South of France

South of France

We rode the rail southbound toward Cassis in the French Rivera to restore our need for nature.  Spent our mornings on our balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea wrapped in a white blanket cozy and warm from the coastal wind. The Cape Canaille, the tallest cliff in France, stretches out in front of our view. We sipped coffee and watched the last of the morning fog rolling up and over the cliff.

A beautiful place needs beautiful music. 

In Cassis, the colour of the water was a blue I’ve never seen before. An aqua-marine and turquoise blend, Bryan and my birthstones!

Nesting by the ocean with low flying gulls, soft warm ocean stones, and waves that roar with greatness, it's this beautiful watercolour palette of emotions that remind us just how alive we are.

Upon the recommendation of the locals we set out to hike the Calanques de Cassis. A National Park known for it's limestone cliffs and private lagoons. The hike is not for the faint of heart but we were bound to see something new. As the French say, “Qui vivra verra”  or “He/she who lives, shall see"!

Port Miou is the first of three inlets, where about one hundred sailboats call home. It’s limestone walls protecting them from the harsh sea during powerful storms. Which we would witness only a few hours later.

Port Pin is the second inlet and is perfect for sunbathing and swimming. The tall pine trees and crystal clear water reminded us of the swimming holes of our home in Central Texas. 

Calanque d'En-Vau was the most stunning of all the natural treasures we found that day. The pale cliffs towering above juxtaposed to the deep blue water below caught the songs of the praising birds and echoed them back to our ears. Creating feeling of beauty so foreign yet somehow so familiar.

We could have stayed in the Calanques for days, but heavy winds and ominous clouds moved in forcing us to find shelter. The shortest way home was also the most difficult path out. "I'm not scared" was our mantra even though our legs trembled scaling the heights of the canyon. Dashed through the village with the rain on our heels, reaching our door just in time for front row seats to witness mighty ocean swells. Drenched in love and laughter but safe from the storm. A common occurence when you belong to the stars and the sky. 

We forgot sunblock the way we forgot what day it was, carelessly and unapologetically. We shared dreams, we shared fears, we shared home cooked meals.

We were caught up in our youth, in our freedom, in our thrill for one another, in our thrill for life. We were in the south of France. We cooked French food we could barely pronounce, there were topless sunbathers in their 70's in the sea. I witnessed a trio of local woman take their morning swim in water much colder than Barton Springs. Chatting to each other unfazed by the waters sting.

Under the full moon in Scorpio, we came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be anything other than us when we grow up. Just us...just Bryan and Kara