Gayle Smith Padgett

A Fall Frenchy-Swissy Sojourn

Shimmering Lac Divonne-les-Bains at dusk

In early September, with the rentrée in full swing —folks back to work and kids to school—Ralph and I wasted no time flying the coop. With our foldable bikes stashed in the backseat, we roared up the autoroute—this time in a northeasterly direction.

A fountain on a roundabout welcomes visitors to Divonne-les-Bains, near Geneva

Our primary destination was the attractive petit ville of Divonne-les-Bains, near Geneva on the west side of the France-Swiss border. In fact, the pretty enclave of about ten thousand residents might be considered a suburb of Switzerland’s fourth biggest city, home to several prominent international entities such as the United Nations (UN), the World Health Organization (WHO), and the World Trade Organization (WTO).

Yet, Divonne didn’t appear to be churning with activity from international institutions, but rather folks trying their luck at a sparkly casino. Gambling wasn’t part of our agenda, however, though we did do some betting. We were in town to rendezvous with wonderful oenophile British friends we’d met long ago in the celebrated wine town of Puligny-Montrachet in Burgundy. They’d lived in Divonne for a number of years, and we were overdue for a catch-up. We planned to meet during the festive Sunday market, and the betting question was, who would score the first hug. Ralph won, but I was a close second by no more than a second, followed by a big group embrace, and shopping, of course.

Divonne’s lively market stretches throughout downtown

A variety of dried hams and sausages ready for slicing. Do I hear *pique-nique*?

The market stretches the length of the downtown’s main street but also spreads out in several directions along the way. My girlfriend and I left the guys at a café while we made the rounds; she scored a poulet roti for our lunch and I a cute ribbed tank top, which I sorely needed since it was toastier than expected and I had packed for chilly. That was my rationale, anyway.

The Island of Birds provides a sanctuary for feathered friends

Over the next few days, we criss-crossed the invisible border between France and Switzerland with ease. One afternoon, we enjoyed a marvelous mountain repast at Le Commerce, in the tiny village of Chézery-Forens, high in the Jura on the French side. And the next, by the Swiss town of Préverenges, we strolled along the Sentier aux Oiseaux (Path of Birds) to the Île aux Oiseaux (Island of Birds), more of a small outcropping, but one that attracted a huge number of feathered friends, primarily cormorants. During our elegant picnic by the shore, replete with real wine glasses, we sipped some fine French rouge and marveled at the sensational views of Lac Léman.

Next up, more sightseeing in the adorable town of Rolle (Switzerland). After looping the pleasure boat marina, we made our way to main street, where we indulged in some scandalously delicious ice cream at our friends’ favorite ice cream shop, A History of Ice Cream. Learning that her absolute fave licorice flavor had sold out nearly prompted tears from my girlfriend, but a formidable scoop of hazelnut came to the rescue.

The incredible National Museum of the Automobile in Mulhouse.

After planning an Alsatian Christmas market meet-up, we bid our buddies adieu and began our journey home, albeit with a not-so-small detour. We set out true north, looping through farmland and mountains to Mulhouse, on the southern tip of Alsace. We’d driven by the large city a gazillion times on our trips back and forth between our old haunt of Heidelberg and Provence, but we’d never stopped, ever eager to reach our main destination as soon as possible. But now we had the chance to explore the Alsatian city, especially one treasure in particular—the famous Musée National de L’Automobile: Collection Schlumpf.

A long line-up of spiffy vintage racing machines. You can nearly hear the roar of the engines.

Thanks to Monsieur Schlumpf, who had made his fortune in the textile business and spent much of it on car collecting, a museum was born. And it’s not just any ol’ museum–it probably has the world’s biggest display of historic cars. The space covers 25,000 square meters, showcasing over 450 cars from vintage Bugattis to Formula 1 race cars—all kept polished and shiny. To walk down the aisles and read the informational plaques (in French, German, and English; audio guides in additional languages) is to walk through history. To be sure, along with the glitz, the museum offers countless opportunities for deepening understanding of the automobile’s cultural impact and perhaps lessons learned too.

The museum is packed with vintage Citroëns.

One of which is how tough it is to enter and exit a race car! With the help of the lovely assistant on duty, I tried it, and though I wasn’t risking life, limbs felt like a different matter. So be forewarned, if you climb into the one that I did, you’ll find that race car space offers precious little wriggle room!

Twister training would have been helpful before negotiating the entry/exit of this compact racing machine.

Imposing Saint Stephen Church on Place de la Réunion, Mulhouse

Other Mulhouse highlights were the main square, Place de la Réunion, with its towering Saint Stephen’s Church, often referred to as the Cathedral of Mulhouse due to its 97-meter-high bell tower, and roaming the cobblestone streets, keeping eyes peeled for the colorful outdoor murals.

The Moroccan restaurant L’Hirondelle serves up a marvelous *tagine poulet citron*.

As for food, I highly recommend the Moroccan specialties at L’Hirondelle, particularly the tagine poulet citron—the lush flavors of this simple yet rich, lemony chicken dish were sensational!

***

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

Osprey photo by Roy Smith, CC BY-SA-4.0, Wikimedia Commons

Ospreys have arrived in the south of France, migrating to Africa for the winter. We haven’t seen one yet, but since they are usually plentiful, our chances are good!

From left, ExperiencePlus tour guides Jo and Stéphane who surprised Ralph and me with team jerseys–on the steps of Hotel Le Castelet des Alpilles, which, coincidentally, features in the first chapter of *Passion for Provence*.

PPS

As for book news, I am pleased to report that Pleasures of Provence scored one of three book reviews in the September/October edition of The Connexion, widely known as France’s leading English-language newspaper, established in 2002.

In addition, a globetrotting classmate from Palm Springs High School—and an enthusiastic blog follower!—connected me with the global cycling/walking tour company, ExperiencePlus. Consequently, I met a group during their stay in Saint-Rémy to discuss life in Provence/my books, plus offer local tips. What a delightful and rewarding experience! Mille fois merci to my California friend David C., tour manager Sabrina, and the spirited guides, Jo and Stéphane. I look forward to meeting more groups next spring!

All Set for Sète, an “Island” City on the Med

Sète benefits from bordering on both the Étang de Thau and the Med.

Lollagagging around the lagoon by the name of l’Étang de Thau fit the bill for a sizzling hot summer séjour. Less than two hours from home, this mini-adventure destination demanded little energy to plan but promised a mighty payoff.

Sète is known as the Venice of the Languedoc.

From our holiday rental overlooking a sandy beach in mellow Mèze, my potential agenda included a bike ride to adorable Bouzigues, known for its oysters, or the picturesque vermouth-producing village of Marseillan, with its port lined with seafood restaurants, cafés, and the Noily Prat distillery. Or perhaps a mosey ‘round the antiques town of Pézenas, just 20 minutes by car. A more industrious possibility was a tennis match on the clay courts with a sea view. But with the heat, nothing remotely strenuous held much appeal.

The water-bus cruises between Sète and Mèze from mid-May to mid-September.

What did draw our attention was setting sail for Sète via the navette that runs from mid-May to mid-September between Mèze and Sète, the fishing and shipping hub, just a 30-minute cruise away. What a delight! From the pleasure-boat port, we buzzed over to the dynamic town that borders both the Étang de Thau and the Med. We’d visited before, but long ago and even then we hadn’t explored the old town. And that’s what we had in mind this time around.

Charming Le Victor Hugo is great for a coffee.

The artful tiled “carpet” on Place Victor Hugo by Jean-Michel Othoniel.

Armed with an article from Côte Sud magazine and tips from local buddies, we first stopped for a coffee at the charming Le Victor Hugo. From there we crossed the street to experience the animated art show on Place Victor Hugo. Designed by contemporary French artist Jean-Michel Othoniel, the expanse of glazed ceramic tiles showcases sweeping blue and red splotchy loops. The impressive 440-square-meter area is inlaid with water jets that shoot up intermittently, setting the tiles sparkling and casting a cooling spray across appreciative passersby.

Le tielle at Cettoise is a winning snack.

Before heading to the shipyard sector across town for our lunch rendezvous at Amar Café, we needed a little sustenance. So, we made a detour to La Cettoise. Overlooking Place de la Mairie, this tiny take-out enclave dishes out a terrific version of the local specialty, la tielle. Basically, it’s a pie filled with hearty tomato sauce mixed with chopped-up rock octopus, created from a secret family recipe. Sharing a palm-sized version while sitting on a low wall above the shady square gave us the boost we needed.

Inviting Maison Politi is a combo trattoria and grocery store.

As we walked through the rugged old quarter, we passed several establishments that looked particularly appealing. One was Maison Politi, an Italian grocery store and trattoria I really wanted to investigate. But the lunch clock was ticking, so we kept on truckin’. I’ll definitely make it a point to try snoop around in there next time.

Amar’s subtly-flavored squid dish with shrimp bisque and fennel.

The lighthouse and whopper ferries near Amar Café.

It was a long haul out to the shipyard sector, but worth every step, even in the heat. Though Amar’s interior was minimalist, our meals delivered subtle yet sumptuous flavors. And to top it off, we were surrounded by the vast vue mer, punctuated with formidable ferries on the Sète-Morocco circuit.

The jazzy bar at Le Flore on Place Aristide Briand.

On the way back to our water bus for our trip home, we paused for coffee at Le Flore on the recently redeveloped Place Aristide Briand, great for people-watching. I was tempted to pick up a much-lauded cinnamon bun at the Cariola boulangerie, but the line was long. And since there’s also an outpost in Mèze, I figured I could get my carb fix when we got back to our temporary homestead.

The summer water jousting event in Mèze is a crowd-pleaser.

Peaceful sunset along the boardwalk in Mèze.

Over the next few days, I not only devoured a Cariola cinnamon bun, but also the praline version. (They’re both so yummy, I still haven’t decided which is my fave!) We lunched on the port, strolled the evening artisan’s market, and caught the lively jousting-by-boat event, plus lucked on to an outdoor concert. And, of course, we birded a bit and swam in the calm, cool waters of the lagoon. All in all, despite the summer crowds, we enjoyed a tranquil and rejuvenating outing, just a hop, skip and a petit saut from home.

***

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

The Eurasian Oystercatcher, by Hobbyfotowiki, CCO, Wikipedia Commons

We spotted a number of these striking Eurasian Oystercatchers in the marshy area of Mèze’s nature park. They also frequent the nearby water treatment plant, which is fenced off, but offers clear views of bird life through the chain-link barriers. Just goes to show that one man’s no-go zone may be a feathered friend’s Shangri-La.

My book signing event at the main Saint-Rémy bookstore.

PPS

My late-summer book signing at the Saint-Rémy Librairie and Presse doubled as an impromptu buddies’ reunion. Here I am with bestie Beth Woodford, holding my first memoir Passion for Provence. Of course, my second book, The Birdwatcher’s Wife, and my most recent release, Pleasures of Provence, were available too. As a petit merci to those who stopped by, I doled out chocolate chip cookies—fait maison, of course!😊

Summer Escape to Stunning Stockholm

Stockholm shimmers in the summer sunshine.

Our Swedish escapade wasn’t prompted by the fierce July heatwave in Provence. It was sheer happenstance that a close US friend was passing through the Nordic country on a glass art tour at that time, and some other dear globe-trotting buddies who live just outside Stockholm were available to rendezvous with us then. So, to our pals goes the credit for the good timing.

And how we embraced the cooler climes that Stockholm delivered. Around 23C (78 F) every day, the pleasant temperature was perfect for exploring the sophisticated city of islands—14 major ones, in fact. But boy-o-boy, did we heat up as we burned beaucoup calories walking from one to the other. From our digs in the Norrmalm neighborhood, we covered a ton of territory, crossing countless bridges, just not all 57. Mesmerized by the shimmering beauty that surrounded us, we often didn’t realize we’d island-hopped.

The tower in Sergel’s Square changes colors at night.

On the 20-minute jaunt to the waterside where the sightseeing ferries dock, we jostled with shoppers in the bustling commercial district along Hamngatan. In Gamla Stan, we marveled at the medieval architecture, reminding us of old town Heidelberg. We soaked up the bohemian ambiance in hip Södermalm, dipping into quirky boutiques and passing casual coffee shops and bars. By contrast, the residential neighborhood of Östermalm oozed affluence.

Our reunion with our friend on the art tour took place at the stylish Hotel Nobis, with its luminous golden-lit bar and dramatic glass-domed atrium. Just around the corner, we visited the wildly impressive interior design store Svenskt Tenn. I could have spent hours there, but off we went along the jammed pedestrian street called Nybrogatan, popping into a few galleries before wandering around the posh food hall, Östermalms Saluhall.

Of all the restaurant choices available, we opted for lunch at a French-style bistro called Crème. Skipping the fish options, I chose the salade de chevre chaud, giving in to my impulse to try the Swedish version of the classic French goat cheese salad. And delicious it was, albeit surprising due to the startling quantity of beets, in a variety of shades and shapes. In general, I’m fond of the tanginess of the fermented root veggie—in garnish portions—so this heavily beet-laden dish was a challenge. I didn’t finish every purple bite, but I did my best, thinking they were good for me, surely surpassing any daily recommended dosage of probiotics that may exist. Maybe it was my imagination, but for the rest of the day, my face seemed to reflect a distinctly pinkier hue.

Taking advantage of the green spaces under sunny skies

Next on the agenda was strolling to a nearby park, King’s Garden. But before crossing a street, we carefully checked for moving vehicles—of which there were a ton, including all sorts of bikes and scooters, in addition to buses and cars—not to mention marching bands. There, in the lush green space, nattily dressed crowds sipped coffee and nibbled snacks from a charming pavilion-cafe under the ancient shade trees, while more casually dressed families with kids lounged on the grass, taking advantage of the fair weather.

Along the way, we noted the huge lines at the ferry terminal, preparing for trips to the far-reaching islands, and admired the National Theater and other impressive hotels and municipal buildings built to last beyond eternity.

The rendezvous with our second group of friends took on a different vibe. Since one was a native, we were treated to an insider’s peek into some off-the-beaten-track venues. First was the National Library to check out the biggest medieval manuscript in the world—clocking in at a yard high, 50 inches wide, 20 inches thick, and weighing in at 165 pounds. A few rooms over, we saw a display of vintage Pippy Longstocking books, written by renowned Swedish children’s author Astrid Lindgren.

The surreal-looking Brunkeberg Tunnel for cyclists and pedestrians is a tourist attraction.

Turkish burger stand sends up delicious offerings in short order

Lunch awaited across town at a rustic food hall, Hötorgshallen, on Hötorget Square, where our Swedish friend directed us down the escalator and over to his fave stand for Turkish burgers—scrumptious! Before leaving, we roamed around the stalls and snagged some packets of enticing spices—a perfect lightweight memento, fit for a small carry-on.

After milling around the charity shop, Myrorna, we headed for a coffee break at the near-century-old Swedish bakery, Vete-Katten. According to legend, our Swedish friend told us the name comes from the phrase, det vete katten, the cat knows, used when an answer isn’t evident. Apparently, the owners of the café couldn’t decide what to name it, so they left the dilemma with the felines. I loved this place for its old-world charm, quiet corners for chatting, and delicious pastries, especially the cardamom bun—sooo yummy.

Water, water everywhere in Stockholm, a city of islands

This super hero may be desperate for a Funky Chicken smashburger!

Though there wasn’t time to go with our local friends, they gave us a wonderful tip—eat a smashburger at the Funky Chicken food truck on Nacka Strand, a ferry ride away. I didn’t know what a smashburger was at the time, but I sure do now. Some might consider it simply a slightly crispy flattened hamburger, but the Funky Chicken flock adds some very special magic. The theme of the week was the Bad Gringo Burger with flaming jalapeños, and I awarded it my Yummerlicious Seal of Approval. It took 30 minutes standing in line to order, and another 30 for the burgers—both devoured in 10. (They come in single- or double-patty formats.) Was it worth it? You bet—with one caveat. I would only go if the weather is nice, but that doesn’t stop the locals. Our friends say to expect a line even in winter.

Whereas we’d taken the basic—but spic and span—bus into town, which offered a leisurely thirty-five-minute introduction to the city, on the way home, we boarded the sleek and silent Arlanda express train—18 minutes to the airport. After a three-hour flight back to Marseille, and an hour’s drive home to St. Rémy, we found the heat gauge still stuck on sizzle.

***

Regarding the current situation in hot and dry France, where the fire risk in many areas remains high…We are enormously grateful to the courageous firefighters who have battled the blazes, some paying the ultimate price with their lives. Our hearts go out to their families and all those affected. While we wait for much-needed showers, we hope that the rest of the summer sees everyone exercising extreme caution to prevent further devastation.

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Be safe.

Bises, Gayle

The elegant Smew by Mick Lobb, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 2.0, cropped

Ralph has never seen this northern bird, but it was a possibility in Stockholm. He took his binoculars just in case. As often as he scanned the waters, the elusive Smew never came into view, so Ralph’s track record remains intact. Next time!

Poster for the book signing at the main Saint-Rémy bookshop on 29 August, 2026

PPS

Some happy news on the book front. St. Rémy’s main bookshop recently hosted the actor/author Jean Reno (love him in French Kiss with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline) for a book signing of his second novel. Guess who’s following in his footsteps on 29 August? I can’t believe it either. I was stunned when the owner asked me, “If you will be here in August, would you like to do a signing?” I nearly blurted in disbelief, “MOI?” But luckily, I caught myself and replied, “Avec plaisir!” I’d love to see you there!

Rhapsody in Bleue: The Other “Côte d’Azur”

Keeping cool by the pool at the Hôtel Bleu in Carry-le-Rouet, near the French Riviera

Counting the côtes in La Belle France isn’t the quick trick you might think.

The offshore islands and overseas territories aside, the country’s mainland boasts 3,400 kilometers (2,100 miles approx.) of coastline, comprising three dozen named côtes. Bordering the North Sea/English Channel, Atlantic, and Mediterranean, they range in length from the Côte Basque, measuring less than a kilometer, to the Côte d’Argent (the Silver Coast), at 230+ kilometers.

Scrumptious asparagus starter at La Calanque Bleue

Though not the longest, the Côte d’Azur is by far the most famous slice of French coast, commonly known as the French Riviera. It begins somewhere around Saint-Tropez—the Western boundary isn’t specific—and passes east through a series of picture-postcard-pretty towns such as Villefranche-sur-Mer, Antibes, and Menton, extending to the Italian border.

A thousand shades of blue along the Côte Bleue

Sitting in the western shadows of its famous neighbor, but spectacularly shimmery in its own right, is the Côte Bleue, the Blue Coast. It’s the second shortest stretch of named coastline at 25-30 kilometers, but includes some dazzling coastal scenes—in the most brilliant of blue hues.

One fun way to get the best bird’s-eye views is to hop aboard the Train Bleu, the Blue Train, that runs back and forth between Miramas and Marseille. It’s not a special, dolled-up tourist carriage but an ordinary train that offers an extraordinary visual experience. But just as the blank black views of the tunnels whizz right by, so do the most striking scenes. There’s no pausing for the photo ops of the stellar stretches since it’s a working train, after all, with a schedule to keep. But if you have the time, you can buy a one-day pass and ride around all you want.

Ralph and I were staying in Carry-le-Rouet for a few days, so we hopped on the train there, heading east. It only took a few minutes to reach our destination, the teensy enclave of Niolon, but the sparkling azure inlets were divine. After hiking along the coast in both directions, and a picnic lunch in the shade, with a glistening cove for our view, we reboarded the train. We didn’t disembark in Carry-le-Rouet, but kept on going to La Couronne, where we walked through town, down to the beach. There we had our pick of cafes to enjoy a cool drink, right on the sand.

“Wrapping Bonbon” sculpture by female artist, Laurence Jenkell, Le Hôtel Bleu

Carry-le-Rouet begins to twinkle at dusk

Riding the rails may have been the novelty highlight of our getaway, but there was more to our mini adventure, under 90 minutes from home. We saw gannets dive for dinner in the leisure boat port at Carry, swam in an infinity pool overlooking the town, tried to eat our weight in fresh seafood, and watched France conquer Senegal in a World Cup match—en plein air—thanks to the projection on screens covering both sides of a very large van parked in front of the casino, just steps from the sea. An area filled with folding chairs was cordoned off, but no tickets needed. Friendly gendarmes invited us to take a seat alongside elders, youngsters, and everyone in between. With each roar of the crowd, we were easily swept up in the frenzy of the community celebration, the breeze balmy, a starry night in the making. A belle vie portrait, to be sure.

Carry-le-Rouet from the seaside walking path

***

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

The gannet takes top honors for bird of the month for July. Love watching it torpedo dive.

Photo of a diving gannet by Olivier Dugornay (Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 4.0)

PPS

On June 26, a brief excerpt of Pleasures of Provence was narrated by Lucy Bickley as part of the Human Voices Only project on Instagram. The purpose of the international event was to shine a spotlight on the importance of using human voices—rather than AI-generated voices—in narrated books. I was honored to participate in this worthy cause, and I hope that the future holds audio versions of at least one, if not all, of my books—lending the works the intended natural emotional dimension, narrated by an actual human. Let’s see, how about Sandra Bullock?

“Basque-ing” in the Delights of Saint-Jean-de-Luz

The Bay of Saint-Jean-de-Luz from Pointe Sainte-Barbe

Surf’s up in Saint-Jean-de-Luz—and not just at the beach.

La Grande Plage, Saint-Jean-de-Luz, is steps from downtown, packed with boutiques and cafes.

This seafaring city near the Spanish border is awash with a vibrant let’s-go-and-do energy. No matter whether you’re atop a board, catching a wave on La Grande Plage or perched on a bistro stool, people-watching in Place Louis XIV, a distinct dynamism is sure to engulf you.

Signage in both French and Basque announces the presence of a dolphin in the bay, which we saw!

This buzzy vibe may be due in no small part to the area’s unique cultural mix, and specifically to its bilingual context. The Basque cultural region may have fuzzy demarcations, stretching from Spain’s northeastern corner across into southwestern France, but its distinctive language—with no known linguistic relatives—is clearly marked pretty much everywhere. From traffic signs to restaurant menus, both French and Basque languages are on display. This integral part of the fabric of life here lends the area a formidable layer of substance, along with an exotic, spirited dimension.

That spunky vitality is most obvious at the shore. The natural setting is so jaw-droppingly gorgeous, your first instinct may be to jump up and down and clap your hands like a little kid, just before scooting down to the sand to dig your toes in—as well you should. Stretching for about a kilometer, the wide beach invites all types of merrymakers. There’s plenty of room to throw Frisbees, build sandcastles, or walk laps barefoot through the ripples. You can also loop around along the wide elevated promenade, where you’ll share the space with baby buggies and selfie-snapping tourists.

View from the terrace of the snazzy Grand Hôtel Spa & Thalasso, right on the promenade.

Either route you take, in this zeal-filled town, you’ll be treated to endless scenes of people on the move, jogging, hiking, cycling, and engaged in all manner of water sports, including waist-deep water walking—called longe-côte. Whatever the endeavor, all parties are privileged to soak up the superlative views of the crescent bay, hugged by emerald mountains and, along the promenade, distinctive Basque architecture.

And after the thrill of experiencing all the energy—as a participant or a mere observer—nourishment is de rigueur. And what a stellar array of options there are in this foodie town. If a picnic is in order, head to the covered market, Les Halles, for supplies, or if it’s Tuesday or Friday, stock up at the bustling outdoor stalls encircling Les Halles.

Customers await their turn at their favorite stalls.

For a more formal meal, choose from one of the countless bistros and gourmet restaurants in town or along the coast for dazzling views. The meal that sent us over the moon was at Chez Mattin, located in a residential area in Ciboure, across La Nivelle River, on the south side of the port.

A reserved table at Chez Mattin awaits its lucky guests

I’d made a lunch reservation online at the historic, family-run establishment—in business since the 1970s—but upon arrival, Madame Niquet found no record of it. And, there were no unclaimed tables—the place was packed. (I found out later my reservation hadn’t actually been confirmed.) But when the proactive owner learned it was our anniversary, she took no time hustling up a temporary table, placing it by the bar, close to the hustle-bustle, which added to the festive mood.

Cookbook by Chez Mattin owners Michel et Céline Niquet.

A rich soupe de poisson amuse-bouche served in a shot glass preceded our entrée of sardines, prepared two ways—grilled and pan-fried. Both were extraordinary in their simplicity, as were our main dishes. No fussy flower petals precisely positioned with tweezers here. Our whitefish dishes were unbelievably fresh, surrounded by an array of colorful seasonal veggies, resting in either a spiced-just-right celeriac emulsion or a velvety bouillabaisse sauce. These dishes offered a satisfying depth of flavor that pushed our savor sensors into high gear. We lingered as long as we could, enjoying the convivial ambiance, until the last sip of our wine. Thankfully, our bike ride home was downhill, so we cruised carefree and chuffed, feeling like we’d hit a culinary jackpot, a fitting way to celebrate our special day.

A Great Egret saunters through the Nature Reserve Marais d’Orx

A rainbow of colorful espadrilles for tiny feet

The week went by in a flash, filled with hiking up to the Pointe Sainte-Barbe and over to the Plage d’Erromardie, making a birding excursion to the Réserve Naturelle Nationale du Marais d’Orx, the nature park north of Biarritz, St. Jean de Luz’s glitzy neighbor, cycling on our foldables all over town, and meandering through the network of pedestrian streets, checking out the boutiques. (I loved Bayona for artisanal espadrilles and Maison Jean-Vier for authentic stripes-centric Basque textiles. The historic company also has a large concept store with furniture close to Guéthary).

Park Victoria’s distant view of La Rhune mountain peak

And, of course, we made the most of the gigantic pool at the inviting enclave of Park Victoria, where we were staying. Though the grounds were lush and our apartment stylishly design-forward, a sea view remained out of sight. Mesmerizing by day and night, that undulating vista called to us relentlessly throughout our stay, which just has to mean that we will be back.

Another enchanting sunset over the Bay of Saint-Jean-de-Luz

And on that happy occasion, I’ll ensure our digs come with a vue mer, and I’ll schedule our visit better, allowing us to be on site by Sunday morning. This trip, that was the only time period we weren’t in St. Jean, so I missed a fave activity—roaming the outdoor market in Ciboure, with vendors selling non-food items like textiles, ceramics, and baskets.

Festive staffers ready to take orders at the Festival Andalou

Despite my flawed planning regarding the restaurant booking and market miss, we reveled in our St. Jean sojourn, and it ended on a super festive note. The night before our departure, we received a great send-off, marked by the Festival Andalou (Andalusian Festival), a salute to southern Spain. The multi-day event featured colorful flamenco dancers, concerts, and plenty of paella, tapas, and ice-cold cerveza. Olé!

Twinkly lights illuminate the Bay of Saint-Jean-de-Luz

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises,

Gayle

Photo (cropped) of a Little Bittern by Ron Knight, UK, CC BY 2.0, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The bird of the month for June is the normally shy Little Bittern that paid Ralph a rare visit the other day at l’Étang des Aulne, about a 40-minute drive from Saint-Rémy.

PPS

Book News

Happily, my first book, Passion for Provence: 22 Keys to La Belle Vie, is enjoying a bit of attention lately. So in a few days, it will be part of a Kindle Countdown promotion on Amazon. On 15 June, the cost will be 99 cents and then increase by about a dollar daily until it reaches its regular price of $5.99. If you (or a Francophile friend) prefer to read on Kindle and haven’t read it yet, this would be a fine time! Passion for Provence on Amazon.com

As for Pleasures of Provence, it is making its way around the world in unexpected ways. Devoted fans from the South Pacific have arranged for an inscribed copy to be shepherded across the seas by special envoy, taking several weeks, including a stopover at a South American embassy. What other gratifying surprise might be in store—a call from Oprah? Well, while we’re dreaming, might as well go big, n’est-ce pas?😊 Pleasures of Provence on Amazon.com

Playing Tour Guide in Our Patch of Provence

Stunning Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, about 40 minutes from Saint-Rémy.

Showing off our Provençal playground to visitors always promises oohs and ahhs of delight. And that’s just me. Playing tour guide in and around Saint-Rémy gives me the opportunity to see my adopted home from different perspectives, which is gratifying in fresh new ways.

Isle-sur-la-Sorgue shimmers under sunny skies.

But donning my host hat means giving the travelers the best experience. And a key trick to guests getting the biggest kick possible out of the area’s treasures is tailoring the tours to match their preferred interests.

A collection of straw hats as outdoor decor on Place Favier,

Happily, my latest “tourees” were devoted foodies, marketers, and art-and-architecture lovers like me, and also shared my penchant for hiking the hills. So, designing an itinerary was a snap.

We covered a good amount of territory in a few days, aiming for a rich, yet unrushed roster of activities—always staying flexible and keeping tabs on energy levels. After their Lyon to Arles river cruise, my buddies were anxious to get out and about. To that end, we caught up as we ambled around old-town St. Rémy, admiring the pretty squares—particularly Place Favier and Place Pellissier—and pausing at art galleries and boutiques. We strolled up to the sanitarium Saint-Paul-de-Mausole, where Van Gogh stayed (1889-1890)—and painted The Starry Night—and walked across the foothills of the Alpilles, taking in one of the best overviews of the town.

A starter at Le Capoun–*mais oui*, asparagus season is here!

When the weather cooperated, we enjoyed apèros on the terrace and lingered over lunch featuring salades de chèvre chaud. Luckily, the day that Mother Nature decided to throw a “damp” tantrum, we had reservations for a special déjeuner at Le Capoun.

A photograph of Picasso merged with a self-portrait at Carrières des Lumières

Other highlights were Saint-Rémy’s fabulous Wednesday outdoor market and Carrières des Lumières, for the immersive sound-and-light show starring Picasso and the Mexican painter Frida Kahlo. Excursions to Isle-sur-la-Sorgue and Aix-en-Provence rounded out the visit.

A vineyard view from the foothills of the Alpilles, above Saint-Rémy

Then came the hard part—saying au revoir to my très chères amies. But we made memories that we’ll treasure…forever.

***

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

When May rolls around, so do Rollers—remarkable!

PPS

Pleasures of Provence is making its way around the world. I always love to hear how the story resonates with readers, so if you have a favorite part (or parts!), please do let me know. And if you’d like to share your enthusiasm on Amazon or Goodreads, that would be marvelous. Many, many heartfelt thanks in advance for taking the time for that—it means a ton.

A Trio of Special Sweet Treats…from Saint-Rémy-de-Provence

The scrumptious enticements from Maison Gaillardet, in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence

Of the five basic food groups rarely touted by nutritionists–salt, fat, alcohol, caffeine, and sugar–it’s the last one that doesn’t hold great appeal for me. Well, at least, not since I lost interest in trick-or-treating. Given the choice between a bag of Ripples or chocolate-chip cookies, the salt-fat combo wins every time.

But, there are delicious exceptions that activate my sweet tooth, and three happen to be “native” to Saint-Rémy. All of these irresistible gems are found in centre ville shops, which are charmingly compact. Considering their popularity, a brief wait is typical, but despair not. Pausing allows time to consider all the exquisite possibilities on offer. You might need to expand your original order.

The charming Maître Chocolatier Joël Durand in his inviting shop in Saint-Rémy.

First up is the famous chocolate shop of Joël Durand, Maître Chocolatier. Established in 1996, this delightful boutique will make your head spin with its variety of chocolates and flavors, ranging from classic to exotic. Dark and milk chocolate versions abound, some loaded with all sorts of nuts.

Jars of buttery salted caramel line the shelves at Joël Durand.

But there’s one fabulous specialty item not related to a cocoa bean that you might miss if you didn’t know to look for it–crème caramel-beurre salé. Once you taste this buttery, salty caramel sauce, you’ll want to scoop it from the jar like ice cream from a tub. Look for the hexagonal-shaped glass jars, stacked right next to the chocolate sauces, which, of course, are exquisite, as well. Most likely, you’ll be tempted to acquire an assortment.

Maison Gaillardet’s specialty in the petite size.

Next is Maison Gaillardet, known for their Troprovençale, a take on the tarte tropézienne, a type of two-layered sponge cake with a fluffy cream filling, hailing from Saint-Tropez. The rendition Gaillardet produces is made with a lighter brioche-style cake flavored with orange blossom. In addition to the lovely traditional flavor, other delectable styles are on offer, such as lavender, coconut, and chocolate. Not only are they scrumptious, but they are packaged in spirited orange and white striped boxes. Be sure to order ahead if you need one for a special occasion.

The stack of Sacristains won’t last long.

Rounding up the trio is Boulangerie Bergese, near l’Église Saint-Martin, which offers a terrific assortment of breads, including their classic baguette, the Alpillette, along with buttery croissants, pains au chocolate, and too-pretty-to-eat patisserie. But among all this carby richness, there’s a treat not to be overlooked: the Sacristains. These long twists of frangipane aux amandes-filled puff pastries are dusted with sugar and toasted almonds. They’re heavenly but impossible to consume without creating a cloud of crumbs, so you might consider heading for a bench just around the corner on pretty Place Favier, where you can munch away with abandon. The pigeons will thank you.

Wherever you are, dear readers, wishing you health, happiness, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

Common Redstart photo by Jerzy Strzelecki, CC BY 3.0, Wikimedia Commons

Near the base of the Alpilles, Ralph and I spotted this cute Common Redstart, which has arrived a tad early for its summer holiday. Happy timing!

PPS

Pleasures of Provence: A Quest for the Secret to Joie de Vivre in La Belle France was released last month, and I’m pleased to report that it reached #1 Best Seller status on Amazon.com, in the categories of French Travel and Provence Travel Guides, which seems to be where travel memoirs land. At any rate, seeing the small red moniker next to my book was a kick. If you read on Kindle, you may be interested to know that for the next few days it’s priced at 99 cents: Pleasures of Provence. I hope that if you take a peek, you find the story engaging and uplifting too. If you do, it would mean a lot if you’d share your positive reaction with fellow Francophile readers. (Amazon and Goodreads would welcome these reviews too.) Merci beaucoup, in advance, for taking the time to do that. It’s much appreciated!

Pleasures of Provence Arrives!

Cover of *Pleasures of Provence*, to be published 20 March 2026.

Guess what the first day of spring brings–Pleasures of Provence: A Quest for the Secret to Joie de Vivre in La Belle France! And I am bursting at the seams with delight…and relief. If you’ve been following this blog, you know I thought it was unlikely that my third “baby” would see the light of day this month. It appears, however, that a surprise is in store for 20 March.

Here’s the book description:

A dream life filled with adventure, rosé, and sunshine in the South of France is paradise found … until a brush with the law threatens it all.

For American expats Gayle and Ralph, losing their beloved belle vie in a Provençal village is unimaginable. Determined to protect this Frenchified good life, Gayle embarks on a quest to define the essence of the allure: the secret to joie de vivre.

Unlocking the mystery leads to treks by boats, bikes, and boots across the country’s diverse regions. The intrepid couple explores striking landscapes, navigates the quirks of French culture, and indulges in delectable cuisine. From bustling markets in charming villages to blockbuster expos in the City of Light, each chapter is a feast for the senses, brimming with humor, warmth, and unforgettable characters.

These escapades ultimately reveal the elusive answer Gayle seeks: The Pleasure Principles. They’re uncomplicated but require practice—with a French twist.

More than a travel memoir, this enchanting book is a heartfelt and witty journey into the soul of Provence and beyond. A celebration of la belle vie, it’s a delightful read for anyone who loves French adventures, food, and finding joie de vivre moments.

If your interest is piqued and you take a chance on the book, I hope you thoroughly enjoy the read. It will be available through any bookstore very soon, but it’s debuting on Amazon in paperback and Kindle on Friday. (At the moment, only the Kindle is on pre-order.) Here’s the link: Pleasures of Provence. Please feel free to share my good news with your Francophile friends:)

Thank you, dear readers, for your support of this blog. It’s my heartfelt hope that my missives from the South of France deliver some spirit-boosting moments, adding to your joie de vivre.

Wherever you are, all the best for happiness, health, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

Bearded Reedling by Caroline Legg, CC BY 2.0, Wikimedia Commons

I’ve seen this cutie with the distinctive moustache only once, as it loves to hide, but Ralph got lucky with a good look recently at Scamandre Nature Preserve, south of Nîmes.

Stamp of Approval for our Provençal Dream

From atop the Alpilles, a view over Saint-Rémy, the patch of Provence that stole our hearts so many years ago…and, happily, has kept safe since.

Hip, hip, hooray! The French government made our day!

Late one morning earlier this month, my mobile phone buzzed but showed no number or name. I figured it was probably a cold caller wanting to sell me something. Baffled, yet curious because it was so unusual not to see some sort of ID, I answered and waited. A stern female voice asked for confirmation that I was Mme Padgett and then proceeded to list the items I should bring to the Sous-Prefecture in Arles at 8:45 AM, on Thursday—two days later. Of course, I assured her, both my husband and I would be delighted to appear at the local branch office of the regional government. As much as I wanted to add, “with bells on toes,” instead, I offered a polite bonne journée.

The impressive Hôtel de Ville, City Hall, in Arles.

With celebratory hoots and hollers ringing in my head, I scurried to find Ralph to relay the positive news—our application for the extension of our second ten-year residency cards was progressing. We’d submitted our packet at the beginning of January, four months before our current cards expired. (This was the earliest we were allowed to begin the renewal process.) A week later, we’d been informed that some financial records were required, so we’d sent them in. Now, I just hoped the exacting French bureaucrats were asking to see us for all the right reasons and not to send us packing.

Arriving at the Sous-Prefecture before the designated hour, we found a line by the main door and two officials outside overseeing the entry process. Our names were on a list, so we were ushered directly inside and each given a number. One by one, the handful of people already seated in the waiting room hopped up in response to their number flashing on the digital screen bolted to the wall, and disappeared through a door.

Remarkably, all them returned in just a few minutes and headed for the exit. We hadn’t been to this government office in a decade, and back then, we’d waited hours to see an official, and the interaction usually took some time. So we wondered if these people had very simple issues, so had been processed quickly, or had they been promptly rejected? We would find out the answer to our case sooner than expected.

Before the time of our appointment, our number pinged, and into the back office we went. A young woman greeted us matter-of-factly and asked for the documents we’d been told to bring. With minimal small talk, we followed instructions for making digital fingerprints and signed some documents. She explained that we would receive an email about our status soon, and when the permanent plastic cards were ready, we’d receive a text to pick them up. This all seemed very positive, so we thanked the official enthusiastically and gathered our things. Before leaving, I paused and said that though it was already February, I wanted to wish her Bonne Année. Happily, my Happy New Year comment elicited a smile. We were standing outside the building at 8:56, a mere eleven minutes after our appointed rendezvous. We took nothing for granted, but it appeared that we were on a fast track for acceptance.

The Museum of Fashion and Costume, which opened in 2025.

On the way to a café to sip a coffee and let the positive turn of events sink in, we passed the Fragonard Musée de la Mode et du Costume, a new museum dedicated to fashion and costumes. Opened in the summer of 2025 by the venerable family-run Fragonard perfume empire (founded in 1926 in Grasse), the first expo showcasing the elegant attire of the Arlésiennes—which influenced Paris fashion in the late 19^th century—was on my want-to-do list. However, I’d done no planning, and now the show had closed. And so were the impressive carved wood doors of the restored mansion cum museum. They would reopen in March for the next exhibition, which undoubtedly would be terrific too. I made a mental note not to miss this one.

Bullfighting paraphernalia at Café Tambourin

We didn’t need to push through any doors to appreciate some other wonders in Arles. Just opposite the Sous-Prefecture stands the Théatre Antique d’Arles, the stadium seating and columns partially visible from the street. The semi-circular theater erected 12-15 BC could accommodate 10,000. Used primarily for dramatic or cultural events, the original stage spanned fifty meters. Even now, its remains are impressive.

The stunning Roman amphitheater in the center of Arles

But the whopper attraction in Arles is the magnificently preserved, two-tiered amphitheater (90 AD) with seating for 20,000 spectators, who came to watch events more on the combative side of entertainment. Think gladiators and such. Though bullfights still take place here during the Feria d’Arles, the site is used primarily for concerts and other extravaganzas. Even though I’ve walked by this magnificent monument countless times, on this ordinary winter day—perhaps because we’d emerged victorious after what had seemed like a battle of sorts—I couldn’t help but stop and wonder at its sheer extraordinariness. (That last word actually is one, right up there with remarkableness, according to Merriam-Webster. Who knew?)

The historic Hôtel Nord-Pinus on Place du Forum

After a quiet coffee on the Place du Forum, where Van Gogh painted Terrace of a Café at Night (1888), I popped into the newly renovated Grand Hôtel Nord-Pinus for a quick look-see. For 150 years, the legendary lodging has been attracting luminaries such as Picasso, Jack Kerouac, Jean-Paul Sartre, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Maria Callas, and Simone Signoret, to name a few. Today, there was no flurry of activity with paparazzi engaging red-carpet personalities, but I had no doubts the hotel’s understated glamour would continue the tradition of attracting those wishing to see and be seen.

The mighty Rhône River flows gently past Arles en route to the Med.

In fact, on this chilly morning in the south of France, Ralph and I had visited this UNESCO World Heritage Site city precisely to see and be seen—by bureaucrats. Both missions accomplished, we’d left the ancient Roman town that boasted an incredibly rich heritage with the promise of a ten-year extension of what amounted to the right to continue making our own history, right here in our little patch of Provence…where, as surprising as it may be…that very afternoon, we received the precious attestation, or confirmation—France was extending our residence cards until 2036!

Wherever you are, dear readers, all the best for happiness, health, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

A Greater Flamingo recently greeted me with open “arms” at the Pont de Gau Nature Park.

Not far from Arles, you’ll find the terrific nature park, Pont de Gau, where flamingos flock. On the day we visited, I caught my favorite bird with wings wide, as if offering me a giant hug.

PPS

Pleasures of Provence: A Quest for the Secret to Joie de Vivre in La Belle France isn’t exactly gaining speed as it nears the finish line. The production team is managing the last tweaks to the cover and interior design, but the changes are taking more time than expected. It’s hard to be hopeful that this bundle will be delivered by the end of March, but we shall see. I feel like one of my friends who laughs about how much she wants patience and wants it right now😊 Watch this space!

A New Year Amble Near Saint-Rémy: Villeneuve-les-Avignon

Avignon emerges through the mist–as seen from Fort Saint-André in Villeneuve-lès-Avignon.

Bonne Année 2026 to all!

January in Saint-Rémy has brought chilly temps, and “damp,” gray days have been the norm. But then—surprise!—sunbeams burst forth, brightening the landscape and lifting spirits.

The positive vibes the sunshine brings made our little ramble ‘round Villeveuve-les-Avignon much sweeter. We hadn’t visited this petite enclave across the River Rhône from Avignon for quite some time, and I’d been wanting to check out a restaurant there called Maison Bronzini. So after an appointment in the former papal city (1309-1376), Ralph and I took advantage of the proximity to have a mini-adventure.

Here’s a glimpse of what we found:

Boulanger Patissier Marcellin offers a vast array of enticing delicacies

A gentleman takes advantage of the rain-free morning.

From under the arcades on sunny Place Meissonnier

No doorbell needed with this sturdy vintage knocker

Inviting Maison Bronzini offers an open fireplace!

Finding treasures in the boutique at Maison Bronzini was easy, but timing was off for a proper sit-down lunch in the restaurant. I can’t wait to return for an actual meal—the venue looks stunning, and I bet the cuisine team delivers meals to match.

***

Wherever you are, dear readers, all the best for happiness, health, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

Red-breaster Merganser, by Chuck Homler, CC BY-SA 4.0, (cropped), Wikimedia Commons

Surrounded by oil refineries and Marseille airport, the Étang de Berre isn’t exactly Saint-Tropez. But much to our delight, a punky Red-breasted Merganser–which ranges widely in the northern hemisphere–found it suitably appealing, pushing Ralph’s year bird count to 60.

PPS

Pleasures of Provence: A Quest for the Secret to Joie de Vivre in La Belle France is edging toward publication. At this point, it’s a question of finalizing the cover and tweaking the formatting–stages that require scrutiny and patience. We’re progressing, however, and here’s hoping a March release is still possible. Watch this space!