... To A Secret World

Les Baux-de-Provence

There is a french expression, coup de foudre. It's used to describe an instant connection with someone, usually in a romantic context.  I happen to believe it can apply with friends as well, as this is something I experienced seventeen years ago as an exchange student in Arles, France.

Crevettes de Madagascar

Isabelle and I were just 17 when we spent the summer together, learning one another's language, and culture, and life. She was as long and lean and Mediterranean brown as I was thick and juicy and Pennsylvania pink. She was deeply introverted and an only child, whereas I was outgoing and the eldest of our little tribe. Despite these differences however, we formed a profound, lasting friendship that we've maintained to this day. My friendship with Zazou has taught me the value of so many things, things that have shaped the woman I've become, and the values ​​I hold dear today.

Arènes de Nîmes

Spending the last 5 days together with her ​​parents has been the absolute highlight of my trip so far. Arles remains as magical (and hot) as I remember. The colors of everything, the flowers, the flatware, the pants of the men are as bright and bold as the Roman buildings are whitewashed from the unrelenting Mediterranean sun. The olive oil tastes like it was just pressed, because it was. The fruit we pick from the tree for dessert tastes as bright as the colors of the flowers, and as nuanced as la Camargue smells. Her parents continue to treat me as their American daughter, a connection that means all the more to me now, having been relatively solo these last 6 weeks.  Zazou and I still laugh at for days at nothing, feast on French everything, and prefer to be bobbing around in the sea than anywhere else. We're also still quite good at getting ourselves into mischief.

"Hurry, hurry, they're coming!"

We chose a different beach to visit on our last full day together, a beach just beyond where they harvest salt, Salin de Giraud.  This is pink country, the water pink from the salt, the houses pink from the sun, and the flocks of flamingoes, just pink.   Upon our arrival, we were dismayed to see several kilometers of caravans impinging on the surrounding ecosystem. We attempted to drive beyond the revelers to find a quiet beach, when we realized we were surrounded.  Totally surrounded. The dirty revelers had transformed into naked revelers. And I mean naked. Eating lunch naked, playing frisbee naked, walking dogs naked. A naked village!!  So much pink !!   I would like to say we handled it maturely, but in fact it was just the opposite. I do not know if I laughed harder at the situation itself, or Zazou's reaction, "My eyes, my eyes!"  It was a fantastic disaster. Eventually we managed to find a little patch of not-as-naked, though this is France, after-all.  

Salin de Giraud

The grand final of our naked world experience occurred just before we left. We realized that the two beautiful horses riding through the waves were being ridden of course, naked. All of the naked friends in naked village were tickled pink (pun intended), posing for photos, cheering them on. I was tempted to sneak a picture myself, but I knew that was a cost my Pennsylvania pink self and I could not afford! 

** Apologies! French internet is translating my writing to French, to English and back again, argh.  It is SUPER frustrating, but alas, there's nothing I can do about it...  Thanks for your patience!