Is Grasse the Weed of France?

📍 Grasse, France

Summary

Drove to Grasse, the perfume capital of France, possibly the world. Quick lunch then hoped to catch the little tourist train but didn’t want to wait an hour so got a walking tour map from the Tourist Center and did our own. On the recommendation of the woman working there we drove to Mouans-Sartoux to visit The Gardens of the International of Perfumery (sic). They were incredible with wisteria, lilacs, irises, roses and jillions of other blooming things! Hit the supermarket then home to make dinner and chill.

Details

After yesterday’s long drives and wild fair, today will likely be more calm. We’re sticking closer to home but still we are venturing out. We’re headed to the city of Grasse. Hearing that city name reminds me of the small Northern California town of Weed (population ~ 3,000). Despite Weed’s small size, its name does conjure up certain imagery. The city’s chamber of commerce came up with a slogan that always tickles me: “Enjoy Weed”.  Grasse, by contrast, is a bit more serious. It calls itself “The perfume capital of the world”, and that’s probably enough. 

Prior to heading that way we enjoy a relaxing morning in our VRBO, doing laundry, exercising, blogging, and trying to fix the darn internet. We’re successful on all of those, save for the internet. Our VRBO’s owner is trying all he can, but it’s France and it’s the weekend and it’s high tech, so we’re still just using our US-based cell service for now. 

Grasse is only 11 miles away, but with the windy roads, and being up in the hills, it’s a 40 minute drive. By the time we get there we’re ready for lunch and thankfully find a brasserie rather quickly. We install ourselves at a table outside and order. I have my umbrella as we don’t know if or when it’ll sprinkle again today. Lunch was good and soon we’re on our way again, on foot, this time to explore the town. By the time I realize I left my umbrella at the brasserie, it’s closed and locked up tight. 

At the center of town, the Fragonard perfume company hypes their “free factory tours” as many ways as they can. As we (and others) try to go in for a tour we’re turned away (for some reason), so no tour for us. Based on what I smell, I figure some big 55 gallon drum of perfume must have fallen over and spilled and they’re cleaning it up. At least that’s how it smells to me. I am happy we aren’t taking the tour. 

We do a self guided walking tour around the small town and stop periodically to read about this church or that famous person’s house. In the church we get a chance to see what one of these buildings look like if they’re totally unadorned. It’s just stacked up stone blocks. I think the ornate, painted and gold variety are more interesting. The thing of interest in the Place Poissionere (Fisherman’s Square) is the stone sink with a water source and a drain. This was where they rehydrated the salt cod. Not a fan thereof, I’m happy I live when I do. When we get to another big square I think I am being punked as they’d hung a few hundred umbrellas up as decoration. Are they making fun of the fact that I just lost mine? 

Our next stop is a drive to another place associated with the perfume industry, Les Jardins du Musée International de la Parfumerie, the gardens of the international museum of perfume. Their explanation is that perfumes need many scents to mix, and plants and flowers have some nice ones. The place is huge and they have a ton of blooming plants planted and lots of them are blooming right now. The place is many acres and we walk a lot of them. We feel lucky to find this place and to be here at this time of year. Karen seeks out the best smelling roses, and surprisingly none of the roses we sniffed seemed to have any scent at all. Go figure.

Once we are flowered out, we walk back to where our car is parked, a big grocery store, and do more shopping. Once again zero eggs. Karen had been told that France changed their rules to make the lives of the birds better, and as such the output is down. Add to that the increased consumption of eggs due to the high cost of other proteins and the culling of flocks due to avian flu and bingo you have an egg shortage. We did find some yummy looking cooked chicken, more wine, more veggies and cookies and we’re ready to head home.

Dinner is tasty as always and soon we’re ready for bed. Tomorrow we’re off to Nice for the day.

Photos

[Note: to view the photos in chronological order, start at the bottom :-/ ]

Periodically we cast our eyes from the back porch towards the Alps to the northeast. Is it clear yet? Is there still snow? We’re going there (for the day, by train) in a couple of days. We’re praying for clear sunshiny weather.
Dinner is once again delicious.
Back home, our two culinary wizards do their magic in the kitchen.
Such bright colors!
Nancy almost getting swallowed up by yet another out-of-control wisteria.
Sample flowers. I think you can even see iris and peony off to the right.
We visit the garden of the international perfumery museum. It’s wild crazy impressive in its size and plantings. All of the flowers, bushes and trees seem very happy and are blooming like nobody’s business.
At another square in town they have umbrellas hung up to add some color. I take it as a poke at me for having left my umbrella at lunch.
At an overlook we have a look. Despite the overcast skies I can tell the hillside in the distance would be a fun place to live. Sign me up!
At one of the churches in town we take a look inside. The style is “add stones and stop”. It makes me appreciate the ones with stucco, paint, and lots of gold. To their credit they do have some large paintings by Peter Paul Rubens.
Next door to the tourist office is the Palais Congres (convention hall?). It’s impressive for such a small town. The perfume business must be very lucrative.
At the main tourist office they have this desk on display to show how perfume is made, or should be? Or something like that. It’s impressive. Tell me again, how little are the material costs?
We were amused by the ‘short cop/tall cop’ juxtaposition. The comic segue police vehicles add to the overall effect. I imagine them saying “Freeze, it is zee police!” in a strong French accent. The thief would be frozen with laughter.
There’s a good view of the Mediterranean Sea in the distance and we take advantage to snap a couple of glam shots.
In the town’s main square (we think) there are plantings where the wisteria seems to have taken over (as it has in much of this part of the world).
After lunch we do a walking tour of Grasse. Pretty cute.
Lunch in Grasse raises our spirits. The owner is ready for retirement and has his brasserie up for sale. Karen and Ron both say “non!”
An all encompassing focus for me for much of yesterday and today is getting the gol darn internet working. Same as it ever was. Not there yet.
In the sunroom off the kitchen and the living room. The morning ritual, in PJs: Coffee and catch up on the world news.