2019 Nice with Carter

Nice with Carter Three Days Around the Cote d’Azur

A journal kept by Susan Hanes during three days with Carter Hanes in Nice, June 12-17, 2019. Photos by Susan Hanes, c. 2019

Nice with Carter Three Days Around the Cote d’Azur June 12—June 17, 2019

The opportunity to meet Jen and Carter in Nice was too good to pass up when I learned that they were going to be there at the time that I was scheduled to head home from a long-planned trip to Germany. After adjusting plans and flights, I arranged a detour to Nice by way of Frankfurt to spend time with Carter while Jen attended a work-related conference. We would share a room at the famous Beau Rivage, first of the exclusive seaside hotels in Nice. In 1891 Anton Chekhov stayed there.

And in 1917, Matisse took a room at the Beau Rivage where he painted the view from his window, the first of many landscapes during his forty years on the Cote d’Azur.

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Wednesday, June 12

to Nice, France

After Dagmar and Klaus dropped me off at Tegel Airport in Berlin, I looked forward to a couple of pleasant hours, sipping wine and checking out the Duty Free shops after clearing security. Thus, I was perplexed to discover that since each gate had its own security line, there was nothing but a few hard chairs and a lone snack stand once I went through. What was I going to do for the next two hours? Determined to make the best of it, I grabbed one of the few remaining seats and settled in. I soon discovered, however, that waiting was not going to be the problem. The departure gate was changed twice. The first was next to the original gate. But the second change was from A7 to B 20, which meant a sprint by all the passengers to the new location followed by another trip through security. Once everyone had been cleared, we were shuffled onto busses. The delay resulted in our plane departing for Frankfurt at the same time that my flight was scheduled from Frankfurt to Nice. The next flight from Frankfurt was not until 9:30 p.m. with scheduled arrival in Nice around midnight. So, I did get my wine and a chance to peruse the shops after all—but in Frankfurt. Once we landed in Nice, I found a taxi to take me to the hotel. Before my arrival, Jen and Carter had been able to get tickets to see France beat Norway in the Women’s World Cup so were up late themselves. Carter’s being relegated to sleeping in a nook below the window did not help. After traveling all day, I decided to take a quick shower when I got in. Finding the floor treacherously slippery, I braced my foot over the drain, not realizing that I was causing the water to pour out onto the bathroom. By the time I noticed what was happening, it was a good three inches deep. Fearing the flood was going to cause the ceiling below to collapse, I spent nearly an hour soaking up the mess with the mat and wringing it out in the shower. It was 2:00 a.m. by the time I collapsed into bed myself.

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Thursday, June 13 Jen had to leave early for work and Carter and I slept in. It was nearly noon when we left the hotel. We found an outside table at Pain & Cie, a pleasant cafÊ nearby, where we ordered two Elvis specials just as the midday cannon fired (a tradition introduced in 1861 by Englishman Thomas Coventry). At 2:00, we arrived at Kult, an edgy salon where Carter and Jen had made an appointment for him to get a haircut. When the stylist began by shaving nearly all the hair from the back of Carter’s head, we stared wide-eyed at each other in the mirror. But his Euro style turned out really well and he was pleased with the results. After a stop for gelato, we walked the Promenade des Anglais along the seafront, commenting on how rocky it was. Nevertheless, the beach was filled with sunbathers, and we saw that many of them were laying out on the bare stones. We took the little sightseeing train around Vieux Nice and along the harbor. Below Castle Hill, we watched as young men dared each other to jump from the rocks into the sea. We returned to the gelato shop and were both a little embarrassed that the same man was behind the counter. Later we had a leisurely al fresco dinner at Tapenade in Vieux Nice where Carter ordered duck and I enjoyed fresh trout.

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Friday, June 14 The weather was strange this morning, as a hot dry wind (Le Libeccio?) that began as a strong breeze during breakfast at the Irish Pub (a mistake, we both agreed) quickly intensified and became unpleasant. We decided that we would escape to the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art (MAMAC). The extensive collections in this striking museum feature works from the French and American Avant-Garde art movements. In the early 1960s, Nice was the cradle of French Nouveau Réalisme, a European form of American Pop Art that offered a new way to perceive what is real.

Founded by painter Yves Klein (1928-1962) and art critic Pierre Restany (1930-2003), the movement’s members worked in a variety of forms, including painting, collage, assemblage, and installations.

Besides Klein, its members included Niki de Saint Phalle (1930-2002) and Christo (1935- ) whose works comprise a significant part of the museum’s permanent collection. Although the movement dissolved in 1970, it continued to influence the work of contemporary artists for many years afterwards. Carter and I strolled through colorful galleries filled with paintings, video clips, and strange installations.

One room was devoted entirely to Klein’s blue monochrome works.

In another, Niki de Saint Phalle’s colorful sculptural female figures known as “Nanas” were displayed. The Devil in the Body: When Op Art Electrifies Cinema was a special exhibition that was part of the Nice 2019 Biennale. It featured clips from disturbing films including Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960) that were contrasted against frivolous examples of Op Art paintings and kinetic pieces, creating a feeling of ominous threat. Braving the winds, we climbed the stairs to the rooftop and made our way around the four terraces with views of the orangeroofed city below.

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Yves Klein (1928-1962)

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Niki de Saint Phalle (1930-2002)

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We left the museum, winding through the photogenic back streets of old Nice, stopping for a glimpse inside the Baroque St-Martin-St-Augustin Church—and another gelato—as we headed back to the hotel. Since Jen had completed her duties for the evening, she was able to join us for dinner and the three of us walked to Pure & V, tucked away on Rue Bottero in a quiet part of the city. It had been recommended to Jen by one of her doctor colleagues. There was no menu, allowing Vanessa, the owner, to purchase the freshest ingredients available each day. We enjoyed a sixcourse tasting menu featuring fish with imaginative combinations incorporating nettles, mushrooms, cherries, peas, and asparagus. The air felt fresh and cool as we walked back to our hotel, and the bars and restaurants we passed were filled with lively groups out celebrating or following the women’s soccer on strategically placed TVs.

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Saturday, June 15

Carter promised me that he would be up and ready for our daylong tour of Cannes and Provence and he was as good as his word. We were at the front door of the hotel when the van from Tour Azur rolled up promptly at 9:00. There were only six participants in a vehicle large enough for several more; all were from the US. Rolf was our driver. He told us that he was Italian and French, but then he said he was German; we never quite figured it out. Nonetheless, he was pleasant and knowledgeable and a good driver. As we headed out of town towards Cannes, Rolf pointed out a series of apartment buildings that resembled the cruise ships that glide past them. In less than half an hour, we reached the harbor at Cannes. Rolf gave us 45 minutes to stroll along the elegant seaside Boulevard de la Croisette, bordered by palms, grand hotels, and chic boutiques. We saw the 1982 Palace of Festivals and Conferences that is the venue of the Cannes Film Festival and looked for the handprints of famous actors and directors scattered around the area.

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Rolf was waiting for us at the harbor and we began our drive into the hills along curving lanes that hugged walled estates; touches of bright bougainvillea hinted of lush gardens within. Thirty minutes later we reached Grasse, the perfume capital of France, located at the foot of a high plateau. Grasse began as a leather manufacturing town when ladies’ gloves became fashionable in the 16th century.

At that time, there was no way to cure the smell of the leather, which eventually lead to the emergence of perfumeries in the 18th century that would produce essences to mask the odor of the skins. We were given a tour of Fragonard, established in 1782 and one of the oldest perfume makers in France. Our guide showed us the factory’s state of the art lab and explained that perfume is distilled in a manner similar to whiskey. She told us how scents are blended by a special perfumer known as Le Nez (The Nose). This artist must be adept at portraying moods and emotions through the combining of essential oils such as lavender, citrus, and rose. After our tour, the six of were seated in a special “smelling room” where we inhaled a series of subtle scents. We learned that eau de cologne is meant to last about two hours; eau de parfum, 4-6 hours; and parfum, up to 24 hours.

Carter and I had difficulty deciding what we liked best but finally picked out scents that we thought his mom and dad would like.

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Rolf drove a further 15 km to Gourdon. Nicknamed “Eagle’s Nest,” this town of 426 is perched on a rocky spur above the River Loup. Its medieval streets are lined with craft workshops and small cafes. As we climbed out, Rolf told us about Au Vieux Four, a restaurant that he said would have had a Michelin star if it had been in Nice. Carter and I decided to go there and see if we could be seated. We were fortunate that we could. With stone walls, whitewashed beamed ceilings, and colorful mismatched napkins, the place was delightfully cozy. As I sat there, enjoying fresh tuna with local vegetables and a frosty glass of wine, smiling at my grandson, I realized that this was a moment I would long remember.

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Gourdon

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Our group began the loop south again, making a final stop in St-Paul de Vence. Rolf dropped us off near the Place des Jeux de Boules, where the likes of actor Yves Montand (1921-1991) were regular players of the popular French bowling game. The cobbled main street runs the length of the fortified town with the arcaded 16th and 17th century buildings now housing art galleries and antique shops. In the 1920s, the town was rediscovered by a number of well-known painters who would socialize at the legendary hotel, La Colombe d’Or. Over the years, such names as Picasso, Calder, and Miro came to be associated with it. At the far end of the town, we found the cemetery, clustered near a 16th century chapel.

Marc Chagall is buried there, his tomb covered with small stones and coins left by visitors. Someone had placed a large terracotta heart in the middle, which of course, I had to photograph. Chagall lived in St-Paul from 1966 to 1985, painting landscapes that featured the village and its ramparts. It was nearing 4:30 as we headed back to Nice, arriving at the hotel a little after 5:00.

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We met Jen for dinner, pulling a couple of café tables together at Brasserie Les Ponchettes and sharing drinks, salads, and socca, the chickpea flour flatbread that is a popular street food in Nice. Later we were joined by Jen’s colleague, Nicola Quilter, and her mother and a friend. Carter eventually escaped to the room and the ladies relaxed over their wine, laughing and talking and watching the activity along Place Charles Félix well into the evening.

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Sunday, June 16 Today was a traveling day for us all as Carter and Jen left for the station and their train to Avignon. I followed soon after, taking a taxi back to the airport for the start of my trip home. My Aer Lingus flight took off at 3:30 and landed at Dublin two hours later. I am staying at the Carlton Airport Hotel, conveniently positioning me for an early flight back to Chicago in the morning. It is not always the case that detours will work out, but I will always look back happily on my bonus time in Nice with Carter and Jen.

* *Carter, perhaps this should be the motto for all of our travels.

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A journal kept by Susan Hanes during three days with Carter Hanes in Nice, June 12-17, 2019. Photos by Susan Hanes, c. 2019 50

Made especially for Carter Hanes by his grandmother Susan Hanes