Lost in Provence

Johann's "Business Trip"

Club Med Pool

Wow! So much has been going on that there hasn't even been time to write about it. One thing at a time...

First on the list of (somewhat) current events is Johann's trip to Morocco. That's right, Johann's trip. I didn't get to go. His company takes everyone on a trip in January if they have reached the previous year's sales goals. How well they did determines where everyone gets to go. So to get to Marrakech they had to do better than the year they went skiing in the Alps, but worse than the one when they were all taken to Brazil.

Spices and Dried Fruit at the Souk

They got to bring spouses the year they went to Brazil. Unfortunately, they abandoned that practice. It's technically a work trip, with planning meetings and such in the mornings, but the afternoons are either free or filled with company-organized outings. They discovered, though, that the employees tended to ditch the outings and spend time alone with their spouses when given the chance. And since part of the point of the trip is for the team to do a little bonding, they don't invite us distracting extras along anymore. Sigh.

Twelve Euros, Please!

Did I mention that they stayed at Club Med? They did. Sigh. Fortunately, Johann understood that the quality of the souvenirs he brought back would determine exactly how long he had to listen to a bunch of sighing on the subject of missing out on Club Med in Marrakech, so he didn't disappoint and brought me back some lovely things from the souk (open-air marketplace).

This wasn't as easy as it sounded, though. There was just too much to choose from, and too many insistent vendors to rebuff. One had quite the scam going. He would come up to tourists and place his monkey on someone's shoulder, then encourage their friends to take a photo. After they did, he would ask for the monkey's sitting fee: "Twelve euros, please!" I doubt there are many tourists green enough to pay him the asking price, but Johann's group did cough up two euros for the photo. There was another man trying the same trick for the same price with a snake. If you're ever there and want to find him, I would imagine you could just head in the direction of the shrieking and crying. 

Tea on Mt. Atlas

The activities sounded fun, though, and I was sorry to miss it all. He and his colleagues were chauffered in up the side of Mt. Atlas in 4X4s, where a traditional Moroccan tea (hot tea made with fresh mint leaves) was set up. Then they drove to a nearby lake, where lunch was being served in tents on the shore. They also visited a beautiful and ornate palace that, back in its day, boasted a separate room for each member of the harem. What lucky, lucky girls.

The company also organized a dîner-spectacle (dinner and a show) right there at Club Med. The acts included a belly dancer, snake charmer, acrobats and a woman who danced with a platter of lit candles on her head. There were also two youths standing at attention at either side of the stage, each holding a camel. This looked promising, entertainment-value-wise, but it turned out that they were there more for decoration.

Belly Dancer

Johann recommends Morocco overall, but says he wishes they had stayed somewhere closer to the coast, like Casablanca. He would also go when the weather is warm enough to swim. He thoroughly enjoyed the all-inclusive experience, though. Pools, open bars, buffets, spas, golf, tennis and other sports never fail to please, do they? More photos of his trip can be seen at right under "Photos" and the link to the hotel is here: 

http://www.clubmed.us/cgi-bin/clubmed55/SP/villagesHeading.do?CODPER=07H&CODRUB=0&CODLSC=MRIC&PAYS=115&LANG=US 

Hello, Sports Fans!

It was eleven o'clock on a Sunday night. We each donned the uniform: dark jeans and black hoodie sweatshirts. We went over the list. Tape: check. Camera: check. Toilet paper: check. Posters of the Bordeaux soccer team: check. We drove for nearly a half-hour. When we got to Johann's stepfather's neighborhood, we killed the headlights and parked up the hill from their house. We shut the car doors quietly and didn't lock it. It makes that beep-beep sound when you do.

Marc & Gisele's Berlingo

Then we snuck up on the green Berlingo mini-van. Five minutes and six rolls later, we were done. We taped the poster to the windshield and Johann unzipped the hoodie to reveal the Bordeaux jersey underneath. I snapped a photo and we vanished once again into the night. Then we drove over to his uncle's house and repeated the same operation (but using only four rolls - having a small car is good for the environment in so many ways).

Then we giggled all the way home.

We should probably be too old for this, right? Well, we aren't. But there's a good reason for it. Johann is a Bordeaux fan, while pretty much everyone we know around here supports the Marseille soccer team. Last night's game made it 30 years since Marseille last won a game against Bordeaux on Bordeaux's home turf. Johann used to send everyone a postcard with something sassy written on it when this would happen, then we got creative and started making our own postcards with spray mount and clippings from L'Equipe magazine.

Uncle Guy's Car

We upped the ante the following year. When Marc and Gisele were on vacation we used the key they had given us and went to their house to take some pictures. Johann was wearing his Bordeaux jersey and, well, shoes. He was also riding Marc's Marseille scarf like it was Seabiscuit. After a few artfully chosen poses (smiling face, clear shot of scarf, just one butt-cheek clearly exposed) we put the scarf carefully back in the closet and erased all traces of our presence. The fun part was that Bordeaux and Marseille tied that year. You can't gloat over a tie, so we had to hang on to that picture for a whole year before the opportunity to mail it to them came up. The reaction was just what we expected. What the hell? Is that at our house? When did they take this picture? Is that my Marseille scarf? Euwww, I've been wearing that!

As you can imagine, they've been plotting their revenge ever since. They kept saying they had something GREAT planned for us this time. Alas, it was not to be. Bordeaux won again. We TP'd their cars and, to add insult to injury, they're going to get postcards with these photos of us doing it in the mail later this week. I'm starting to get why people like sports so much.

Spring Has Sprung!

Spring Flowers

Remember the post from a couple of weeks ago? The one where I announced that winter was here? Well, it's gone. The weekend was warm and sunny and spring flowers are starting to come out. Our tulips are just beginning to sprout, but the hyacinths have already produced some tiny flowers (left). On Saturday we went to a family lunch and considered eating outside. They had already set the table indoors, though, and didn't want to move everything out to the terrace at the last minute, which was understandable, but a shame, really.

Those of you in colder parts of the world are probably hating us a little bit right now. We'll talk about it later, when it's 104 degrees here and we're bemoaning our house's lack of air conditioning.

Ten Things You Didn't Know About Johann

Johann liked my "Ten Things You Didn't Know About Me" post so much (even though he knew all of them already) that he decided he wanted to have one of his own. Notice, though, that he wants to have one of his own, not to write one of his own. Writing it is my department, apparently, though he retained the right to edit the final product. So here it is:

1. On the road that leads to our house, there is a little turn where, for some unknown reason, butterflies tend to congregate. I always drive extra slowly around that corner because I think it would be a shame for one of them to meet its end on our windshield when their lifespans are already so short. That's right. I brake for butterflies.

2. I don't like having to button and unbutton dress shirts. This wastes precious seconds that I feel could be better used checking fantasy football sites on the Internet. The shirts go on and off over my head.

3. I am a special breed of Frenchman. I don't smoke, drink coffee, eat cheese or particularly like dessert. Very few people believe I am really French, to tell the truth. My wife asked to see my passport when we first met.

4. How tall am I? Depends. One leg is a half-inch shorter than the other.

5. I have recently developed a love for gardening. Seeing my plants grow (which they do against all odds, because I chuck  them into the ground when and where I please, regardless of whether they need sun, shade or seasonal planting) brings me real joy. Sometimes, I even talk to them. I have decided I won't worry about this behavior unless I start to hear them talk back. Then I'll seek help.

6. I was once featured in an article in L'Equipe magazine, the French equivalent of Sports Illustrated. I had stunned a sports radio talk show in France (available over the Internet) by calling in from my office in Chicago. They gave my contact information to the L'Equipe reporter and voila! She called to interview me for a story about French soccer teams using the Internet to reach out to their fans. Lisa and I snuck into my office over the weekend to take the photo that the reporter asked for. It seemed easier than explaining to my co-workers that I routinely made international long-distance calls from work when no one was around.

7. Countries I have visited include: Russia, China, Guadeloupe, Spain, Italy, Germany, Holland, Greece, Morocco and, naturally, the U.S.

8. Who is responsible for France's performance in the World Cup? Me. I truly believe that they cannot win unless I watch the matches from the States. Example: watched World Cup 1998 in the States - France wins World Cup 1998. Example: watched all but final match of World Cup 2006 in the States - France wins all but final match. Coincidence? I don't think so. Someone should tell Zidane. It seems he's been walking around with all kinds of unnecessary guilt over some head-butt thing.

9. As a child, I was routinely late coming home from school because I would climb a tree and sit up there munching on fruit (cherries, plums, peaches, apricots, whatever...) until someone came looking for me. 

10. I shop like an old Dutch man. I used to hate going grocery shopping, then I discovered coupons. Now, it's like a game to me. I'll comb the store for an item that neither of us even really wants and argue that we should buy it because we're getting 80 cents off. I recently stooped to a new low, picking up coupons from the floor of the supermarket. This is when Lisa told me I had to get my own cart and not make eye contact with her until we got back to the car. She's threatening to do our grocery shopping online from now on.

The End.