The Art of Walking: Beaches

We’re still in Languedoc in this posting and it’s autumn. It’s chilly but there’s a clear, if not bright, sun shining most days. To compare regions we’ve lived in, I’d say Provence is more colorful and gaily bright, more textured than is Languedoc, which seems somewhat sleepier and lay-back. But it has its unique attractions. To give you an idea of how gorgeous this season can be here, look at this house found along a country road.

all photos by JS unless noted

And the people here are friendly and welcoming to strangers like us. Despite the outworn stereotypes, the local folk were tolerant of my less-than-adequate spoken French, the children liked speaking to me in franglais, and our neighbors were considerate in asking about my progress in walking. 


After a recent injury to my spinal column left me bed-bound for a month in Canada with daily physiotherapy, I would be measuring my progress in terms of how well I could walk. (As an aside, isn’t 'invalid' a weird word for physically disabled, especially given the meaning of ‘invalid’?) Not only had I always liked walking, but now, by finding walks I could manage and increasing them as I gained strength, I could  measure my progress toward being upright and on my own two feet again. I was doing more than recuperating my physical health, as I think you can see in these blogs. I was having fun and adventure and discovering and painting again!


Today's Thought
All walking is discovery. On foot we take the time to see things whole. 
(Hal Borland, NYTimes writer on the outdoors)

I was to make great strides, literally, in the first months of our European adventure. It was all with the help of my caring spouse that I could start this adventure at all, and I marvel at his capacities. One of which I share wholeheartedly: the capacity to enjoy and live as well as one can. Not hedonism, but appreciation of life.

Aside from the paths along the vineyards and the nearby Herault River with its Pont Roman (see my first blog entry), this ancient town of St. Thibery is tiny. Its uneven cobblestone streets, as charming as they may be to look at, were hell for me to walk on. Given walking was a main objective for me, one of my favorite things to do became walks along the different beaches that border this stretch of the Mediterranean shoreline.

Ever get tired of walking along the sea? Not me. Anytime, wind, rain, sun (of course), howling tempest (well….yes, if I can manage it). How many beaches? As many as I can get to. And they each have their treasures. Some here are quite civilized, with promenades built beside them and restaurants. Others are open and wide-reaching (more like the Pacific shoreline I know). There are many variations of shoreline we were to discover along the sweep of the Mediterranean that borders France, Spain, and Italy.

So let’s go to the beach! It’s not summertime, so we’re not talking bikinis (as if) or sun-cooked water. We’re talking about the “raw” Mediterranean Sea in autumn. Here’s one small beach town beside the ocean. They were mostly deserted this time of year, having the look of shuttered down resort villages one still finds in out-of-the-way places—still running but at half-throttle, waiting for its crowd of summer residents. The strange looking Plane tree is anything but plain. Doesn’t it look as if there are little people lying in its branches? 

Beyond this tree is the town of Bouzigues, famous for its oysters. Now, Vancouver, B.C. also has wonderful oysters, and we see them attached to rocks near our Gulf Islands home. But here the oysters are in offshore shoals that can be reached by the small boats on shore.                                

                                                                                  

                                                                                

Eating at one of the beach restaurants, I was amazed at the huge and artfully arranged platters of oysters and shellfish that came to tables. I wish I had a photo! I was even more amazed to watch people consume multipledozens of these sexy oysters at a sitting, leaving only glistening shells to mark their extraordinary culinary prowess.

Here’s Serignan, another one of our favorite beaches that seems to go on forever. The sand is soft and golden, and there are wonderful seashells all around the tidewaters. Jim is holding one up for you.

One more look at the Mediterranean in France before we say goodbye for now.

Today's Painting

Ariandne's Compass, painting by Janet Strayer janetstrayerart.com

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