes du Rhône Village Laudun.

Laudun is one of about 20 villages that are permitted to add their names to the Côtes du Rhone Villages appellation. These vineyards are noted to produce higher-quality wines distinctive of the regional style. Wines with the Côtes du Rhône Village appellation are a step up in quality from those of the Côtes du Rhône title.

The winery brochure states that from father to son, generation after generation, the secrets and knowledge of the soil and the grape vines have been passed on. But each generation makes its own discoveries to create elegant wines with the distinctive character of this domaine.

My wine of choice here was the white Côtes du Rhône Villages Laudun 2012, a blend of Grenache blanc, Clairette, Viognier and Roussanne grapes, € 8.50 per bottle. BB liked the Luc Pélaquié Côtes du Rhône 2010, a red wine, 100 % Mourvèdre, at € 13 per bottle.

Anne is not a big fan of wine, but she loved that grape juice.

Proprietor Luc Pélaquié led us back into the “cave” to taste grape juice. He filled our glasses from a 6,000 liter steel tank containing liquid from grapes that had been pressed only a few days prior and was just beginning to ferment. All rated it very tasty and refreshing.

There was plenty of action to observe at the next stop, a co-op winery, Caves des Vins de Cru de Lirac, www.cavelirac.fr The commune of Lirac has 715 hectares of vineyards producing wines, predominantly red, of an exceptional quality.

Grape harvest was in full swing in the region. Truck after truck pulling trailers brimming with grapes arrived at the co-op to dump their contents into a vat where they were instantly crushed by revolving blades. The aromas, musty and fruity, were heavenly.

Christiane Bouzige, the winery’s “chef d’exportation,” explained that 60 vintners bring their grapes to the co-op. Harvest lasts about three weeks when all involved in the business of wine production work seven days a week, almost round the clock. She predicts that this year’s wine in the Gard will be “very good, but with a small harvest…The grapes are very small…It was very cold in April.” The co-op sells 36 different wines, ranging in price from € 4 to € 37,50 per bottle.

At Domaine Lafond, www.roc-epine.com, our last stop, we got to taste a Châteauneuf- du- Pape 2009/2010 as this winery has vineyards in the Châteauneuf -du- Pape region. The wine’ s name dates back to 1305 when the Pope moved to Avignon. Clement V, pontiff at the time, was an avid wine lover. We all relished the pope’s wine (80% Grenache, 10% Syrah, 10% Mourvèdre), but at € 25.50 per bottle, a bit too pricey for our budgets.

We also tasted a Tavel Rosé, which vintner Pascal Lafond said is a “very different style of rosé than the rosé of Provence. You can drink it year round, not just in summer around the pool.”

Lafond, another old family wine estate, produces “bio” wines. Pascal Lafond mans the winery while his 83-year-old father Jean-Pierre keeps the books. “I have to check to see if he has made any mistakes, “ said Jean-Pierre.

To our surprise, we began our tasting here with a red wine, followed by the rosé, then the white. We had assumed the order should be the reverse, but Pascal explained that in this order the true flavors of the white wine are appreciated. We did appreciate his excellent white, Lirac Blanc 2012, € 9,20 per bottle.

Wines of southern France are richer and more complex in taste, he said.

Some of Lafond’s wines are aged in oak barrels for several months. He proudly showed us his “cave” with long rows of beige colored barrels which looked new. He prefers French and Russian oak for his wine storage. American oak, he finds, gives “too much taste.”

On our way out we walked past stacks of boxes ready for shipping. Several were labeled “Cascher” (Kosher). Two rabbis work at the winery in the production of this special wine which is shipped to Jewish communities in France as well as in the US.

That was a healthy dose of delectable sunshine. All returned with several boxes of wine to be assured of sunny days in the winter ahead. Merci, Pascal and Anne.

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A recipe to try: Duck Breasts in Balsamic Vinegar. It’s very good and very easy and comes from my Australian friend Meg. Scroll down recipe column at right.