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Published: July 12th 2008
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The New Room
The terrace. "And let the world slip, we shall ne'er be younger."
--William Shakespeare, "The Taming of the Shrew"
The castle just goes from strength to strength. Last night, I had requested coffee for 6.30. It arrived exactly at 6.30 and the milk was hot. I am sitting on my balcony again, watching the morning light on Vence and writing away. There is even an outlet on the balcony so I can charge up my laptop without going inside. Does it get any better than this?
Well, it turns out that it doesn’t. I sat on my balcony for the longest time just wishing that I could stay and enjoy what promises to be a gorgeous day. But, I have a room booked in Nice and the itinerary says that it is next on the agenda. I need to get in the car, drive to Nice, walk around taking photos, check into another hotel - but I am really not in the mood. Thus, the following conversation with myself:
The Old Me: I have to go to Nice.
The New Me: Wait a second. Where is that written? Who laid down that law? Why shouldn’t you stay another night
The New Room
And this is just the sitting area. if you want to?
The Old Me: But the itinerary says that the next stop is Nice.
The New Me: Didn't you make that itinerary and, therefore, can't you break it?
The Old Me: Well, I guess so but the castle's a bit costly and I’ll have to pay the cancellation charge in Nice on top of that.
The New Me: OK - didn’t you just come into some unexpected money the day before you left (some Zurich shares that I had completely forgotten about and had to sell)? The cost of tonight is only the smallest percentage of that.
The Old Me: It’s summer in Provence. They’ll never have a room available.
The New Me: You’ll never know unless you ask.
That made sense to both of us. I said a quick prayer, putting today in the hands of the gods (after all the ones I saw yesterday, I did not want to offend anyone). If they had a room I would stay; if not, I would go. I walked down to reception and, low and behold, they had one room available. I took it. They actually apologised to me that they
The New Room
The other half. have to move me, telling me not to pack anything, that they would do all the work. Now, that’s service.
I went up to the old room, put on my bathing suit, a tee shirt and my flouncy skirt and came down to the pool. I don’t even have to go into town for stamps or cigarettes. All taken care of.
So, here it is. Not even 10.00 and I am by the pool with my laptop if I want to write and my book if I want to read. The only fly in the ointment is that the groundskeeper is cutting the grass right now. There is nothing in this world I am more allergic to. I guess I’ll just sit here, sneeze and thank the gods that the New Me won this battle.
Well, not completely. If I was going to spend a day sitting by a pool, then I have to read something constructive. Out came “Richard III” which I am going to see soon and have never read. Oh my goodness! I am now on page 147 and have FINALLY gotten to “Now is the winter of our discontent”. The editor of this
The New Room
The treats that were waiting for me. edition does go on. He actually says that the word ‘dream’ is used more in this play than in any other of Shakespeare’s. The fact that he knows this worries me. Some poor graduate student somewhere has actually counted! Life is too short.
This place continues to astound me with its service. I ordered a litre bottle of water first thing this morning. About once an hour, they come around with ice so that it stays cold. For lunch, I had a choice to go sit under the olive trees and eat or stay by the pool. I chose the olive trees and had proper French frites with my sandwich.
So, after lunch I settled down to read the play. I got through the second scene and decided that I would close my eyes for half an hour or so. Three hours later, I woke up. There is nothing better than a nap outside. The running water, the children’s laughter, the wind through the trees all conspired to help me sleep the afternoon away. Certainly beats working for a living!
I was loath to leave the pool, so stayed until 6.30 reading my play and enjoying the late sunshine with a glass of wine. Finally, I decided that I should probably go see my new room. If at all possible, it’s nicer than the one yesterday. I think they were very generous with their terms today. This room actually has two bathrooms - one with the tub, one with the shower. Reminds me a bit of my first apartment in New York….
After another of those magnificent showers, I stood looking at my bag. I couldn’t bear the thought of the LBD one more night, so I put on chinos and a blouse and I went down to the bar for a drink with wet hair. I know, but I just couldn’t be bothered.
I met the nicest English family who had been sitting near me today at the pool. They have two young girls who are darling and who reminded me so much of us when we were small. For the entire day, their parents had to basically bribe them with food or drink to get them out of the pool. The father asked me if I were an academic.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“I saw you reading ‘Richard III’, and I just assumed.”
“No, I’m not an academic. Just a nerd.”
He roared with laughter and bought me a drink. I talked to them for a while then went into dinner. The gorgeous people at the restaurant gave me the same table as last night. Tonight, however, was even more special. It is the first night of a musical festival in Vence and we could hear the music coming up over the hills. And, for some reason, there was a line of planes banked to come into Nice. They looked like early stars.
Tonight’s meal was just as good as last night’s. I started with chanterelle mushrooms cooked in olive oil and moved on to sole cooked in lemon. The fish came with tomatoes provencal, tomatoes baked with breadcrumbs and a little bit of cheese. So good!
Another thought occurred to me tonight about why the staff at these hotels are always so nice to me without being too formal. As I ate, I was surrounded on three sides by tables of people, all of whom were my age or older. They all treated the staff like servants, barely acknowledging when they came to the table. I think that when people pay to stay at places like this, they somehow believe that they are entitled to be superior and that everything should go without a hitch. On my way to dinner, I stopped at the front desk to tell them that the light in my shower had burned out. From the fulsome apology I received, you would have thought I had reported that the room had burned down. I assured them that everything was fine and that I just thought they ought to know. I got a huge smile from the concierge.
After a plate of cheese and a crème brulee that could change the world, I was leaving the restaurant. The staff all came up and asked if they would see me tomorrow. I told them in my halting French that although I would love to stay, I had to leave. One girl, who I swear works 24/7, said she would see me at breakfast.
“Je ne mange pas le petite-dejuner.”
“Seulement le café?”
“Oui.”
“Brava, Madame Bohner,” said with a wink. This is one of life’s truisms - you get back what you put out.
It was only 9.30, but I could barely keep my eyes open. I came back to the room to sit on my terrace and write for a while. That lasted all of 20 minutes so, by 10,00 I was tucked up and sound asleep. You’ve no idea how exhausting sitting by the pool all day can be!
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