The Incredible Journey - 23 May, 1994

 

 In 1994, I did what most white South Africans my age saw as a right of passage. I went on a tour of Europe with a schoolfriend and her girlfriend. I was in my early 20's.

These are the letters and faxes (this was before everyone had email, Children) I sent home and entries from my diary. They are all real. I couldn't make this shit up. 

 

The trip started in January 1994. To read the posts in order, go the Itinerary Post.

 

 

 

26 May - Brissac

   

Took the girls for a walk while Caroline got some sleep. 

 

We got to a field covered in flowers and Fifi picked some.  I'm still amazed at how girlie she is.  She said she would have flowers like that when she married her father.  I nearly fell over backwards.  Maybe I should've believed Freud a bit more and not got a D on that essay at University.

 

Babysat the kids while Caroline went to Ales.  All fine until Leontine peed in her pants the second time.  She fought with me while I showered her and, exactly two minutes before Caroline came home, everything turned to chaos.  Typical.  Must happen to au pairs all the time. 

 

In the evening Caroline's friend, Jo, came over.  She is really nice.  The face and body of a child.  You would never say she was in her thirties with two kids.  

 

 

 

27 May - Brissac

 

Went down to Paul and Aimee's house outside Montpellier.  They live in a modern design estate.  The house was one of the most messy I have ever come across.  She has two kids to deal with, a cleaning job in the early mornings and all her housework to do with no help, so I guess I could understand it, but I didn't have to like it.

 

We went to the park with the kids and then to Tante M's house.  The kids picked the massive cherries off her tree.  We visited with her for a while and then had pizza at a roadside stand on the way home - the easy way out with kids.  Paul met us there and he and Aimee had a fight so it was all a bit tense.

 

Back home he showed me photos then disappeared to go night fishing.  I wonder how true that is.  The little ones went to bed and we played cards - the mothers, Jean and me.  Jean was being an absolute pain and, for the first time, I saw him behave like a kid.  I guess he plays the man of the house at his place in his father's absence but can be a kid when he is with his cousins.  

 

 

 

28 May - Brissac

 

Mother's Day in France.  We left Paul and Aimee and headed towards Avignon.  We had lunch at MacDonald's.  We had no choice because every time we passed one on the road the kids yelled "MacDoh Maman! MacDoh!"  Eventually Caroline had to give in.

 

Just before Avignon we turned up to the North West and went to Port du Gard, an old Roman aqueduct.  Many people were there as there are wonderful places to picnic nearby and you can swim in the river.  

 

 

 

We sat on the river bank a while, laughing at Leontine who kept plonking herself down on other people's towels.  That girl is fearless.  A real Leo.

 

Back at Caroline's I saw the awards ceremony at Cannes.  

 

 

 

 

29 May - Brissac

 

Went out with Fifi's school on an outing to an educational farm.  The mothers were invited to come.  

 

When we got to the school, Fifi refused to get on the bus with the other kids and insisted on coming with us instead.  She spent the whole day hanging out with us, separate from the other children.  Interesting to observe.  I couldn't figure out why.  She is so pretty and should be very popular with her classmates.

 

Watching the kids was a little like watching a Petit Nicholas book come to life.

 

While the kids were taken around the farm I sat in the sun and read The Celestine Prophecy.  Great book.

 

We all had picnic lunch and I began to see how the women excluded Caroline.  It was such a typical southerner rural area attitude to "les etrangers."  The teachers offered all the mothers coffee except for Caroline and I.  Utterly amazing.

 

The farmers put on a little demonstration with a horse in a small round corral, and all the kids and mothers sat in a circle to watch.  Everyone except Fifi, who spend the time chatting to, and performing for, the elderly man who was playing the music on the record player.  She is absolutely incredible.  He was the only adult man there and she was all over him.  At that age!  Scary.

 

I sat in the car after the performance and Caroline sat a little with the mothers while the kids were taken on carriage rides.  She saw with a woman who used to be a friend of hers and apparently dropped her when she married her neighbor.  This woman is an etrangere too but is accepted by the community now.  She told Caroline that her kids were "capricious," which hurt Caroline.  But I have to admit that both Fifi and Leontine spent the whole day off by themselves, separate from the other children.  I can't decide if this is a good or bad thing.  They are difficult to discipline and perhaps they are not learning as much about relating to others as they could be, but they are also not conformist and have strong individual personalities.  

 

 

 

30 May - Brissac

 

Caroline is suffering from bad hayfever.  I took Jean to a movie.

 

 

 

31 May - Brissac

 

No school for the kids.  Caroline took Jean to the hospital for his allergy shot, then to the dentist, while I stayed with the girls.

 

Found Zen and the Art of Motorocycle Maintenance which we had looked for when we were at Playa de Piles, because everybody seemed to be reading it there.

 

Saw a TV programme on Naturalists.  It's amazing how many nudist camps there are in France.  It also spoke about the different attitudes to nudity in Europe.  People tan nude in public parks in Germany and, in Scandinavia you have the right to go nude in public.  No arresting streakers at cricket matches.

 

It was interesting because, as the show went on, I got less and less interested in looking at the people's bodies.  It became a non-issue.  I guess that's the whole point.

 

At half past midnight they had a programme on TV called Cercle de Minuit.  They were discussing Africa, and began with Johnny Clegg and Sipho Mchunu from Juluka playing a song.  They are in France for a festival of African Art.

 

Some doctor on the TV spewed a bunch of BS about humanitarianism and then Johnny Clegg said something with a lot of "Ums" in it.  Then the presenter said to Sipho: 

 

"And what do you think about the war in Rwanda?"

 

What a pathetic question!  If you are black, Europeans think you must know about all the issues in the whole of Africa.  So Sipho says:

 

"I don't know anything about that."

 

Which was no doubt true.  Hell, I don't either.  Stupid presenter.  I switched the TV off and grumbled my way to bed.

 

 

 

31 May - Letter home

 

Hello Family!

 

Sunday was Mother's Day here so HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to those of you who qualify.

 

I have decided to stay here until Nick (Caroline's husband) returns from the oil rig, so I'll get to meet him.  He works one month on and one month off.  I'd like to work like that - it'd be perfect for traveling.   I don't know if they need administrators on oil rigs.  I'll ask Nick when he gets here.

 

Caroline's house is part of the original Hameau (hamlet) so it's an old stone building with a central courtyard.  But the building has been split up to create different houses.  So you walk into the arch and in front of you is a walkway under another arch which opens into the little courtyard.  The caves (cellars) open onto this.  Caroline and Nick don't use their cave except for storage.

 

Back to the entrance arch...

 

The arch to the courtyard is on the right and on your left stone steps going up.  At the top of the steps is an entrance to another house on your right and directly in front of you is Caroline's front door. 

 

This opens up onto the kitchen / dining-room / lounge, directly behind which is Fifi and Leontine's bedroom.  To the left of that is Caroline and Nick's room.  

 

On the right of the central family area, which has a huge fireplace, is a doorway to the passage, toilet, bathroom and Jean's room.  

 

So the old stone building has three divisions (houses) on Caroline's part of it.  Outside the building extends round the central "place" where the older people sit every day and play cards, like true Europeans.

  

It's a lovely old stone house and you could do a lot with the cellars underneath, but renovation would cost a fortune.  Also, because of the way it's built, it has no garden for the kids.

 

It's kind of strange this old building because it forms something like a set of duplexes.  It takes a while to figure out which walls belong to which houses.  It's unfortunate that it would cost so much to do up, because it really has potential.  

 

I am slowly beginning to feel like I am really in Provence.  Have you read "A Year in Provence" by Peter Mayle?  If not, make sure you do.  When we initially drove from Montpellier to Cannes I tried to find a place to eat in Aix en Provence, wanting to capture the atmosphere Peter Mayle talks about.  It didn't work because I was coming down with flu, it was raining, we couldn't find a restaurant and Carrie and Varla didn't understand what I was on about.  We ended up eating pizza in a takeaway.

 

In fact I really don't think Carrie and Varla benefited fully from their trip at all.  As I've said to you before, they kept wanting to go to the beach and tan.  They'll go back to South Africa and they'll be practically unchanged.  I don't regret leaving them at all.  They might as well have spent their money on a holiday in Cape Town.

 

(This is a bit harsh.  But this letter was written at the very low point of my relationship with Carrie and Varla.  Well, let me clarify.  I have no relationship with Varla.  Carrie and I are still friends - we always will be.  But I recognize that Varla was an 18 year old child who chose to go to Europe with her teacher turned girlfriend and was leaving home for the first time in her life.  She didn't want to come on a cultural trip to Europe - she just wanted to be with Carrie.

 

Carrie spent the whole time torn between the two of us.  This was her first real relationship having discovered her true sexuality so she was also just trying to be with Varla vs. travel and see Europe.  We had conflicting priorities.)

 

Anyway...  When did I write to you last.  Let me catch you up on the news.

 

On Thursday we went into the town of Ales to la Feria.  Apparently throughout summer there is always some kind of festival/fair going on somewhere in the south of France.  The Spanish and Italian influence is glaringly obvious.  They even dress up in Spanish dress some of them.  Borders really are unnatural.  The progression is gradual as you go through Europe.  The landscape changes, the weather, the crops, the food, the dialect... Who cares where the line on the map is?

 

At the Feria they had stalls along the pedestrian walkway.  Lots of food and bands competing for attention.

 

And the next thing we know, Fifi had disappeared.  It was hell.  I stayed with Leontine and Jean while Caroline searched.  My stomach was so knotted I was nauseous, especially since Fifi is so pretty.  She's the kind of child that the kind of person we prefer not to think about would find perfect for their purposes.

 

Eventually she was found with the Police to whom she apparently refused to say a single word.  This is a worrying thing as Fifi is usually extremely vocal and one would hope ones children would be able to say their name, parents' names, etc. in these situations.

 

After that drama was over we sat and had paella at one of the stalls.  I made the mistake of ordering tripe at the last minute - bit of a yen for mom's cooking, I guess.  Well, it was awful.  nobody makes trip like you, Mom.

 

After supper we strolled back down in the direction of the car and passed one of the bands.  They were five young people, all dressed up in 60s gear (wigs, sunglasses and all), and they were playing really well.  

 

Tennis at Roland Garros is on the TV and Wayne Ferreira has balle de match against Mats Wilander.  

 

GO WAYNE!

 

Mats is holding on.  Damn.  Amazing how patriotic you get when you are away from home.

 

Anyway, back to the Feria...

 

We stopped to watch the band a while and little Leontine did her nut.  Try to imagine a thin, find-boned 2 year old girl, with curly light ringlets, dancing completely unselfconsciously.  She bounced around, hands in the air, laughing.  Then she'd come up to us with her hands over her ears moaning about the volume, then back she'd go to dance again.  

 

There was this old gypsy guy there (leather pants, scruffy hair), who started dancing with her.  They were an odd couple.

 

Ferreira is losing.  He's throwing temper tantrums as usual.

 

I took the girls for a walk and the other day and Fifi picked flowers.  Beautiful red poppies.  They just grow wild in the fields.

 

Forgot to tell you... I watched the opening of the World Cup.  The ceremony wasn't bad except for flippin' PJ bloody Powers.  WHY do they keep on using her?  Why?  She is old, she is fat and there are TONS of artists 10 TIMES better than her.  She is dead.  Where we Johnny Clegg, Claire Johnson, Ladysmith Black Mambazo?  The people who CURRENTLY are appreciated by both black and white!  

  

I enjoyed seeing South Africa win, though, even though I'm not a big rugby fan.

 

We went to stay at Paul and Aimee's house.  They have a small modern house in a development thing.  There is a small back yard where they have jungle jim - come - swings and one of those shell sandpits.  In summer Paul puts up a portapool.  He's also starting to build a Wendy House out of a crate for the kinds.  Very much the hand man.

 

We took the kids to a park.  The four young ones get on well, especially since each pair of cousins is the same age.  Jean is a bit left out, being older.  I felt sorry for him.

 

After the park we went to Tante M's house where the kids and Aimee picked cherries from her tree.  Aimee is tiny and she climbed the tree with the kids.  The cherries were big and black...yummy!

 

I was telling you before how I tried to eat Provencale food when we were in Aix.  I lost my train of thought.  It is now that I feel I am in Provence.  The cheese is wonderful.  The fruit is amazing.  Apart from the cherries we picked at Tante M's, 2 neighbors have given Caroline cherries from their gardens.  I'm gaining weight, I'm sure.

 

Back at Paul's house, he showed me photos of their holiday with Nick and Caroline in the mountains and the time they went to Martinique.  Then he went fishing.  Apparently he goes fishing all the time - he has a little rowboat.

 

We fed the little ones and put them to bed and played cards.  We slept over at their house. 

 

Sunday was Mother's Day in France so Aimee packed up her kids and took them to see her mother in Avignon.  She is one of ten kids so Mother's Day is a big deal in their house.  

 

We headed North and had lunch at MacDonald's then went to Pont du Gard. It's a Roman Aqueduct, still intact, and now a tourist attraction.  It's a nice place to spend the day because you can swim in the river.  

 

We spent the day there with the kids - there were tons of people - canoeing, cycling, sight seeing, swimming.

 

Leontine was hilarious again, plonking herself down on other people's towels which they had left on the river bank, stretching out and having a rest, no problem.  Fifi - la coquette - swam with her talking Barbie, which now gurgles. 

 

Fifi's preschool went on an outing to a farm, and invited the mothers to go with, so off we went.

 

Fifi refused to get on the bus with the other kids and, in fact, spent the whole day with us rather than playing with the kids in her class.  Why, I don't know.  She's not a shy child and she doesn't strike me as a mummy's girl.  Apparently she's been doing this for a little while now.  Maybe it's "a stage."

 

The school trip was to a farm nearby.  While the kids were shown around, I read a book quietly under a tree.  Bliss.

 

I saw proof of what I've heard about the people in the South of France.  They don't accept "les etrangers" even if you live amongst them for years.  There were 5 mothers and 2 teachers.  After lunch, flasks of coffee appeared and they offered all the adults coffee except Caroline and I.  So childish.  Pathetic little women living in a small town with tiny minds.  

 

Well, I'm traveling the world and they're stuck here with their sexist husbands, their kids and their tiny  lives where they have to be bitchy to occupy themselves.  Shame.  Screw them.  From here I head to Toulouse and to London and I've done the whole of Spain.  It's a safe bet that I am having more fun than them.

 

For Caroline, however, it's different.  She lives here and, with Nick away every second month, it must be difficult for her.  She lives in a small town with no theaters, clubs, etc.  Tante M and Paul are over an hour's drive away.  And she's restricted by having 3 kids.  There are no maids here.

 

The last thing she needs is a bunch of old hens being bitchy to her.  I hate narrowminded people.  

 

I'll be here another week or so then heading out.  I aim to be in London by the middle of next month.

 

Lots of love...

 

 

 

  

 

The trip started in January 1994. To read the posts in order, go the Itinerary Post.