On the rue de l’Amphithéâtre – Arles

Sweep out the cobwebs, shake out those shadows. Sometimes we need to go right back to where we started.

In Arles, after moving in and wandering the cross-caught streets, I fell fast in love with the tales of its shutters and doors. Cliché, absolutely, and some would say that I should now move beyond those facile waters…but…but…there was a day, not so long ago, when the sky was so blue that it tricked me back to the beginning of seeing one street as I had in the before of before, allowing me to dip in just one more time.

Instead of hurrying along the far too narrow sidewalk, I stepped out into the rue de l’Amphithéâtre, camera in hand and lifted. I had easily half an hour to spare before my doctor’s appointment. All was quiet, the tourists still sleeping. The light was flirting. A passer-by gave me a slight nod of recognition, someone else from the center of town. I love Arles before showtime. When history stretches and yawns before settling in to be admired.

Now I can add my own little histories to its two-thousand some years that are more patient than I will ever be. On this particular stretch alone I remember…my mom and I struggling with our suitcases on the bumpy pavement against a winter Mistral wind on an early descent from Paris to visit an apartment that would not work out. Being invited to a party where rooms opened upon rooms until fading into darkness and everyone was trying too hard to be casual. Pulling Ben and Kipling out of the way of a roaring car, music blaring, with only inches to spare. Perfect imperfect these memories, just like the patina scribbled on the surrounding walls for all to see. No need for them right now.

So I snapped back, quite literally with a click-click, present-bound and looked without judging and felt a tiny lift of joy without judgement too. The worn faces above the doorways winked conspiratorially before I turned into the shade of an alley, a short-cut but also a window closing. It is funny that it is no longer one of the more fashionable streets to live on, despite leading directly to the Arena (or maybe because of it); it clearly once was and perhaps will be again. Sometimes, we need to go right back to where we started.


 
Arles, eternal and ever the heady mix. Who says all roads lead to Rome?



Still no news about Teddy, friends. I will let you all know…
Bon Weekend.

My first photo credit

Well, I have a fun surprise to share with you. It certainly was one for me! My friend Anthony hinted a while back that he had something up his sleeve, so imagine my delight when he sent me a gorgeous magazine with an article about the new company that he is forming inside, only for me to discover that the photo used to illustrate it…was mine!

Now, those of you who have been reading here for a while know that I am not exactly a portraitist…to be more precise, I never take photos of people – ever – as I am far too shy. But there we were together, talking, at the end of a glorious afternoon where I had been photographing his amazing new renovation project and the light was streaming across his face so perfectly that I dared just a few. Of course, it doesn’t hurt when your subject matter is not only a dear friend but an occasional model as well…
Anthony especially appreciated one of the photos in particular and I sent it to him to use as he wished. As he is truly a good egg, he just so happened to get me my first photo credit and in a very cool publication to boot.
I Heart magazine comes out once every three months. Their objective is to take you to the center of a specific city as described by locals and established expats so that you too can be “in the loop” enough to push beyond the clichés and postcard platitudes to hit the pulse of the current scene. When I am fortunate enough to travel, this is the kind of “on the ground” fieldview that I aspire to, so it is right up my alley and I still haven’t finished pouring over its thick, matte pages.

The Spring 2016 issue is all about Tokyo…

…and I love all of the surprising ways that this mythic metropolis is portrayed through art about artists but also foodies, fashionistas, pop and street lore.

Because who doesn’t love to love? Or to discover a destination with a fresh perspective?
I Heart will take you there. 😉
“But isn’t Anthony…French?” you might be asking. Yes, and so is the magazine! Eh oui, c’est en français mes amis. And there are tons of tidbits spread throughout its pages about places and events of interest all over the world, not only on the featured city.
For more information about the current numéro or to order it online, click:
It is for sale not only in France but also in Austria, Germany, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal, Spain and the UK.

I could have never imagined being published for my photography instead of as a writer! This is a serious thrill for me.

Thank you again, Anthony, for this wonderful surprise and for being such a supportive friend…

Renovating the kitchen floor – chez Anthony

Now that spring has officially sprung, I imagine that some of you are thinking towards what sprucing up projects might need attending to around your home. C’est dans l’air, n’est ce-pas?

As it has been a while since we have visited the amazing renovation project that my friend Anthony is undertaking with his partner, I thought that we could pay a little visit, all the better to reassure you that no matter what may be on your “à faire” list…

…I highly doubt that anything will be as daunting as bringing back to life a stone floor that was most likely set in around 1750…

…on top of other basic projects such as, oh, let’s say, putting the electricity back in the walls where it belongs in these modern times…

…let alone plumbing and evacuation, rebuilding the window and doorframes, all of which will come later.

So, where to start? By calling an excellent team of artisans of course! Fortunately, there are many truly talented experts in Provence and Anthony – as I believe I have already mentioned – is a man who knows the best address for everything…toujours, c’est incroyable.
After his partner had single-handedly ripped down a non-supporting wall to open up the space (and then taken away the tons of déchets), the work could begin. First up, the most damaged of the stone blocks were removed and replaced if they could not be repaired. That so few needed to be attests to the quality of the craftsmanship from nearly three hundred years ago! Then, different techniques were tested for polishing off the indentations that heavily marked each piece (most likely from when additional flooring had been laid on top of it). The above photo was taken at this stage and if you look carefully at the flags in the bottom right, you can see that the essai was already having its effect.

So how did it all turn out? 
Ah, I am going to make you wait to see but will hint that I could skate across the smooth surface of the stones today. They are magnificent. But the work was not without a price. Despite the best efforts of the workmen, a thin veil of stone dust snaked through the rest of the house and covered each surface for weeks! If you ask Anthony, I do think he will tell you that it was worth it. 
This room will be a heart of the house and it is already quite transformed from when these photos were taken. Anthony has a lot on the burner that I am looking forward to sharing with you, not only in terms of the renovation. Let’s just say that sometimes one good idea leads to another and another…and that some times you need to start from scratch to find it. 
There will be more to follow, in time…
****

PS. There has been a lot of fear and sadness amidst this promising season. I, like you, am horrified by the terrorist attacks in Brussels and in Pakistan. I wonder where we are going. Many of you have written, asking news of my friend Ellie, who has suffered a setback in her battle with ALS but is still fighting with her humor and elegance intact. That to me seems to be a way for all of us right now. I don’t have answers for you but I have Love to give (and hopefully to receive) and am holding onto that for now as an antidote. Let’s stay strong in this together, yes?
As always, thank you for being here,
Heather

Climbing the walls

In this corner of the world, nature is waking up with a stifled, slightly embarrassed yawn. Winter has overslept its welcome and the ground is buzzing with the stretch of new greenery while tiny fists have pushed out of the barest of branches overnight. A tip of the hat to the tip of the clock for yesterday was the Spring Equinox.
And with it energy is spiraling up through my brain like vines climbing beyond the roof. My thoughts are spinning, swinging from one puffed up cloud to the next on a verbal trapeze, uncatchable. While at times that makes me smile at the folly, I also feel strongly the need to focus towards something centered at the root. 
Do you have a meditation practice? I have always danced around one, just as I have with my pick and choose spiritual beliefs. But at this time in my life, it seems like the biggest gift that I can give myself, along with healthy doses of self-care and kindness. So I am taking a cross-legged seat, closing my eyes and focusing on my breath, that greatest of gifts, never to be taken for granted. 
My mind will only calm for mere moments and so I listen to Jack Kornfield‘s instruction to treat those rollicking ideas as I would teach a puppy to stay, gently. Over and over, I come back to just being. At times that feels like it is all that I do. Start over, start over…reconnect. But it is wonderful to be able to peak around a new corner with a taste of hope untarnished in my mouth…

…so ripe for this time of year, here…and now. A beginning.
As today is World Poetry Day (thank you, Edgar!), 
I thought that I might share a poem that I keep coming back to from Mary Oliver’s new collection called Felicity:
The World I Live In

I have refused to live
locked in the orderly house of
    reasons and proofs.
The world I live in and believe in
is wider than that. And anyway,
    what’s wrong with Maybe?

You wouldn’t believe what once or
twice I have seen. I’ll just
     tell you this:
only if there are angels in your head will you
     ever, possibly, see one.
Whether you are winding up or down, please know that I am sending my best thoughts to you as we enter another season, one ripe with opportunities.
Thank you for being here,
Heather

L’Harmonie – a locals bistro in Nimes


As we steamroll through March (I know, I don’t understand how this has happened either), I imagine that some of my more meticulous friends are already deep into planning their upcoming vacations to the South of France this summer. And as we all know, that means food research, yes? One can always sleep on a cot but when it comes to la belle cuisine française, well, that is not to be taken lightly.

So today, I am offering up an address for your consideration but with a hanging clause attached to it (which makes me remember the “hanging chads” which forces me to say, “People of Florida, for the love of all that you hold dear, get out and vote today!” But I digress…).

Now, if you are at all like me – and something tells me that if you are reading along at Lost in Arles, there is a strong possibility that might be the case – each opportunity to eat out is epic, worthy of scrolling through reviews both informed (the France board at Chowhound) and uninformed (Tripadvisor’s restaurant selections for pretty much any touristy town in Provence).

 
But what if we take it down a notch for a second? What if you just want say, a pretty space that is lively, where you can munch on a reliable standby such as…
 …magret de canard with leeks and a gratin on the side? You know, Old School Stylee. 

This is why I am suggesting L’Harmonie in Nimes (or Nîmes as it is normally written, to please my friend B who works for the city). Now, they call it a restaurant but it is definitely more of a bistro. Natasha runs the front of house and she doesn’t moving stop for a minute. Because this joint is jumping. Why? It is a very good rapport qualité-prix or value for your money and I think that is especially true if you go for dinner, where the
three-course menu (with ample choices) is set at 24 Euros, exactly as it is at lunch.

  
 When I went, it was for a noonday reservation, 12:30 to be precise. I arrived with my dear friend L at 12:35 and every seat in the house was already taken save for one table in the back (a petit bémol – she had reserved ahead and yet a table had not been set aside for us *eyebrow raise*) where we settled in while listening to the contented murmur of our fellow diners. 
While L chose the previously mentioned prix-fixe menu, I opted to go even more low-key with the menu du jour for well under 20 Euros. Honestly, I did not see an enormous difference in the presentation in our starters – both featuring gambas – although L’s had a more upscale (and delicious) choice of encornet or squid as opposed to my mulet with ratatouille. Every single person at the surrounding tables had chosen the duck (perfectly cooked and brought out by the chef, no less) as I had and it was clear that many had come in just for that and a copious pour of red from the Languedoc before heading back to work. 
L’Harmonie is that kind of place, buzzy and light, perfect for a day when you are lost wandering through Nimes and hangry after paying to visit the Maison Carrée only to discover that it is, indeed, an empty if perfect Roman monument. Certainly, L’s order of a demi-baba for dessert could calm the most frayed of nerves. We stayed on, savoring it with the last of our wine until the room emptied and we too moved on into the bright light of a perfectly provençal afternoon.

L’Harmonie
29 rue de la Madeleine
30000 Nîmes 
Open Tuesday – Sunday for lunch and dinner
Reservations suggested
Tel.: +33 (0)4 66 67 21 91 
 
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