The Events of Sunday, March 27, 2011

                Two years ago, we did not own a GPS unit. We used maps and internet directions to reach our destinations. Then, in preparation for this trip, we purchased a Garmin nüvi GPS unit, preprogrammed with maps of North America and Europe. We came to rely on it during our travels in the U.S. Our vehicle here in Europe comes with a built-in GPS (a TomTom), but I had read warnings from other users that it was difficult to operate and only included maps of France. Wrong on both counts, I would say. In addition to much better sound quality, the built-in GPS has features that our Garmin lacks – and vice versa. So now we use both units to navigate our way through these strange roads. Sometimes they agree on the recommended route; other times they disagree and we must choose which path to follow.

                We drove most of the day today. Our Garmin reported no trouble, but the TomTom warned us that our road would be closed at one point and asked if we would like to re-route. That seemed prudent, so we replied “yes”. Now, we will never know whether or not there was a closure on the highway. I rather doubt it, since there were no road signs to indicate anything about it. But that thirty minute detour was the best part of the route. I relished the pleasure of driving our little “sports van” on these roads.  We went up into the coastal hills, admiring the thick green foliage, then we corkscrewed back down toward the pretty Mediterranean coastline.

                We stopped for lunch at Italy’s version of a rest stop (fuel station, café, and restrooms) and pulled out our picnic lunch. That’s when we discovered why our salami was so inexpensive. There are many varieties of rock on earth that are softer than that salami! The outer rind was tough and brittle, so it did not peel off, it splintered. Even slicing the meat with our brand new Victorinox knife required quite a bit of muscle. But our labor was rewarded: that salami tasted great and it served as a good complement to our cheese, crackers, and Granny Smith apples.

                Pam took the next driving shift, and she did not enjoy herself. She had to handle rainy weather, construction diversions, and our transition into France (new signage, new toll collection mechanisms, new language). The rest of us listened and sang along with our iPod playlist of worship songs, as we attempted to honor this as the Lord’s Day. Our worship time included some of our favorite selections from the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir and Keith Green.

                It was about six o’clock when we arrived at our lodging in Aubagne. Our host, Jean Beddouri, greeted us and showed us the apartment. The building itself, he explained, is over 300 years old. His family lives on the north half, and they rent out the south half. He oriented us very thoroughly to the operation of the doors, the washer, the kitchen appliances, the heat, the switches, the windows, the ladder up to the double loft, the toilet, the shutters, etc. Strangely, we saw no sheets, no towels, and very little toilet paper. Jean explained to us that in France, guests typically provide these amenities, but he said he would bring some sheets and towels for us.

                Indeed, not only sheets and towels, but also his family! He introduced us to his son Clément (15), who intends to study computer engineering (like his dad). A few minutes later we met his daughter Margot (11), who swims competitively, though she currently suffers from an injured shoulder—just like Caitlin did in her last two seasons. Finally, his wife Evelyn, an accountant and chauffeur of the family minivan, brought two cans of potato chips and four bottles of beverages. We spent the next hour or so getting to know one another. What a special privilege it is to spend time with these kind people, in their own home (sort of), and get to know them. Language was a hurdle to our communication, but not an insurmountable one. When their English and our French were insufficient, we turned to our new friend Google Translate (http://translate.google.com). They answered many of our questions about this area of Provence and its culture. For our part, they are avid travelers and had many good questions about our travels, our jobs, and our schooling.

                They excused themselves at about 9:30, since it was a school night and they had not yet had dinner(!). We had already eaten so we scurried around our new home trying to discern which sheets and which blankets would fit on which beds. Pillows were the trickiest part: the two on my bed were flat, like decorative sofa pillows. “Necessity, who is the mother of invention” (Plato) prevailed: I found a long skinny pillow-like object that, coiled up into a pillowcase, formed an almost rectangular shape for Pam. And for myself, I folded a quilt into eighths, which formed a pillow-like bundle for the other pillowcase. They are nothing to look at, but after our big day of transitions, these improvised pillows held up our heads just fine.