Cassis, France Hiking the Calanques

I have never been one to play the lottery. And I've never been very good at making lists of things I'd do or buy if I won. Until yesterday.

We went on a day trip to Cassis, last s happily pronounced.
And the lottery dreams started. I would plunk down my winnings on a white-washed stucco beauty with a length of double storied terraces overlooking that view, a turquoise kidney of a pool and summer kitchen surrounded by palm treed gardens and cool, tiled rooms with billowy, gauzy white curtains.

And when tourists like we five plus dog came I would sit on my terrace above it all and sip pink wine, or the local white that was saved from extinction by grafted Texas vines, and laugh and laugh. And laugh.

In the meantime, I'll only go during the shoulder season when the crowds are very much there but manageable, hike with my family plus dog up the hills to the calanques, and dream of the day when I live on the hill above the fray.

{it's just pretty}

We made the trip in two hours and so were there just in time for the last bits of the Friday market and an easy lunch of sandwiches in a sunny courtyard back in the village. Local shop owners stopped by our chosen restaurant, Bar de la Fontaine, and ordered their lunches of salads, steak haché and frites, and cold, white beers with lemon.

Clementine lay sprawled in the shade under P-Daddy's chair and shared baguette with the Littlest while the big kids ordered their favorite French kid drinks, water with syrup. P-Daddy and I enjoyed the sun and our own white beers with lemon. We just try to blend.

{calanque, calanque, calanque}

After lunch we made our way to the rocky path that winds along the calanques. Calanques, aside from being super fun to say, are steep-walled inlets developed over time through erosion in the limestone cliffs along the Mediterranean between Marseille and Cassis. That's the technical definition. To me, they looked like the coves of Lake Travis I used to hike to and swim in back in the day, except much, much bluer.

{Port Pin peeking out}

You can take a boat tour from Cassis harbor of the calanques but you can also hike to three of them along this steep, slippery rock path and that sounded much more fun and adventurous to us. 

You start at the well-marked Port Miou and can walk along the protected path as far as 15 km to the En Vau calanque if you like. 

{Port Miou, the start of the Calanques walk/hike i'll take one of those yachts too}

We made it as far as Port Pin, or Pine Harbor named for the towering pine trees that surround it. The small beach there with its white sand and pale blue water proved too tempting to the kids and Clementine. 

{Port Pin Calanque}

The wind was blowing and it was quite cold coming off the water but that didn't stop them asking to dip their toes in. 

It started out rather innocently. First with the shoes and socks.

{toes only}

And then the Littlest's shorts. 

{this can not end well}

And then they ventured further. Too far for the unsuspecting, short legs of the Littlest which met the 'drop-off'. He was soaked. Ma Fille escorted him back to us and his little blue sweater and plaid shirt were wringing wet. 

Stripped down and dried with my handy leopard print H&M scarf, I've learned a lot about scarves living here, he was still shivering. 

{unsuspecting leopard scarf in Venice}

We hung his shirt and sweater on a nearby tree to dry and I dug deep to share my bottom layer; a blue tank top.

  

{freezing in my blue tank top}

After tying the tank  up in the back and sitting in the sun for a minute to warm up he was off again, playing in the grass.

{happy again}

I couldn't help thinking what stunning photographs the likes of Kirsty and Virginia could capture. The light from the water and sky made even my hack-handed photography look sparkly.


The walk back made us all crave some ice cream, which we had at an outdoor cafe overlooking the harbor. The Littlest kept saying how much he wanted to ride in a boat. Begging and pleading and staring longingly at all that blue harbor water dotted with bobbing white boats. I think he might have made another break for it if given the chance.

{hiking and swimming and baguettes, yes!}

Promises were made for a return trip; a boat ride along the calanques, a night at a hotel, picnics and swimming in the dazzling water and more white beer for the grown-ups.

This time we turned around and came back, making it home in time for hot dogs and baths before falling into our beds, tired and happy.
Imagine how nice it will be when I win the lotto and live like a French princess on the side of the limestone cliffs.