Dear Third Year BFA's...

Dear Third Years,

I'm writing this from Avignon, a medieval city in the South of France. We just came up here today from Beziers, down on the Mediterranean coast, where we spent some lazy time playing in the sea and exploring the countryside. Before that, we were in southern Spain... which is why I have been thinking of you.

You have been on my mind off and on ever since I landed in Spain, and got to remembering the work we did together for Blood Wedding. There I was, two years on, living and breathing the Spanish culture that we had talked about... and there they were, walking down the ramblas, arms entwined around each others' waists; or dancing at midnight in a little town square; or eating dinner at 10:00 at night (children included), because the whole country shuts down from 1:00 till 4:00. It's just such a different rhythm of life. The best part for us was that we were there to take part in a medieval festival that is hosted by an entire town for three days. The whole town dresses up and turns out to host it; they decorate the streets and cover up modern signs and -- young and old -- wander around in amazing costumes. My sons were so excited to be able to wear the 'armor' they had bought at the Tower of London and blend right in!! We got to watch an actual jousting tournament; we followed three of the 'knights' as they left a street tavern on horseback, still clutching some of the local brew. Needless to say, they were entertaining to follow but not so interesting to watch in the tournament, as that took some real horsemanship and a coordination that did not allow for pints of mead beforehand. What amazing spectacle... and all put on by amateurs with the fervor and passion the Spanish seem to put into everything. It would have been impossible without the sense of community that exuded from every cluster of buildings or gathering of people -- that's just something we don't develop or value in our North American towns. Of course the atmosphere was helped along hugely by cobbled roads and centuries old buildings and streets so narrow an SUV would never make it down one. It It truly was a different world -- so vibrant and colorful.

But what really caught my attention today and made me feel I must write you was on a different level entirely... . The bathrooms we've encountered in the Avignon area have been a bit of an eye opener for the kids -- you guessed it, they've encountered the infamous squatter I told you about!! There are a few actual toilets as well (occasionally), but they don't have seats -- you're meant to squat over them as well! We did not have this 'cultural experience in Spain as we were lucky enough to stay with British friends in their luxurious villa, but I have no doubt that the toilets of the masses were indeed, squatters!

The topless sunbathing that is de rigeur along the Mediterranean has also been a but of a revelation for the children. Perhaps not in the glamorous way you might think, though, as the majority of the sun bathers we've encountered tend to be older Swedish or German couples with an unhealthy predilection for tanning to a point of leathery brown that is obscene. Believe me, there's nothing too exciting in the sight of pendulous bits of mahogany colored flesh!!! But what is most interesting about it is how the kids, after the first startled few minutes, seem to take it all in stride and accept others' bodies as comfortably as everyone else here does. That is an education they could never get in school, and one I wish for you all!

May this year bring you the gift of the kind of ease within your skin that I see walking all around me here... and may it give you the skills to tap the passion and exuberance in life that we should all have every day...

Have a great one,
Candace

Fairy tales in France

We had a fairy-tale kind of day on Tuesday, meandering through the land of the Cathars where the Knights templars once were the admiration and scourge of the locals. For two boys who were hooked on the days of chivalry already (not that they practiced that virtue a whole lot), being in this neck of the world is just one revelation after another. Our pilgrimage to Carcasonne was, in all honesty, brought about because of the game of the same name that they have at home. I had no idea there was much to actually see in the place (being until now ignorant of all mediaeval history outside of Britain) -- so what a shock I got. Looming up before us was a palace of Sleeping Beautyesque proportions, endowed with no less than 52 towers along its outer walls. The great thing about Carcasonne is its gift of fleshing out details and enabling the growth of imagination; it is a complete castle complex: an outer wall, the medieval city and streets inside the keep, as well as a cathedral and castle. The history of the place dates back to the 9th Century, when the town was under siege. It had been going on for so long that the ruling Chieftainess (yes, a woman!!) called Carca was worried that the townspeople were going to starve. She took a gamble that the army outside the walls was feeling the same angst, and ordered a pig stuffed to the brim with food, and then thrown from a tower to the troops below. The leaders from the other side (presumably men!!), were aghast that there was still so much food they could allow such waste on the inside... they slunk away with their tails between their legs. Meanwhile, Carca was doing a dance of delight over the success of her plan and ordered all the bells to ring out her joy. The people took up the cry that "Carca sonne, Carca sonne" (Carca is ringing, she's ringing), and thus (so the legend goes) the town got its name. They know that the town did withstand a siege at that time, so there's basis for the legend -- and I love to picture a wild woman brimming with jubilation up and down those tremendous walls. Hearing bells ring out across the land is a great source of happiness for me and one I can't get enough of -- it was so delightful to actually trod in her footsteps in a mad caper along the top of those magnificent walls... .

It was really just a golden day, because we took our time getting there and the journey was as fun as the destination!! We drove -- somewhat accidentally -- along a smaller road through fields of vines that were absolutely dripping with grapes. As the fields gave way to buildings and we entered a little town, there along the side of the road was a queue of tractors as the local farmers brought their crops in to the local caveau... it was so much like a line-up of trucks at the grain terminal that I was smitten with homesickness for harvest-time in Saskatchewan and hollered at Mitch to turn around. Such fun -- we got to watch the loads of purple grapes as they were dumped out of little carts and into a hopper below, where the weighed them the sent them through a machine that separated the fruit from the stems. These were then spit up onto a conveyer and dropped out into a skip outside. The grapes meanwhile we sent through a crusher and then, as we watched, the juice poured out into a large vat just below where we were standing. We watched several loads come in and could start to notice the difference in the quality of the grapes by the quantity of liquid they produced. And it smelled so good!! Meanwhile, the farmers stood around gossiping (just like at home) as the purple-handed employees of the caveau weighed and calculated, then handed over a chit of paper detailing the amount of that dump, before moving on to the next farmer.
Besides the obvious language difference, these guys had the same air that I suspect farmers the world over must have. I suspect that another difference between these guys and their Canadian counterparts would emerge at mealtime... lunch here entails a baguette (firmly tucked in the armpit!), and a beverage that would not be the pilsner you might expect at home!!!

Fun fact: Henry the 8th had an army march all the way to within 50 miles of Paris -- only to discover that they had run out of beer and that the only beverage they could procure locally was wine!! The army revolted and actually turned around and went home!! Personally, I'm with the French on this debate!

Where our Gypsying has taken us...

Wow... consider this the long letter of catch up I owe so many of you...

We're about ten weeks into our voyage and it has taken all of them to even begin to feel on top of things at home -- there is still a lot to look after from afar, but it's getting more organised. And we were both so exhausted when we left that we certainly weren't functioning very efficiently!! Yesterday was the first day that really felt like a holiday!!! We're in a great campsite in the South of France, just outside of Bezier and right in the Mediterranean. It would be an absolute zoo during the high season -- and would cost 5 to 6 times more than what we are paying right now -- but it's the end of the season so it's pretty much deserted. Fortunately, no one told the weather that the tourist season is over; we had a glorious day of about 28 degrees and sun yesterday, and another beautiful sunny sky is glowing above me this morning as I type. The campsite comes complete with easy and cheap internet access, clean bathrooms (!!), free archery and tennis, five swimming pools, two water slides -- and access to a gloriously wide and pristine stretch of sandy beach along the Mediterranean. We staggered in here three days ago, agog with weeks of major travel, museums, food, and six different languages. We haven't left the campground since -- I don't want to see ANYTHING more complicated than a beach until we assimilate some of the adventures we've crmmed into the last couple of months!!

After our wet adventures in Wales -- which we barely penetrated, but really loved -- we made our way north to Scotland. We ended up camping in a little town named Dollar (!), which was in Perthshire, just across the Bay and a bit north east of Edinburgh. The little towns of Scotland are so lovely -- all chiselled out of rock, they seem -- and Dollar was no exception. We spent our time in Scotland exploring the castles in the region... the kids' favorite being Doune Castle, where Monty Python shot "The Holy Grail". They did learn a lot about Mary Queen of Scots, and now certainly know more about the monarchy of both Scotland and England than I ever did. It is fascinating how they consistently prefer the little, less developed but more 'hands-on' ruined castles than the huge ones like the Tower of London or Edinburgh Castle. The day we were at Edinburgh the guards I talked to figured they'd only had about 14,000 people through that day -- it was a bit slow, they reckoned!! When it is that crowded it's pretty hard to get the sense of a place. My favorite time in Scotland was simply when we went to church in Dollar. The congregation was so lovely and welcoming -- the kids trooped out for Sunday school just like at home, but for once I got to stay and listen to a sermon -- which was a good one. We found out later that the minister was dying of cancer... maybe that was what made her words about reaching out to the less fortunate so poignant.

We were reluctant to leave Scotland, but we had to get to my conference in Lugano, so we beetled back down to Hertfordshire on the 7th of August (9 hour drive!), spent a night in the haven of our friend's house (yeah -- dry beds!), and then found ourselves on the 6:30 am flight out of Luton to Milan. We left Hannah's house before 4:00, and still barely made our plane -- the security was ridiculous, and our cheapy flight was WAY out at the furthest end of the airport. We actually ran for 15 minutes (pant, pant) and at 6:20 as we were pelting up to our gate, the grumpy flight attendant was paging "all remaining passengers" to inform us that our luggage was about to be removed from the plane!! She was looking us in the eye as she said this -- and we were still ten minutes early. Apparently Ryanair departure times indicate when the plane is actually leaving the ground, as opposed to when it leaves the gate!

Anyhow, we arrived in Milan but only spent long enough to pick up our car -- which we have till December -- then drove up to Lugano, Switzerland, where I had a week long Alexander Technique conference. The conference was excellent -- especially the daily lectures from the world's leading neurologists and brain scientists -- but it was still work, and my enjoyment was hampered by the fact that so many nights in wet, rainy weather brewed up a nasty cold. And we were disappointed to find the Swiss quite arrogant and miserable, as a whole... we had been entertaining warm fuzzy thoughts of Heidi and the Grandfather, so this was a bit of a shock. As we were leaving Switzerland on our way to Germany, we did detour through 'Heidi-land' and had a picnic in a pasture full of wildflowers, under Joanna Spyri's mountain at Maienfeld, so that made Cachell very happy.

It was such a relief to get to Berlin... mostly the dear and familiar faces of our friends the Hannusches. They had supper waiting for us, and then Lisa came with us so we could spend the first night together at the apartment they had kitted out for us. (It is owned by Torsten's company -- we were very lucky!) We absolutely loved Berlin -- although maybe we would have loved anywhere the Hannusches were. It was so fascinating to see the city through the eyes of people who live there; and as we stayed in East Berlin and spent time with their extended family in what would have been East Germany, it was even more interesting. I will detail more another time... but we had two fantastic weeks!!

On Sept. 1st we left Berlin to accompany Lisa to Aachen, where she is starting University. We were going mostly to be with Lisa, so we were happily surprised to find that it's an absolutely beautiful little town with some big history. Charlemange was crowned at the Aachen Dome (as they call the Cathedral) sometime back about 1000 AD, and it was the site of 35 subsequent coronations. The church has also become a major place of pilgramage, as importaant as the Wailing wall or Lourdes, as it reputedly houses some major Christian relics: the swaddling clothes that Jesus was wrapped in and then laid in a manger, as well as the loin cloth he wore at his crucifixtion. And because of the town's location at the South-East edge of Germany, we were able to take a leisurely afternoon (when it was -- of course -- raining) to drive into both Belgium and the Netherlands, and still be back in time to meet Lisa for supper! We stopped at an American War Cemetary in Holland; Mitch and I visited a Canadian cemetary the last time we were over and found the grave of his Great Uncle Alan, so although we couldn't get there this was an excellent opportunity to show the children another face of the destruction the World Wars caused. Row after row after row of pure white crosses against a sad grey day... it was very poignant.

And then there was no time to catch our breathe as we said tearful 'goodbyes' to Lisa and were off to Paris. What a tremendous place. Someday, Mitch and I are coming back to live in Paris for a while (though as we talked about this in the car Cachell exclaimed in horror that we couldn't possibly, because then she'd have no one to help her with her ten children...!!!). I have mixed feelings about the fact that our first day in the area we spent going to Paris Disneyland. The children absolutely loved it, and fortunately (!) it was yet another drizzy, miserable day, so the crowds were not too bad at all. We covered most rides, and hit our favourites twice... Caelan can't wait to be an adult and go back for as long as he likes. It was a good family day -- but ... we missed a day in Paris. And then we crammed all the sights we could into the next three days: The Eiffel Tower (we went all the way to the top -- yikes!!); the Louvre for free on Sunday morning, the Champs d'Elysses and the Arc de Triomph (we drove around it along with about nine unmarked lanes of crazy Parisiens, all jockeying for position! ), Notre Dame, Ile de la Cite, Montmartre -- it's such a beautiful city. The kids were pretty much overwhelmed...

We spent as long as we could in Paris before we had to drive down to Spain to meet friends for Sept 9th -- this meant a 1000 km drive in one day. It had taken us over ten hours to drive the 500 km from Berlin to Aachen because the traffic was so bad, so we were anticipating the worst -- especially getting out of Paris. We were up before the birds, packed up the tent in the dark, and had smooth sailing out of the city and in fact, all the way to Spain. Of course, the Spanish have at least 6 sets of numbers for every road, so navigating the lesser highways out to Helen's was a bit tricky. But the Costa Brava makes up for any inconveniences in arriving by being simply spectacular -- from the scenery to the history to the people. It was just an amazing place to be. Of course, Helen and her daughter Emma welcomed us so warmly and did so much for us that we are undoubtedly biased... but we had so much fun. Sept. 11th is Catalan National day, and the Spanish have a very good way of dealing with holidays: they 'bridge' the other days of the week until the weekend so that the 'day' became an almost week-long party. The pinnacle of celebration happened as a nearby town hosted "Medival Days" and the whole town pitched in and participated. It was incredible -- everyone dressed up, there were sword fights and ancient music concerts and an actual jousting tournamnet. Needless to say, our young knights and lady were delighted with the whole thing -- we all were. And there is something about the laid-back Spanish way of life that really got the kid's involved -- they ate it all up, from the open air concerts to the Salvador Dali Museum (it was actually the house he built for his wife in al old castle -- pretty cool.

We were sorry to say goodbye to Spain and Helen and Emma... but by the time we were finished there we were all at the brink of bursting with so much in the way of new thoughts and feelings and sights and sounds and tastes -- whew!!! It was a bit like this note -- a lot of info in a short space. We've spent three days now here in France, just catching up on school work, unfinished business at home, and 'down time'. It's a particualrly nice place to chill out, this South of France!! We're going to stay here till the end of the month when the campground closes down, and then venture along the coast, maybe venturing a bit inland when we get to Provence. We're planning to rent a little apartment in a farmhouse in Tuscany around Oct. 10th... then we'll make our way to the East Coast of Italy and hop a ferry to Greece... we have no fixed plans now except to be on the cruise ship north of Rome on December 5th.

I'm off to find the gang at the pool... I'll write more soon.




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