Garlic, Ail, Aiglio!

Garlic - fresh or dried, French or Italian - it's all available in Menton and Ventimiglia. The main shot and the smaller one were taken in Italy (as you can tell by the red, white and green packaging.) The last shot - dried garlic - was photographed in Menton market.

A Taste of Garlic is a fascinating blog by Brit Keith Eckstein. Keith has lived in Brittany for seven years and each time he posts he reviews a different blog about France. He writes 'because we all like reading blogs about life in France.' Take a look - it's a must for Francophiles.

Menton Daily Photo was lucky enough to be featured one day a few months back. Do click on the link to read Keith's review.

So today, Keith, this is for you - a Taste of Garlic, with love.

Arco Musica - Strings and Shadows

Our last day at the concert in Gorbio's church. Late in the concert, when the sun poured in, the instruments created interesting shadows.

In the smaller photo, the wonderfully enthusiastic conductor, Serge Stapffer, jumped up and down, conducting with an incredible energy that he passed on to the musicians - and us. And below one of the cellists - she is serious in this shot but often she was grinning to herself, so throughly did she love the music. She was a joy to watch and listen to, as were the whole ensemble. Bravo!

Arco Musica - the Soloists

The two young soloists were brilliant. In the last photo, as you see, they are exhausted, hot and sweaty having played their hearts out. Their Albinoni Adagio for strings was sensational.

Their names: Marie Jee-Hae-Maes and Morgan Bodinaud.

Arco Musica - the Young Violinist

This beautiful young girl trained at the Conservatoire of Music in Monaco.

In the first photo, taken towards the end of the concert in Gorbio's church, her bow is caught by sunlight. It poured in from windows at the far end of the church and made her bow look rather like Darth Vader's light sabre in Star Wars.

Arco Musica - Watching the Conductor

Two nights ago a string orchestra played in the church in the village of Gorbio. The 5 euros to enter goes towards the restoration of the facade of Eglise St. Barthélémy.

The group, made up of musicians of all ages, is called Arco Musica and they were astonishing. Beautiful music - we heard Mozart, Bach, Albinoni, Vivaldi, Grieg, Sibelius and so on.

The small photo shows the 1st violin about to give a note to the rest of the group so they can tune-up.

Trompette

Absolutely the best courgette is this one - long and skinny and with beautiful flowers - and called trompette. It's more dense than the usual courgette and with a divine flavour.

These photos were taken in Ventimiglia market but they could equally have been taken in Menton. I wonder if this same courgette is available everywhere?

Ventimiglia Old Town - NO ENTRY!

Quite a few streets in the Old Town were dangerous to walk on. Roads dug up - perhaps to install drainage - wobbly planks of wood cover the work. This sign says something like 'Access denied. Specialized workers only.' Some people don't speak Italian or understand No Entry signs!

Ventimiglia Old Town - Road Works

It's one thing to live in the Old Town of Ventimiglia - it's quite another to dig up the roads. The passageways and streets are narrow so all the materials - and the rubble - is moved about in a small machine. Boards are slung across narrow sloping streets. It's time-consuming work. The guys were great and as soon as they saw me taking photos, they stopped work and wanted their photo taken. Oh those Italians!

Ventimiglia Old Town

Whilst I often cross the Italian border to shop in Ventimiglia - they have a great market - it wasn't until last week that I walked up through the medieval Old Town that looms over the Roya.

Why did I wait so long? Look at it - so gloriously unspoiled - hardly any tourists - life goes on. You may remember a recent post with the woman with the cigarette in her mouth as she bashed a carpet outside her window - she lives in the Old Town. As you wander these old streets, you get the feeling the people know - just know - this is the way to live a life.

The dog is called Wolf and is thirteen years old - bare patches on his back. You can see a close-up of Wolf on Riviera Dogs today.

Tits on my Terrace

A couple of years ago a friend gave me this nesting box which I fixed under a corner of the terrace roof. I didn't think it was a 'real' nesting box, but probably 'garden decor' so it was a surprise when a month or so ago a couple of coal tits started checking it out - flew in, flew out again. Perhaps they thought the rent might be too high. Or perhaps it was simply unsuitable - too near humans (I eat at the terrace table) and of course, far too much noise from the dogs. But then they were back, checking it out again - it seemed the accommodation might do. Time passed and I thought they'd changed their minds, until a couple of weeks ago when things got busy. Suddenly Ma and Pa Coal Tit started flying in and out all day long, endlessly feeding their obviously now hatched brood. In their beaks: spiders, grasshoppers and little bits of the fatty balls I hang out for all the birds. And each day the chicks' cries got louder and more demanding.

Yesterday, over breakfast, for the first time, the chicks fluttered up to the tiny entrance and then dropped down again. It seemed it might soon be time for them to fly away.

And so yesterday morning I took my camera out just in case, but the light was too bright on the box, the sun too strong. The camera went back into the house. Over breakfast and deep in conversation with friends who are staying, suddenly, one fledgling appeared, looked around, leaned forward and then launched itself into a new life. Its first flight. As I said, the camera was inside the house... grrrrrrrrrrrrr!

So, from that moment on I waited with the camera - didn't move - and then about an hour later, chick number two appeared - as you see in the photo. It looked around, went back in, looked around again, noticed the sea and the sunshine and then - whoosh - it was off too. Maybe there was a third but I don't think so. Anyway, now the box is empty.

I can't begin to tell you the feeling of privilege one has when birds nest on your terrace. Hope they come back next year. And yes, I'm no bird photographer but at least you see the chick in the first two shots a mere second before it flew for the first time in its life - and Mama Coal Tit in the last one (taken the day before).

For great bird photography, you need to visit Abe Lincoln's brilliant My Birds Blog. Yes, that Abe Lincoln - he's a descendant of the great man and lives in Ohio but hasn't been too well lately. This post is for you, dear Abe. Get well soon.

Death in the Mediterranean

Two weeks ago I was walking on Cap Martin and saw this floating blue mass of dead jellyfish near the rocks (see last two shots). On Sunday, in Menton, the same species were washed up on the beach. (main photo)

Nice-Matin had an article on this phenomenon - apparently quite rare but caused by a combination of winds and the fact that these jellyfish frequent shallow water. In Hyères, which is near to St. Tropez, hundreds of thousands were washed up and covered the beaches - and stank. Click HERE. Interestingly, in Asia this species are on the menu.

They are called Aurelia or Moon Jellyfish. And yes, taking the close up was a smelly moment...

A Sign in Dolceacqua

What's so incongruous about this sign is that it's at a window high up on the left-hand side of this
medieval square in Dolceacqua, just across the Italian border and a little way out of Ventimiglia. Somehow the style of the sign doesn't go with the ancient stones but hey, it gets noticed - so long as you look up.

Being the first of the month, it's Theme Day (Funny Signs) on City Daily Photo so to see how this subject is covered by other bloggers in many cities around the world please click here to view thumbnails for all participants.

Old Boys' Toys

On the weekend, Menton went to town with a nautical festival - high-speed racing boats and a great atmosphere. On the Sablettes beach, enthusiasts of remote-controlled model boats put on a fabulous display. Some of the model boats are worth between 800 and 1500 euros. Interestingly nearly all the participants were somewhat older men.

The Carpet Shaker

We are way up the top of the Old Town of Ventimiglia where many people still do things the old way.

Street Theatre - Wandering into the Action

This enchanting child (and her father) wandered onto centre stage and so became part of the action for a brief moment in time.

Last day at the Street Theatre so let's finish with a girl inside a pile of old tyres. Why not? I think she represents a girl who is drowning.

Thanks so much to everyone who has followed this series.

Street Theatre - Flags

Here are some of the younger performers having great fun on bicycles, bouncing on balls and running around with the Italian and French flags.

Almost done with the kids' Street Theatre. There are loads more photos but it's time to move on. So last day tomorrow or perhaps the day after - and then onwards - so many other things to show you.

Street Theatre - Smiles of a Summer's Day

Faces - ready to go. The girl above is about to put a piece of chewing gum in her mouth. The girl on the left - a cigarette.

The girls below are simply putting on a smile.

Street Theatre - the Girl in Blue

This piece of street theatre is about a girl (the actress in blue) who is teased/bullied/ostracised by the confident girls in the last photo. She falls apart and has a breakdown. The scene above shows her shortly after her arrival at a psychiatric hospital.

Street Theatre - Isolation

This young girl sat on the bollard for well over an hour, sometimes texting, sometimes just staring into space, yet never seeing - always totally isolated from what was going on. Look at the girl on the far left of the top photo - she has noticed her and perhaps her isolation.

'If isolation tempers the strong, it is the stumbling-block of the uncertain.'

~ Paul Cezanne

Street Theatre - the Italian Teacher

Somehow the teachers kept control of their adolescent students.

'No bubble is so iridescent or floats longer than that blown by the successful teacher.'

~ William Osler