French Interlude

My husband just returned home from a bicycle tour in the French Alps that he took with four equally cycling-obsessed friends. It's his third year going and though it's always sad to wave goodbye, it makes me happy to know how deeply he values a week spent doing what he loves. And really, what's not to love about the occasional separate vacation? I have a week to putter without guilt and then he returns deliciously weary, spiritually refreshed and loaded with (only slightly exaggerated) tales of adventure and superhuman endurance.

(Base of Alpe du'Huez, France, June 2010.

All photo credits: Jeff Suhy.)

Piero is cuckoo for cycling. At night in bed, he pores over his latest bicycle catalog (derailleurs! crankshafts! shifters!) with the same breathless intensity my son has for Pokemon cards and Percy Jackson books.

Me: Are you ever going to read that book I bought you?

Him: As soon as I finish this new catalog.

(Note: Catalogs arrive daily.)

Before each trip, he spends months meticulously researching a route, which always encompasses some of the same mountain ascents as the Tour de France and ranges from 60-100 kilometers a day and a few thousand vertical feet.

(My husband, far right, with ses amis in France)

There's no question that the trip is breathtakingly beautiful...

(War memorial, French Alps, June 2010)

(Hotel, Lake Annecy, June 2010)

...but it ain't easy.

(Approaching thunderstorm, Alps, June 2010)

(from "The Triplets of Belleville")

This year, there was pelting rain, bitter wind and the occasional snow-laden pass. And every evening, the inevitable aching feet, sore legs, and numb derriéres.

(Sign for bread, 2010)

After some carbo-loading...

(from "The Triplets of Bellevilles")

...they would hobble off to bed, collapse into dreamless sleep...

(from "The Triplets of Belleville")

...rise at dawn and very gingerly get back on the saddle.

At least that's the way I envision it. In truth, there were moments like these, too:

(A mountain and a Pernod, June 2010)

(Alpine picnic, June 2010)

Oh, and there was the team van that followed them in case they blew a tire, fancied an Evian or an almond croissant, or wanted an extra sweater to tie around their shoulders. (And Piero hasn't copped to this, but I'm pretty sure that if road fatigue set in, the driver would play Kraftwerk's "Tour de France" and spur them on with a theatrical "Vas-y! Vas-y!" in a throaty French baritone.)

(from "The Triplets of Belleville")

(Piero ascending mountain, June 2010)

P.S. If you somehow haven't seen the cartoon movie, "The Triplets of Belleville," oh do do do. It's strange and gorgeous and otherworldly and defies description, so here's the trailer (albeit slightly cut-off; does anyone know how to fix this?):

Note: If you are or know someone who is an ardent cyclist and would like to create a bespoke tour for themselves, Piero has used Duvine Adventures for three years now and has never been less than thrilled.

La Vie Francaise

La belle France has been on my mind the last few days. I finally watched "Coco Before Chanel" on Netflix this past weekend, The Style Saloniste is visiting Paris right now and my friend Belinda Carlisle called me yesterday from New York in the middle of her press tour for her new memoir, Lips Unsealed.

Belinda has made her home in the South of France for the last 12 years and after my son Luca was born, I would take a solo trip every year to stay with her for a week and relax, unwind and catch up that most precious of commodities for a new mother: sleep.

(My guest room at Belinda's home, South of France)

I haven't been back there in about three years and I miss it. There is such a distinctive style to the French Riviera. Life there is so intimately connected with the outdoors, especially in summer, when the fertile seductiveness of the landscape and soft caresses of the sun bathe everything in an intoxicating charm. The word "langour" is derived from Old French, for obvious reasons. You just want to sit outside under an orange tree, feel the warm marine wind on your body and sip something iced and nectar-y.

(Belinda and me by her pool, circa 2004?

I had just arrived, hence my NYC pallor.)

Belinda and her husband and son have lived in a variety of houses in the South of France and now happily reside in the hills of Provence. Here's a photo I took of their downstairs salon on one of my trips there.

To me, it's a perfect example of Riviera Style. A massive sleigh daybed festooned with silk pillows anchors the center of the room and local flea market treasures rub shoulders with family heirlooms: the vintage hand-painted screen in the back (it's hard to see, but the style is very Ludwig Bemelsman), the Venetian mirror, the harp, and the wonderfully odd blue, green and white multi-lanterned lamp reveal Belinda's passion for color, history and the dolce vita lifestyle. Vivid pieces like the yellow armchair, the vintage 1950's painting overhead and all those jewel-toned pillows (silkscreened with the faces of French aristocrats) make it both personal and approachable.

In every house she lives in, there is always a leopard print somewhere (note the armchair). Her son James was about ten here and heading off to school; now he's a lovely and self-possessed 17 year old (and 6 feet tall!) and heading off to college in the fall.

(James Mason, 2003)

During my stays there, we would hike, explore local towns, spend a beachy afternoon at the Belles Rives Hotel at Juan-les-Pins, do some shopping...

(Belinda in the markets of Vieux Nice, 2007)

...and spend a lot of time discussing what we were going to eat. We would visit the local farmer's markets in the morning and stock up on all the incredible fruits and vegetables...

...and then go back home where Belinda would waltz around the kitchen, barefoot and braceleted, with Bird, her parrot, offering vociferous comments from his safe perch on her shoulder. Afterwards we'd sit at the table and chew over the usual subjects: friends, books, travel and trying to live a meaningful life.

(Belinda with Bird, her beloved parrot, and dog Bingo)

Even taking a trip to to the local Géant supermarket was fun: it's so enormous that the sales staff wear roller skates! I wish I had taken a picture of the cheese aisle -- it's the length of a football field. I will next time.

Belinda is an intrepid road warrior, so my visits usually included a girls' road trip somewhere. One year, we both became fascinated with the Knights Templar and went on a three day trip to Languedoc-Roussillon to explore a few of history's unsolved mysteries.

(Somewhere on the way to Carcassonne)

Okay, we also went to some fun parties. I took the photo below at Johnny Pigozzi's yearly luncheon during the Cannes Film Festival. We were all aflutter because Bono had just arrived. Even Belinda was moved to strike a pose.

(View from Cap d'Antibes)

But no stay chez Carlisle/Mason was complete without a trip to the most enchanting restaurant on earth, La Columbe d'Or.

Situated in the crazy charming medieval village of St. Paul de Vence...

(photo via here)

...La Columbe d'Or combines traditional gastronomy with a glamorous history, wonderful service and chic people-watching in one of the most romantic locales ever.

Every artist, movie star and luminary from the last sixty years has eaten here. It's also a small luxury hotel; in fact, Picasso and Matisse lived here for a time and settled their bills in paintings (that worked out well for the owners, as you can imagine). As a result of this barter agreement, the artwork everywhere is astounding.

(Simone Signoret and Yves Montand at the Columbe d'Or, via their website)

(Picasso at the Columbe d'Or, via their website)

I scanned a brochure from the restaurant to show you because the photographs do a wonderful job of capturing the magical feel of the place.

Last night, dipping into Dirk Bogarde's book of letters, "Ever Dirk", which has a permanent spot on my nightstand, I came across this memory of La Columbe d'Or. It says it all.

From a letter dated February 15, 1970:

Angela and Robin Fox [parents of English actors James and Edward Fox] came down to the Columbe d'Or with us...and at lunch on the terrace, the sun blazing, the mimosa great golden plumes, the almond blossom drifting in the soft wind...and the doves scattering in an arc of blue sky, Antonia said, "I think this is as near as I will ever get to Heaven." Which was rather nice.

Here we are, all dressed up and on our way to one of our dinners there.

(Belinda and yours truly)

(Morgan and James Mason)

Scandal-Ridden Royalty Slept Here

I just received an email this morning from The Landmark Trust that's sent me into a swooning spiral of joy.

For those of you unfamiliar with The L.T., it's an English company that rents out gorgeous heritage buildings to enjoy as if they were your own. It's a genius way of preserving historic properties that would otherwise be torn down, as well as giving plebes like me the chance to play country squiress for a week. I've rented from them many times and each stay has been a magical experience.

Well, The Landmark Trust has now expanded their offerings to include houses in France, and they have obtained an incredibly fabled property (hence my heart palpitations).

Ready?

As of today, they are accepting bookings at "Le Moulin de Tuilerie" which just happens to be the former country weekend residence of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

(Le Moulin de Tuileries, Gif-sur-Yvette, France)

The property features three separate buildings, of which the Moulin is the largest. It sleeps ten and was the Windsor's main residence (and the only house they ever owned).

(Le Moulin de Tuileries, via here)

The welcoming grey stone house is surrounded by grounds that open miraculously to views of the valley beyond. Of course, the house has been redecorated since the Windsors lived here, but apparently the Duchess's jeu d'esprit still presides from the wall of the large first floor living room, which states, "I'm not the miller's daughter, but I have been through the mill."

(Le Moulin de Tuileries, via here)

According to Diana Mosely (one of the legendary Mitford sisters), the sitting room "was a very cheerful room; I always thought it was the place to have fun and a good time." Here's a photo I found via the fabulous An Aesthete's Lament which shows The Duke and Duchess doing just that, circa 1965:

Some scoop from the Landmark website:

The Windsors entertained the glitterati of the 1950s and 1960's [at Le Moulin] -- Maria Callas, Marlene Dietrich, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, Cecil Beaton and others.

And this:

Edward was especially captivated by the site and commissioned English garden designer Russell Page to design the gardens, which he tended himself and whose layout remains today.

Here's a photo of Edward working in the garden at Le Moulin, circa 1960...

(via An Aesthete's Lament)

...and the grounds as they look today.

(via The Landmark Trust)

There are also two other buildings on the site, and each can be rented separately. There's the ironically named "La Célibataire" ("bachelor's quarters"), where Cecil Beaton stayed whenever he visited the Windsors. This romantic little hideaway sleeps two and features an open plan ground floor, a large bedroom tucked underneath the roof timbers and a 1950's hip bath.

(La Célibataire, via here)

Lastly, there's "La Maison des Amis", which sleeps four and according to the website, has "a panelled interior more elegant than the honest external walls might suggest." I'm intrigued.

(La Maison des Amis, via here)

For photos on what the interior of the house looked like when the Windsors lived there, An Aesthete's Lament has done a lovely post HERE.

Prices are per house and vary wildly according to the season.

A few examples follow:

Le Moulin (sleeps 10):

(£990 for a week in January; £3,550 for a week in August)

Le Célibataire (sleeps 2):

(£784 for a week in October; £539 for a week in March)

La Maison des Amis (sleeps 4):

(£1,523 for a week in September; £1,069 for a week in December; £1,904 for a week in July)

This summer, Piero, Luca and I are returning to Gargunnock House in Scotland with an assortment of good friends and their children. It will be our fourth time renting this Landmark property...

(Front of Gargunnock House, via here)

...but I have to say the Moulin de Tuilerie is a pretty enticing possibility for 2011.

Who's going to book it first?