French Alps

Leaving Paris behind in our Lancia, a Fiat brand (they'll be coming to America), we travelled through the French country side. 20 minutes outside of Paris and the farmlands begin with wooded forests preserved along selected stretches. Highway signs indicating cave drawings, castles, and villages whiz by as we drive toward Lyon. The rolling hills are green and the weather a bit cold at 12º, but the highway tolls make for great stops. The bathrooms are incredibly clean and each one has a beautiful picnic area. No stores or fast food joints - just forest along side the highway with picnic benches, bathrooms and playgrounds for kids. They were well used and we enjoyed them as Nani had packed us a picnic basket for the trip.

We stopped to stretch our legs at , an old monastic town from the 1400's which was famous for creating a hospital or care house for the sick. The monastary was recreated as it was used through out the ages. Th

e kitchen had been used to feed the old folks home up until 1985, so it was a large part of the community.

Our end point is Grenobe, where Emanuelle has been nice enough to ask her cousin for a favor to put up some friends from Hawaii. The drive to the south is a bit long for one day. So we will spend two nights here. It's a city really. Sitting at the base of the Alps, at a valley that runs at the base of snow capped mountains, Grenobe is the silicon valley of France. High tech with a large population to serve the industry. The 16th century town center is beautiful and the fort that sits strategically on the high ridge is imposing. 

Brice and Sylvia-Ann welcome us with open arms to their loft like apartment in an old warehouse from the 1800's. Their sons, Sasha and Noe are playing outside in the driveway, waiting to welcome us. We arrive by mistake mostly. Getting lost in the city, we found a street to make a u-turn, and it happened to be the correct one. One thing about France - the street signs are terrible. 10 signs will be posted on the corner telling about all the great things to look for in a certain direction, and the street signs will be plastered to a building, usually on the far end of the block and partially covered in Ivy. You don't know a cross street until you've past it. 

Brice and Sylvia-Anne took very good care of us by taking a day off of work and showing us the mountains of the area. He's a good cook and showered us with his cooking skills. Sasha played some guitar and Noe ran about with endless energy.

Leaving Grenobe we drove through the beautiful French Alps, stopping along the way to walk in a real "alpine meadow", eating our pastries and cooling our water bottles in the cold stream. The snow capped peak

s rose above us, and Ava couldn't stop picking daisies the seed stems to blow in the wind. 

By evening we had reached the rolling hills of St. Tropez. Dry and forested, it looked like Sonoma, but much greener. We found our little chalet, complete with a beautiful pool, tiled floors, shuttered windows and french doors that were screenless. No flies to worry about, just dry, warm, sunny St. Tropez with vines along the walls and wild gardens filled with flowers.