Cote d'Azur

Tony: After eight days of low stress climbing and a bit of sightseeing in Provence, it was time to clean ourselves up, put on our polo shirts, white cotton pants and boat shoes and head for a long weekend the French Riviera. I was really looking forward to it; six of my best friends from my previous two year Europe stint were flying in to meet us, as well as Julie’s best friend Deena.  I have to admit, it had the potential to be awkward as I hadn’t seen them for as long as seven years in some cases, but the conversation flowed as easily as the vodka and the weekend was awesome.  We spent our time hanging out on the beaches in Nice, and making the most of the restaurants with all you can eat mussels (five bowls Mehmet?) and free drinks in exchange for kisses from the waiter (Not me, I’d rather pay for mine, the guy had a pony tail). Good times.

I tried to stall everyone and make them miss their flights so they could stay and hang out with us, but sadly jobs, husbands etc thwarted me. Julie and me then did a bit of a tour of the coast; we paid 9 Euros for a fancy Bicardi Breezer type thing in St Tropez, got stuck in traffic in Cannes, almost drove off the road gawking at the scenery, and ended up in Cassis, a perfect little medieval town/fishing village. The attraction here, aside from the scenery, was the climbing in the Calanque (Mediterranean Fiords), with it’s perfect 200 metre bright white limestone cliffs above perfect turquoise water. The best climb of the trip so far was an exposed four pitch 5c climb above the Calanque of En Vau.

Now we’re in Gorge du Tarn, a very different but equally picture perfect climbing area set beside a river. No easy climbing here, so we’ll have to toughen up….

Julie and Haruko. And me, hiding behind a beard. Gelati was a feature of the Cote d'Azur. Especially this place, Finocchio. That literally means Fennal, but I think it's a gag, as it has another slang meaning in Italian...

Drinking Vokda on the beach. Nina, Haruko, Joaquim, Eva and Mehmet.

Me, Julie and Deena, above Nice.

(Thanks Laszlo for the photos, with the Paparazzi around I kept leaving my camera at the hotel!)

Wild Man of Valleee Heureuse

JULIE: Figured since this was a joint honeymoon blog it was time to hear from the fairer (though somewhat more tanned) of the couple.

Tony and I have been climbing lots, with me vacillating between strong and bold (for the climbers - mainly on the closely bolted 11s) and nervous (on the run-outs on dubious rock).  I'd say more of the latter.  I'd best post this quickly to avoid Tony giving me a lecture about what "Arno would say" (another climbing ref, sorry.).

On the plus side, everything here smells nice.  "Fines herbes de Provence" which are a delicious addition to the local French food, it turns out, actually grow in Provence - everywhere.  Halfway up a cliff I often find a tuft of thyme or honey-scented rosemary. 


Sunday night Tony and I went to a lovely local restaurant.  He's now sporting a beard and hair that mostly sticks straight up and out, especially when he's tired.  Looks like a cross between the mad professor from back to the future and the Missing Link.  I mentioned this only for him to begin ranting about climbing trees and eating worms and making a variety of missing link noises I can't describe.  The waitress then came and asked about Australian food - do we eat grubs, she asked.  I struggled to maintain composure.

Scene set.

Monday: before siesta Tony purchases hairdressing scissors and a comb. A major investment at 10 euros, given an actual haircut was probably only 15.  We take over another campsite and me with evil glint in eye, tell him I've every interest in doing this terribly.
"But I've got pride" says Tony.
"You may not after this haircut"
"Ah bella", he says. "You've never drawn anything but you're still sure you can.  You're too proud to do anything badly.".

And that, is a honeymoon reference.  Tony somehow understands me very, very, well. 

And to keep you amused, here are some random facts about France:

• they sell snail shells in the supermarket
• the snails they eat are sold separately in tins
• they have doggie showers in the campsite; and
• fleuve (pron. flerv) means River.  Saying this word makes Tony chuckle.

Wanted to put up a climbing pic, but it's not easy to take photos while belaying, so this is the closest I have. It's Julie reading a climbing guide, perched up on one side of the valley, looking at the cliffs on the opposite side. In the valley below is our campsite. We've been mostly climbing on the leftmost crag in the photo for the first half of the day (cause it's five minutes walk from the tent) then coming up to the cliff behind the camera in the afternoon. 

Paris to Provence, thanks to Bertrand

TONY: I would have started this blog a week or two ago, but thinking of a name for a blog that's not already taken by someone else isn't easy.
A few things I've noticed so far: France is great, baguettes are great, speaking French is easy, reading French is hard.
We spent a week in Paris in a great little top floor apartment in Montmarte and spent most of our time cycling around to the touristy sights (e.g. Louvre, Eiffel Tower etc) and the not so touristy sights (e.g. hipster art show in a run down turret come artists squat). We then picked up our gutless but charmingly funny colored car and drove south through the stunning Loire Valley, which reminded me a bit of the English countryside with its rivers, little stone walls and quaint little shops, except there were huge castles everywhere.
We eventually got down to Orgon, in southern France (near Avignon), where we are now camped in a valley surrounded by polished limestone cliffs. Two days climbing so far, getting used to the rock and avoiding the midday heat. I think I can handle this for a few months.....

P.S I'm not sure why we named the car Bertrand, other than it's a funny name to shout in a bad French accent when you need the car to do something it doesn't want to do. Like accelerate.

Julie in Paris, with a Baguette. We're eating a lot of baguettes. They even deliver them to our campsite every day.

We mostly used the bikeshare bikes to get around Paris.

At a Restaurant near Notre Dame, eating a three course menu. We ALWAYS eat three course menus

One of the many Chateaux in the Loire Valley, and some grapes which will one day become fairly  tasty but very cheap wine