Séte, France

3/17/07
(It being St. Paddy's day, I am of course wearing green...)

Marie Paul and Jay decided to accompany me on the first stop of my journey to Spain: Séte, France. It’s a fishing town on the Mediterranean, fairly near Montpelier. It took two hours to drive here, after which we got rooms in the Grand Hotel (on the balcony of which I am currently sitting).

It’s glorious weather; 70’s, sunny, and with a sea wind to keep you cool. Of course the French are all still bundled in their winter coats and sweaters.

Séte is picturesque, and made more so by the canals that were built to drain off the swampland. It is filled with outdoor cafes selling any imaginable kind of fish, cooked any imaginable kind of way. Raw, broiled, boiled, baked, fried, in cream sauce or butter, whole or filleted, or stuffed, hot or cold. Red fish, white fish, cod, trout, shrimp, sea snails, flounder, sardines (large and whole), crab, lobster, and little guys that look like crawfish and have a delightful texture when you chew them. Last night a couple near me ordered a Bouillabaisse that included a giant trout-like fish (whole) that I wouldn’t have begun to know how to eat.

Immediately upon arriving, Marie Paul, Jay and I found a place on the canal to eat lunch. We each ordered a “menu” (a list of items to choose from with a fixed price).




I ordered fish soup and a white fish in a lovely cream sauce. The fish soup was so concentrated and rich that my gall bladder talked to me about it for the rest of the day.









Here is Marie Paul eating her entrée, petit friture d’eperlans, which is tiny fried fish, eaten whole, head, tail, and all (Marie Paul remembers them as a childhood favorite). I tried one, and it was pretty good, proving that I can eat anything if it is deep fried.


Jay ordered us a local Savanion Blanc, which was so cool and lovely that it went down like cold water (hence, the three of us drank two bottles).









For dessert I had vanilla ice cream rolled in hazelnuts, and Jay had this lovely lemon sorbet served in the lemon.


After lunch I walked to the train station to buy my tickets for the rest of the French part of the trip (I was proud of myself; the ticket seller didn’t speak English, but between the two of us, I got what I needed). Then I walked around the town looking into all the stores and getting my bearings. At eight, Jay, Marie Paul and I again went out to eat; I had a lovely light dinner of half a lobster and a salad made with lettuce, tuna, and kernels of corn in light vinaigrette. Dessert was coconut ice cream served in the shell. Marie Paul had lemon sorbet served in a tall glass with vodka and a straw; the object is to drink it as the sorbet melts. A French Limoncello, with more of a kick.

This morning I woke up and went to the boulangerie and bought a croissant au chocolate and a brioche for breakfast. I took them to a café by the canal and ordered a coffee “American,” which means that they take espresso and add water, so it’s a bigger cup to drink. I sat there for awhile reading “The Debut” by Anita Brookner, which is quite funny. On my way back to the hotel I met Jay and Marie Paul on the street and we said goodbye. Then I walked to the sea.

The wind was strong, but all I needed was my wool sweater. There aren’t really beaches around Séte; there is just fishing industry, industry, and a relatively small length of shore that is bolstered by big rocks as a sea wall. There was a gravel promenade by this length, and I walked until it curved to a point that the wind was blocked somewhat, and sat down on a concrete boat launch to read and listen to the waves. The air smelled much saltier that it does at the Atlantic or Pacific. And fishier, but in an ocean-y kind of way.

It was a lovely walk; sea on one side, small residential beach houses on the other. There were lots of wildflowers blooming. Some yellow, some purple, some pink, and red poppies, just like the ones that the war vets used to sell for Veterans Day. I sat there for an hour or so soaking up the sun. Then I walked back and had a lunch of salad and muscles stuffed with pork while sitting by the canal.

The very fact that it’s hot and sunny and I’m in a sea town makes this day feel more like a “vacation” that my trip earlier to Italy and Paris did. The weather report for Spain is warm and sunny, so I’m hoping for more exquisite days like this.

(By the way, the bureocratic nightmare that "Jaques" and his theivery created is still ongoing. Now he and his sister are saying that they shouldn't have to pay back all the money. Jaques stole checks, forged them to the tune of 8000 Euros, and admitted it, but hasn't gone to jail and is being allowed by the police and the bank to negotiate if he has to pay the money back or not! We ran into his sister in Sete and I thought Marie Paul was going to take a bite out of her.)