How We Got Here from There

Saturday morning, on the 6:53 a.m. train to Nice we met fellow physicist (FP) and fellow physicist's spouse (FPS) also on their way to rent a car at the Nice train station in order to drive to Bruno's restaurant.

 

Agay Cove coastline

The train station in Agay has no ticket office, so when one boards, one is supposed to find the agent on the train and purchase tickets from her/him.  We saw no ticket agent, and rode on through many stops waiting for one to appear.  When the train official did show up, rather than a 6 euro ticket fee, we each had to pay a 35 euro fine for not having a ticket.  Figure that one out.  Our French friends argued the case but were given the same Pah Non Non Non, we'd received from M. Cigarette-with-Attitude at the car rental (see previous blog).  FPS later commented that she was happy to demonstrate that we had not been treated badly the day before because we struggled with the language or were Americans, but because everyone can get shafted by bullies now and then.  And she added: we should just be glad they are not in our family.

By the time we reached Nice, we figured out we could rent one car for the four of us, rather than one for each couple.  No driving or navigating for Catbird or my physicist!  Catbird, can you say thank you to the universe? Indeed. Indeed.


And so we rented a car in Nice, FP drove us back to Agay, with Catbird and my physicist nodding in the back seat until we left the big highway for the scenic route and Catbird flushed seven shades of green motion sickness.  Catbird can't figure out why she never anticipates motion sickness will take her when--in the backseat on that crenulated ocean-front road--it was inevitable. Catbird tried very hard to weather on and almost made it all the way back to Agay before requesting an urgent pullover...


One promethazine (God bless the stuff) and 90 minutes later, through flood devastated French countryside, our caravan pulled up at idyllic Chez Bruno. 

 

Statue overlooking Chez Bruno Parking Lot

Catbird and Physicist and FPS all agreed: any ordeal to get there was worth it worth it worth it.  Chez Bruno is the total package, from pastoral setting, ancient but beautiful and well appointed family farm house, art work throughout the grounds and serving areas, and Bruno, bigger than life.  The most surprising thing for Catbird was how relaxed it all felt; this is a family restaurant with kids all around, including Bruno's grandkids and their dog happily playing in and out.

 

Notice Bruno's hand is as big as my physicist's head

Two things made the day even better: 1) the weather was perfect with many sweet floral scents from the garden settling around us as we ate on the patio. 2) One of our group had been friends with Bruno since they were a poor village kids together.  Now they talk about Bruno's Maserati and Alain's Porsche and slap each other on the back as they tell jokes and tales--most of which Catbird and my physicist missed because only occasionally did someone translate the conversation into English.

We were given a tour of the kitchen, followed by champagne toasts (Catbird and my physicist faked drinking) and truffle bruschetta and Bruno presented us each with a truffle to take home.  Alas, we doubt ours will survive the trip though we are determined to try.

 

Friends translate Bruno's joke to us.  

Notice the truffles on the table.

It was fun, and did Catbird mention the food?  Excellent! Every dish was truffles: truffles in pastry with sauce (it was all any of us could do to keep from licking the plate), truffles with potato--Bruno's signature dish, and truffles with langostino.  Catbird was glad her appetite returned in time for this meal.

 

Statue on Chez Bruno patio

However, promethazine combined with the rich food and incomprehensible conversation had Catbird nodding.  My physicist suggested a walk between courses and Catbird used her camera as an excuse to prowl the grounds.   This added another beautiful element to the day, and also helped in the consciousness category.

 

Truffles with langostino

Catbird made it back to her chair in time for pre-dessert and then dessert (yes both were served) .  They were the only dishes without truffles but it didn't harm their flavor a bit.

Five hours after arriving, we finally said our goodbyes.  Catbird's only wish to improve on the day: to click her heels together three times and be transported immediately into her pajamas and bed.  Maybe FPs (whom Chez Bruno continually referred to as the savants) will work on that.