Waking up late the next morning with surprisingly no red-wine hangover, we enjoyed fresh croissants that our hostess had left outside the door (amazing how easily one can endear themselves— especially with French bread). After breakfast we moseyed onto our narrow one-way street back toward town. The girls had dolled themselves up, my wife’s red hair shining in the morning sun, and I felt refreshed from a decent sleep and a good shower. An obviously local Frenchman approached with a French bulldog in tow. “Bonjour” I said, but the Frenchman and his dog just walked by with nary a glance. “Grumpy,” said my wife. “Did you notice, both he and his dog had the same frown” I said, surprised that he so blatantly ignored us.
Still on the backstreets, we turned a corner and came upon a lone cat. Alex is known amongst our friends as sort of a cat whisperer. She leaned in to try to get the cats attention but it just turned its head away casually as if saying, “talk to the paw.” Alex couldn’t even get one photo of this cat’s face.
Fortunately, the beauty of our surroundings made up for the lack of warmth we got from the locals and their pets. Alex had taken up fine art photography on one of our vacations from Venice to the Amalfi coast of Italy. She had also shot all over the US, joining me on my business trips from the southern California coast up to Seattle, the Rockies to the Tetons, Charleston to Savannah, even Maui to Kauai. This trip looked to be a goldmine for the architectural and nature-type photos she was so good at shooting….and the croissants of course!