Giving Thanks for Friends

Mike and I have so many things to be thankful for particularly this year. We continue to have wonderful experiences in France, plus, throughout the year we’ve had the opportunity to share those experiences with friends who have come to visit. Some friends were veteran travelers and others enjoyed their inaugural trip to Europe, but this week was the first time we had two friends visit who didn’t know each other before they arrived. None of us knew how that would work but, as it turned out, it was perfect. And I received yet another gift just in time for Thanksgiving – the joy of watching my two dear friends become friends with each other.

Dan arrived first. I’ve known Dan for years, first as a consultant, then as a co-worker, and ultimately as a friend. We’ve gone through several job and career changes together and through it all, he has been a constant source of inspiration and a voice of wisdom. Plus, he can fill the room with laughter!

Felicia arrived a couple of days later and stayed for a few days after Dan left. I have literally known Felicia all her life. Our mothers have been friends for decades. Although Felicia’s family lived in Chicago, we saw them regularly when they visited her grandparents in Smithville. Somewhere along the way, Felicia grew from being the youngest kid among our families into a wise and happy woman who also happens to be a successful designer in Chicago. While we’re not related, it feels like we are. Her mom, Kay, even let me see their basement!

And so, it was the four of us, me, Mike, Dan and Felicia, who spent Thanksgiving week together in Cotignac. We traveled through Provence together but it was the evenings sitting around the table next to the wood stove laughing and talking that will be my favorite memories of the week. It was so much fun to watch these two friends connect with each other, swap stories, exchange advice on life and love, and laugh long and loud.

Dan had not traveled in this part of France so we loaded he and Felicia in the car and hauled them through village after cute village. We went to a Marche de Noel (Christmas market) at Chateau de Berne outside Lorgue. We went once with Dan and again with Felicia. None of us bought much – well, except for food, of course – honey, chocolates, macaroons, and jam, but it was fun to see the people, hear the happy chattering in French, and soak up the festive atmosphere. Even the dogs were dressed for the occassion. Felicia had the added treat of going to the Christmas market in Flayosc. It was a tiny event filled with handmade crafts. I bought a cookbook assembled by the local grade school children. It has a watercolor cover with gold star stickers made by the children. The kids were selling them as a fund raiser for their ski trip. How could we pass that up? I discovered later that the book is filled with their moms' favorite French recipes. I think this may be a winner! There was another fund raiser at the entrance door just past the mulled wine. This one involved guessing the weight of a huge loaf of bread - like guessing how many M&Ms are in a jar. Mike took a shot but we haven't heard anything about our winnings. I think we'll have better luck with the recipe book!

When we collected Felicia at the airport, we drove to Cannes for a lunch overlooking the Mediterranean. It was a beautiful, sunny day and we sat outside soaking up the sun. We watched the wanna-be beautiful people stride by looking neither right nor left but clearly expecting the rest of us to watch them. We giggled at the women with orange hair, artificially puffed lips, and needle-thin 4” heeled boots (how do they walk in those?). We window shopped at the high-end stores along the promenade – Gucci, Chanel, Bulgari, Hermes. Sorry, no one received Christmas gifts from Cannes!

In a shopping extravaganza that was more our speed, we hit the market in Cotignac. The market is much smaller now and many of the souvenir vendors are gone for the season, but it is still our favorite weekly event. The market is busy but in a casual way. The locals are out early, carefully selecting chard and pumpkins while they visit with friends. It is a leisurely amble down the street buying as we go. We’ve been here long enough that we have our usual vendors who know us, so we are part of the neighborly ambiance, too. I love that. We loaded up on food – you’d think we had an army to feed! But it all looked so good there was no point in trying to resist. Plus, Felicia – who lived in Milan for six years – offered to make salads for both lunch and dinner (endive with egg for lunch, baby artichoke with parmesan reggiano for dinner). We ate VERY well!

With all the eating, we had to do some walking, too. Mike and I toured them through the sites of Cotignac – both in and around town. We walked over roots and rocks to the waterfall – always a beautiful stroll. It looks different this time of year; lit by more sun due to the now-bare trees. The chilly temperatures didn't stop us from a morning walk along Lake Carces, bundled up with hats and gloves, with hard, brown acorns crunching under foot. We choose a warmer excursion for the afternoon and drove through the beautiful gorge outside the village of Correns. We stopped to admire the unusual, moss-covered fountains in Barjols, too. They both exclaimed over the sites – which made us feel good. Dan particularly loved St Paul-de-Vence – a perched medieval village outside of Nice. We visited there the day we took him to Nice for his flight home. St. Paul is charming with its narrow winding streets that form concentric circles until you find your way to the church at the very top of the hill. In summer, the streets are so packed with tourists that you have to push your way through. This time of year it was blessedly empty. The shops were still open and proprietors were VERY happy to see us. Mike and I were there twice before, but we saw more this time than in any previous visit. It’s hard to see vistas and notice the details of the jumbled, stone buildings when you can’t see around the tour groups. While Dan continued his explorations of St. Paul, Mike, me, and Felicia went to the Foundation Maeght – a modern art museum outside the town walls set on a hill among the tall pine trees. Vistas of hazy hills are visible between the trees and provide a stunning backdrop for grand-scale sculptures.

After Dan left us for home, Felicia and I continued our art and architecture theme by driving to Marseille to see Le Corbusier’s Unite Habitation. Felicia discovered that the building was close by, and since neither of us had seen a Corbusier building “in person” we set off to explore. It was exciting to drive up to a building that we’d both seen in architecture books – Felicia more so than me. On the wall were the classic symbols of Corbusier. The “Corbusier man” guided his proportions so that all was designed for a human scale. The building, built in 1952, was clearly aging and in need of restoration but the forms retained their sculptural quality and the textures were still evident. Felicia is particularly drawn to textures so much so that we teased her for taking photos of manhole covers for their stamped-iron patterns. Even with the classic architecture, it was our constant chattering and laughter that I will remember most from our day together. We share a similar sense of humor and it was the perfect therapy to spend hours laughing. And, I’ll remember the snow. Yes – snow! It snowed in Provence. On our drive home, the vineyards were coated in a layer of white – a thin layer of white. The pine trees along the narrow road into Cotignac were lightly frosted as if for the holidays. It was unexpected and beautiful – and gone the next morning.

Of course, the highlight was Thanksgiving Day. The French don’t celebrate Thanksgiving so it was just us four who knew there was a special something in the air that day. For everyone else the special something in the air was the scent of truffles. It was the season’s first truffle market. It seems this part of France is the center of the truffle industry – if “industry” is what you call it. Truffles are harvested in the late fall and winter and auctioned in nearby Aups. We had no idea what to expect, where to go, or what time the market started. We headed for Aups mid-morning and arrived at exactly the right moment. A cluster of people were huddled around the small square in the center of Aups bundled up against the chilly air. They were politely listening to barely audible speakers–the local politicians and truffle association president – standing on a stone porch, using bad microphones, but providing the necessary preamble to officially open the market (some things are the same everywhere!). About a dozen little tables were set up around the square and on each sat a small scale and basket – both empty. Once the officials welcomed everyone and thank whomever needed thanking, they blew a shrill whistle and the place was suddenly hopping with activity. The truffle farmers poured bags of rough, dirty, black truffles into their baskets and buyers began frantically pawing over them. Piles of large and small truffles were carefully arranged on the scale as 50 Euro notes were whipped out. Every little table had a crowd around it. The truffles were going fast! We had to get in on the action. Mike and Felicia picked out a tiny truffle which turned out to be 6 Euros worth – so we got another one! With our two little bags of truffles in hand, we exited the market for the warmth of a brasserie, coffee and tea. The bags of truffles ended up in my purse so that each time I opened my bag the aroma of truffle rose up. They soon went into the trunk of the car! We browsed around the main street of Aups taking in yet another quaint village. Two local men out for their daily baguette accidently ended up in one of Felicia’s photos. They thought she was photographing them but and they wanted their picture with her. Nothing like a couple of “French kisses” to get Thanksgiving morning off to a good start!

Once we returned home and warmed up, we took a stroll through Cotignac to burn off some of the food we would be eating later. Mike stayed back to start preparations for dinner. He got the ball rolling but everyone got into the act. After a round of phone calls to all our family and friends, everyone ended up in our compact kitchen. Felicia had the honor of cleaning the truffle that would be used in her famous risotto. She stood in the kitchen stirring for 45 minutes and then personally grated the truffle onto each of our servings of risotto. It was superb! (Later in the week, she taught me to make her risotto with porcini mushrooms. Yum.) Dan helped me peel apples for dessert that we popped into the oven just as Mike took out the roasted duck. Wow. A fruit and nut stuffing, pumpkin puree, and broccoli rounded out our Thanksgiving in Provence.

Yes, we all went to bed that evening feeling stuffed from a wonderful meal, but, at least for me, I was even more full with feelings of happiness for the friendships that I enjoy, the richness that they bring into my life, and the wonder of love and laughter. It was indeed a Thanksgiving filled with thankfulness.