V and I are staying with Santa Barbara friends in a Grasse, Fr home exchange. They will be here for a month, we won’t be here long enough based on today’s experiences. The destination is Cabris, just 4 km away from the house. It’s late afternoon just enough time for a short walk, an aperitiff, and a simple meal. We drove, in first gear, straight up this tiny mountain road. If there is another car coming down we will not make it. Rick Steve’s described it as a ”second gear road”, I barely got it out of first. When the French built this path they thought why do we need switchbacks when we can go straight up? As we crested the hill there is a tour bus on another road used by all the people that actually know how to get here. We had earlier changed the GPS setting to country roads, maybe that was the problem.

The four of us walked past the church and to the edge of the village for an expansive view of the Grasse countryside and the sea beyond. A woman that heard us talking approached us and asked if we were Americans and how did we get here? Yes, and do you know that road? Tracy is a lithe woman in her mid years, an American divorcee from San Diego. Coincidentally, the same place as our Grasse hosts. She teaches English to the unemployed French so they have more opportunities in the hospitality industry. We meet Pierre her handsome french bf, who is quite fluent in English. I think he may be taking some night classes from Tracy. They give us the a ten minute primer on the local must sees. Pierre explains he grew up in Cannes, rides motorcycles and knows the roads well.
We head to off to the main square to explore more of the little town. After some time Tracy shows up at the square and introduces us to Susan, a hiker in her mid years, a divorcee from Hawaii, whose lives part time in Cabris. Susan asks us how we got here. I answered you know the road? Susan says, No I mean how do you know about this place? Thinking she has one of the few keys to the village we tell her it’s in the Michelin guide. At this point there is pattern of coincidences developing here. After we all share stories of Oahu she invites us all back to the home she bought two years ago. It’s a modest three bedroom with a Cezannesque painting out of every window. Her backyard is 100s of square kilometers of the Cote De Azur, a village to the sea view. Her front yard is a tiny motorpath only the locals with tiny cars drive. The celler holds vestiges of wine racking and olive oil making with only dusty shelves remaining. In basement where the the horses and goats once lived are two massive motorcycles, a Ducati and Motobecane. We all assume that they belong to Pierre, picturing Tracy hanging on to bf as he speeds though France and Italy. Nope these are hers I’m guessing that the Ducati is 800cc. If you divide that by about eight you get Tracy’s weight. She must need a seat belt and duct tape to stay on the bike at speed.
There are some very interesting people in this town.
If you think you can keep up, the Ducati dealership in Marseille opens and 9:00 am on most days.
Fact check: Cabris pop. 1456. A mayor of the town from 2008-2014 was Pierre Bornet, maybe a bf of Tracy, I’m not sure.

Cabris, France April 18th 2018