Draw a line about 4500 miles east and a little north of Kentucky, and you’ll end up in France. Or get on a series of airplanes and tick off 18 hours and you’ll end up in Marseille.
We are in southern France in the PACA region – Provence Alpes Côte d’Azur. Our loving family met us at the airport and promptly whisked us downtown for a splendid lunch at an outdoor cafe. Tim need a bit of help to translate the menu, and ended up with a grilled sausage the size of a stove pipe.
Marseille is a busy shipping port, and the downtown district was buzzing with folks on lunch break. There were scores of scooters lined up, a popular mode of transport, and everyone looked fit and thin. There’s a noticeable absence of obesity here, even though the meals served are huge.
Driving north from Marseille, deeper into the Provence countryside, we were struck by the arid climate. It’s like the high desert of the western states with scrub brush and gnarly pines, and white cliffs looming in the distance. Houses here are stucco topped with red roof tiles, and windows are open-air. But the highways and traffic look familiar, pretty much just like the US.
We’ll let the jet lag slough off tonite, and try to get onto local time tomorrow (6 hours ahead of eastern time zone.)