Posted: 10 July 2014 by David Lebovitz
I had no sooner returned from
Sicily, then I unpacked my suitcase, re-packed my suitcase, and headed back
out, to Provence. Even though I’d just returned from a ten-day trip, my other
half was doing a project in the city I went along for the ride because, 1) Who
wants to be sitting in a hot apartment, alone, in the summer, when you could be
by the sea? And 2) The icy rosé of the south was calling. (And drinking alone
raises other issues.) So I went.
Our hotel was very basic, but I
loved the bathroom colors, holdovers from France in the 70s, or perhaps the
80s? Or someone was exceptionally good at recreating vintage French bathroom
fixtures and colors. As I was happily lathering myself up after the humid train
ride, I kept thinking that I’ve finally mastered the French curtainless hotel
shower, and gotten it down.
Except when it was time to stop
soaping up one side, and move to the other. And I realized that it’s that
switch that I’ve yet to master; the moment when you need to swap the
soap-holding hand with the hand holding the pommeau
de douche (nozzle head), and a fountain-like spray of water breaks
loose all over the bathroom. I’m not sure how one does it, especially when
there is no holder for the shower nozzle. But I guess that’s why they load
hotel rooms up with towels.
Continue Reading Hyères, Provence...
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