by David McGuffin | May 29, 2008 | Uncategorized
The other day, I took a few people to San Remo. As soon as I drove into the parking lot, I knew we would be in trouble with the vendors. In recent years, major European tourist destinations have been flooded with black men with sacks (mostly from Senegal) whose sole job in life is to make some money for themselves (and their bosses on up the chain of command) by selling fake purses, watches, and other “designer” items. There were five or six such vendors with blue plastic sacks slung over their shoulders like Santa Claus, waiting to pounce on us as soon as our car doors were open. Ha, I fooled them by pulling through the parking spot and choosing one at the far end of the lot.
My sneaky ploy didn’t fend them off for long. They attacked as we were making our way to the parking exit on foot. Like sharks attracted to a bloodied swimmer, the men with sacks approached the most vulnerable of the group. Brenda, with a real Burberry bag slung over her shoulder, was the easiest target. She had proven to be what you would call a “shop-a-holic” over the last two days. When walking down the street, it was as if she had a magnet inside that drew her to anything requiring a purchase. Kid’s clothes, handbags, sandals, designer clothing, or even a hair salon were not to be passed by without a look inside to see what was available. So it was no surprise that when approached by the men with sacks, Brenda went to them with open arms, eyes, and pocketbook. I still thought there was a chance to save us, so I hurried along telling those who were not captured to look the other way and ignore these vendors of worthless crap. But no, we all had to stop and watch as Brenda checked out the workmanship of knock-off Gucci and Prada handbags. I was in shock when she said she did not want one and called each item a piece of crap. I helped my gang through the gauntlet and to the safety of the parking lot retaining wall. We had a close call, but remained unscathed.
Walking into the town center, I was on the lookout for a simple place to have lunch. Down a small passageway, I located a small pizzeria that looked like it would fit the bill. Now I don’t even remember the name, but it had a few tables outside, an ancient cash register sitting in the bar inside, and a rather rotund and happy Mamma who was doing the cooking in the kitchen. As soon as we sat down, before even the waiter had a chance to speak to us, we were once again attacked by more men with sacks! Where did they come from? I do not know, but within only a moment these “vendors of worthless crap” appeared from several directions. Here we were trying to place our order for pizza, and amongst it all we had forearms thrust at us wearing brightly colored Rolex watches. It was all I could handle trying to interpret the pizza menu, ordering in Italian, and fending off the men with sacks. Brenda looked longingly at one of the guys who had a D&G belt and that was all it took. In swooped two more with the same belt in different colors. Brenda began rummaging around in her purse and pulled out a little bottle of hand sanitizer. The pesky vendors thought she was going for her money and this spurred them on even more.
Thinking back on it now it is a funny story. But at the moment I was getting angry. Normally after ten times of telling these vendors of worthless crap to beat it, they’ll get the message and move on. But I was facing a losing battle. On the one hand Brenda wanted to order her pizza and eat, yet she was drawn to the worthless crap. I’ve never seen anything like it! We did get some relief once our pizzas arrived. The vendors honed in on another unsuspecting family who had just sat down to order.
About midway through our meal it began to rain. That was ok because we were protected by an awning and roof overhang. Then to my disbelief, more men with sacks appeared out of the back alleys like buzzards attacking a dying animal. Now they were brandishing every style and color of umbrella imaginable. This was too hard to ignore. My dining companions suddenly turned into mad men in need of an umbrella. To heck with their pizza, they had left their protective rain gear back in the hotel room. I gave up, ate my pizza, and let my friends deal with the ever-present vendors of worthless crap.
SPECIAL NOTE:
In Italy, these vendors of worthless crap are known as vu cumpra. It is apparently a reference to the vendor’s grammatically incorrect interpretation of the phrase “Do you want to buy?”
A few years ago, the Italian government decided to crack down on this illegal activity. But instead of targeting the actual vendors and their mafia suppliers, the new law punishes those who purchase fake-designer merchandise. This new law makes buyers of counterfeit goods liable for fines of €3333 to €10000, and some tourists actually have been fined! A Reuters news story from August 2005 quoted the deputy mayor of Venice as stating, “Our fight against the illegal street trade is untiring.” HA, give me a break! Have you ever seen one of those men with sacks in handcuffs? But I guess the fact remains that some foreign tourists have already been nabbed and whacked with huge fines.
To further complicate matters, the Italian Supreme Court ruled in 2000 that counterfeiting isn’t a crime unless the buyer thinks the counterfeited item is the real thing. But I think this is highly unlikely given the fact that these vendors sell their goods out of sacks and towels spread out on the pavement in tourist areas. The article went on to say that Italy’s annual sales of fake goods is estimated at four to six billion euros. The authorities are under growing international pressure to bring counterfeiting and piracy under control. Hence, the new “law” to crackdown on those who purchase the fake goods.
WHAT DO YOU THINK? Have you ever bought stuff from one of these vendors? If so, did the product look and feel real? Did you feel you got a good value?
-David
by David McGuffin | May 16, 2008 | Adventures in Tour Guiding, Culture & Customs
It’s not often that I get fooled, but this morning I was completely caught off guard by a gypsy mother and her child.
It all began as five of us were sitting at our hotel having breakfast. We’d just awoken from a comfortable night’s sleep and warm shower, and had a big breakfast to boot. While finishing our coffee, my friends Brenda and Diane were looking out the window and noticed a gypsy woman with her small child across the street. She, like most “beggar” women I’ve encountered, was covered head to toe in dirty clothes, sat in a miserably uncomfortable position in front of the post office, and had her child not in her arms but in a pram. The pram was a bit out of character, but everything else looked normal. Well, Brenda and Dianne were sitting at the breakfast table feeling really sorry for this mother and her kid. At one point, the kid must have been making a fuss and the young mother started slapping him to make him be quiet and lay down in the pram. Soon Walter and Perry (the husbands of Brenda and Diane) and myself were drawn into the spectacle of the scene unfolding on the street below.
Now I had seen this image countless times as the beggar mother looked pitiful and held out a cup for spare euro change. She shook it and moaned something in some indiscernible language which I know translates into “Give some money. I’m hungry, you sucker.” It’s all a sham, an act, and they are really out to steal from us in the end. I tried to convince the others that this is how we get suckered into giving the gypsy-sorts money. Walter decided to challenge me and give her a couple of oranges from the breakfast table. I told him the gypsy mother would give him a look of disgust and throw them back at him.
Soon we were watching from the window above as Walter crossed the street, went to the young mother, and took out two oranges. As he handed them to her, even from our position some 200 feet away, we could see a big smile across her face and immediately the young child poped up from his pram and was reaching longingly for the orange. The young girl had it pealed in a minute and gave it to the kid who devoured it. In the meantime, the mom peeled the other orange for herself and began eating. Walter did not see this happen because he was walking away fully expecting to be hit it the back of his head with a flying orange as I had predicted.
Needless to say I was totally wrong in my prediction! Watching through the window two stories above the street, we saw Walter walk back to the young woman, place some change in her cup, give her a word of encouragement, and then give her a few more euro. Up above I sat at the table in shame recalling my thought that the young woman was a con artist. At that moment, everyone began going back to the breakfast buffet for seconds and loading up their bags and purses with food for the poor mother and her child. After it was all done, I think she got fifteen or so euro and plenty to eat for the rest of the day.
I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow morning.
-David
by David McGuffin | May 14, 2008 | Uncategorized
Avignon. Yes this is a historic place that should be on the “to do” list of anyone traveling to the South of France, but maybe just a half-day visit is all that is needed. The city walls (dating from the 14th century) are amazing. Just the simple fact that now, 500 years later, 90% of the walls are intact is beyond my imagination. Avignon also boasts over being the site of the “Northern Papal Palace.” It seems that in the mid 14th century, there was a divide in the Church (go figure) and the then the Pope moved all his stuff up to Avignon, leaving Rome in disarray. Within a hundred years the “Church” cleared all this up and the Papacy moved back to Rome, but Avignon prospered with the Popes.
So for the history one must visit Avignon, but the ambiance, cuisine, and experience leaves a lot to be desired. Last night I wandered the town, taking in the sights, and was scouting out dining options. Adhering to my “Thrifty and Tasteful” travel philosophy, I’d set up in an IBIS hotel with an excellent location just outside the medieval city walls. I went out to explore the sights and find a suitable place for dinner. It was 8:00 p.m. and it appeared the city was desolate. No cars, no people, not even a dog or cat in the street! When I made it to the Pope’s Palace and the main city center, there were people milling around, but not many! I walked the exterior path of the palace walls through canyons of sheer rock with the cathedral’s flying buttresses “flying overhead.” Even for me this was a bit scary because there seemed to be an abundance of “hobos” (my friend Kathleen’s term) and male couples meandering about. At times like these, Charlotte’s (my wife) apprehensions always pop into my mind and I look for a way out!
No problem. I got out of the area and was once again surrounded by expensive eateries sporting candles, soft music, expensive menus, and waitstaff all dressed in black. To add to the problem the menus started at 58 euro, not including wine…yikes! These places look promising, but it did not fit my “Thrifty and Tasteful” philosophy.
Back to the town center. It was flooded with tourist eateries, covered awnings, and multi-lingual menus all featuring the same “authentic” provencial foods. And then there was the ever-present impatient waitstaff. I tried real hard to get away from this situation and I walked away back towards the Pope’s Palace and selected an outdoor cafe that looked promising.
I was wrong. The waiter was ready to go home. The “plat du jour” was “finished” and he did not even recommend a starter or desert. I got the steak and fries which looked good when delivered with its butter and herbs, but in the end it was tough and loaded with gristle.
I could go on, but you get the point. We’ve all been “had” by these so called authentic places. I’m willing to make these mistakes and pass the information on to you. You’ll only get the best dining recommendations from me!
So two blog posts have been consumed with “food.” Tomorrow I’m going to Monaco and I promise to talk about something other than eating!
-David
by David McGuffin | May 13, 2008 | Destinations, Essential Travel Resources, Experiencing Europe
An IBIS Hotel
Avignon, France
I’ve marketed my Exploring Europe tours with the slogan “Thrifty and Tasteful Travel” for sometime. But just last night it came to me what I really mean by it. Tonight I am Avignon, a wonderful city with lots of history, culture, and style. The only problem is that all the tour groups that go through southern France stop here, add their euros to the economy, and then move on to somewhere else. I stopped by today to see if I could test my “Thrifty and Tasteful” concept.
Last night, in the remote village of Bonnieux, I was having a glass of wine at the bar down the street from my hotel. As I was writing my “Blog” and updating my journal the “Thrifty and Tasteful” concept materialized before me. So here it is….
In Bonnieux I spent 50 euro on a rather spartan, yet clean, room with a shower, sink, toilet, bed, and great view. There were better rooms in the village and even at the hotel, but I was alone and trying to impress no one. I figured the money saved on the room could be better spent on dinner. I was out 50 euro for my room and now I went in search of a place for dinner. I always checkout practically every place in town before deciding where to eat, and it was no different in Bonnieux. Bonnieux did present a special problem in that the town was small and built on a mountain, so anywhere I wanted to walk was either uphill or downhill. It never amazes me that where I want to go is always uphill!
After scouting the town, dodging the thunderstorm (complete with pea-sized pellets of hail) I ended up right back at my hotel’s restaurant. The owner, Pierre, had welcomed me to France (in English) when I checked in and now I asked him to tell me about dinner. Pierre took me into the dining room and showed me the “panoranique” view, described the menu choice in English, and even showed me the kitchen! Well I was hooked and made a reservation for 8:00. (BTW, I make it a habit not to tell the hotel and restaurant owners who I am or what I do until after the service, and only then if I want to return).
So for dinner I spent 36 euro on a four course meal that was simply amazing. The waitress suggested a bottle of local “Cote du Luberon” red wine which I took her up on. I had Foie Gras with fresh grilled bread, salad, and confiture of prunes for the starter (if you don’t like duck’s liver you should try it at one of my recommended places in France). I picked a regional speciality for the main course consisting of baby lamb shank roasted in its own fat and seasoned with juice, rosemary sprigs, and thyme. The meat fell off the bone and the rosemary was presented in a way that I could cut off fresh sprigs and add to each bite to enhance the flavor to my liking. By now I was completely satisfied and pleasantly full, but the goat’s cheese plate came and I had to have some of it. The cheese was produced in Buoux, a village about ten miles away. There was desert, but I’d had enough and skipped it. The waitress said she’d add the check to my hotel bill and I could settle up in the morning.
Ahh…talk about “Tasteful Travels” I found it in Bonnieux. So I guess I’ve discovered that I’m willing to stay in a two star hotel and dine like a king as opposed to staying in a four star hotel and trying to skimp on the food. If I had all the money in the world it would be different, but it seems just right for my “Thrifty and Tasteful Tour” philosophy.
Meanwhile tonight I’m staying in a two star IBIS hotel. These hotels are all over France and it’s kind of nice to “come home” to the same room no matter what city you’re in. But I did not succeed in finding an excellent and affordable place to eat, but that’s a story for another night.
Bonne nuit,
-David
by David McGuffin | May 12, 2008 | Uncategorized
Bonnieux, France
I arrived at the very quiet and almost desolate NICE airport at 8:30 this morning. By 9:00, I was in my rental car and heading away from the sea and into the mountains. Knowing I would have a few days to explore a little on my own, I began re-reading Peter Mayle’s classic “A Year in Provence.” In it Mayle, and Englishman, details his life as he and his wife move to Southern France, buys a house, and set up housekeeping. From his descriptions I’ve learned that his home in not too far from this village of Bonnieux.
Earlier I made a stop in Aix-en-Provence for lunch and the Sunday market. Aix main street, Cour Mirabelle, is lined with shady plane trees, double width sidewalks, quintessential outdoor cafes, and today, hundreds of white tents housing every type of craft, food, oil, lotion, clothing, and souvenir known to man. Even with all this, the Cour Mirabelle is beautiful! At one end stands the Hotel de Ville and a inviting square and at the other, a large fountain that is the signature piece of the city.
After wandering around a bit I stopped for a coffee at Café Duex Garscon, which was one of Mayle’s top recommendations for Aix. People watching has never been better. Afterwards I attempted to find a restaurant that in 1986 was one of Mayle’s top choices for Aix. But alas, it must be no more. I wandered up and down rue Frederic Mistral in search of Chez Gu, jugs of wine, and amazing food.
I settled for a glass of wine, a Perrier, and some olives at Les Grillion, a perfect outdoor café on Cour Mirabelle. For the price of a drink, I could spend the afternoon here at this table, watching life happen. There is no place like a café in France, it makes you slow down and enjoy the experience. However, the mountains were calling….
It is 7:00 p.m. and I’m at the local bar at the top of town in Bonnieux. When I arrived thirty minutes ago, I was the only person here but with ten minutes, it filled with regulars. The man here next to me must have been drinking Pastis all his life! The smell of sweet licorice comes across my nose as he stirs his drink. Others are catching up on today’s news over a beer. I don’t understand too much French, but I know enough to understand a couple of the fellows are hanging out here while their wives attend Mass at the church down the hill. They all know one another. They all walk here, and if they stay too much longer, they will stagger home together.
Bonnieux is a great find. I just happen to set my GPS to it today because it was mentioned in Mayle’s book. After four hours, I’m in love with Bonnieux. Situated atop a high hill it reminded me of the village in Andalucía Spain or even the Dordogne region of France. I’ve walked the whole town top to bottom and its well worth an afternoon and a night!
Its 7:30 and I have a dinner reservation at my hotel restaurant. Catch up with you later.
David
