Nope

We get up fairly early to get on the road. We are headed for Saint Remy de Provence for the french segment of the trip.

I take a quick walk while the others are eating breakfast to bid farewell to Tony and get one last dose of violin making inspiration.

We decide it is probably best if I don’t try to bring the car up to the hotel this time and drag our bags down to the parking ramp. Yes … this is the street of cafes that welcomed us on our arrival. “It’s possible.”

In order to get out of the parking ramp you have to take the ticket you got when you entered, stick it in a machine in the stairwell, pay your fee to the machine which then gives you back your ticket marked paid. You then have 10 minutes to get to your car, load your crap in the back, convince Sean the GPS that you really do want to go to France and get to the exit gate. The problem is that this takes precisely 11.5 minutes more or less. So, when you stick your ticket in the exit gate, it tells you that you owe another 1.70 euros. Since there is no place to put money or credit cards in the exit gate, ones only option is to back down the exit ramp, park crooked in the nearest handicap spot, send a delegate of your party to negotiate with the attendant in the parking ramp Office of Issues Related to Ignorant Tourists. 1.70 Euros later we’re paroled. We’ve been visiting Italy for 17 years… there always seems to be something we haven’t encountered before.

Getting to the Autostrada is more or less uneventful. Driving on the Autostrada is more or less uneventful. It still is a national holiday weekend though so there is a fair amount of traffic. Not really a problem until we get to the first congestion charge station. (toll booth). Cars are backed up 20 deep trying to figure out which lanes are cash, ‘Telepass’, ViaCard or Go directly to jail, do not pass go…

We get in a cash lane and take a nap.

As we get to the booth it seems simple enough. The toll is 5.20 euros. It takes the 5 euro note like it’s starving… but the .20 euro cent coin is a nope… two 10 cent coins? Nope… a 50 cent coin? Nope… the 20 cent coin again? again? again? Nope nope nope. Horns honking behind us? Yep. Throw in a 1 euro coin… wait for it… wait for it… gods be praised it took it! The hell with the change go go go!

Lunch at an Italian institution… the AutoGrill. I know, AutoGrill is all over the world and has even made it to the US, but it is an Italian company and a quintessential part of traveling the highways of Italy. Panini and coffee and fill the tank… oh, and some cookies for the car… and some fizzy water. We confused the barista by taking the cups of frothed milk before she was able to put the espresso in them, (sure is weak coffee says Lynn…) then we get a serious malocchio from the gas station attendant when Jack starts pumping his own gas at the gas station… but hey, nobody got hurt so we call it a win (and, we’re all too old to be embarrassed so … whatever).

About $50 in tolls and 7 hours after we depart Cremona we arrive at Le Petit Mas, outside of Saint Remy, Provence, France. Our house for the week. We have put exactly 1000 miles on the car since we left the garage in Rome.

Dinner is in town as we have nothing in the house and we are too tired to go to the grocery tonight. We wander aimlessly and pick L’Aile ou La Cuisse Bistro. (the wing or the thigh) It had the best looking pastries in the front window.

In a stark contrast to the Italian restaurant experience, where they expect you to spend the entire evening at your table, we note the hustley bustley -ness of the wait staff. It is obvious that they expect to seat more than one party at each table over the course of the evening. Our waitress is a charming and funny young lady who puts up with our nonsense and answers our dopey questions with a smile.

Fois gras, beef cheeks in wine sauce, chocolate and raspberries… and ‘physalis’ (a strange little cross between a tomato and a Japanese lantern plant).

Bonjour!