Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Coiffure á la Chien

Since Alan’s hair grows about a mile a minute, we brought our shaver/haircut kit along with us (and I’ve cut his hair twice!). Mom also used it on Dad, and in the midst of all this barbering I brough up the fact that it has been waaaaay too long since I had gotten my hair cut (Alan has declined to return the favor and start cutting my hair). I had already thought about getting a hair cut while I was over here; I figure if I am going to have to do something why not get the more adventure for my euro? Hm, maybe that philosophy is what got us living over here in the first place! I mentioned this to Mom, who thought it was a great idea and offered to translate if Dad would drive us over to Bonnieux. She first went and asked the lady at the tourist office here in Lacoste where to go to get a haircut; the lady apparently is not the salon type as she was a bit floored and didn’t have any idea. I had seen a salon multiple times in our drives through Bonnieux (which might be what sparked the idea in the first place) and so we decided to start there. After finding it closed (even though it’s hours indicated it should be open) we went to the Bonnieux tourist office, and the lady there had a map with the two salons in town actually marked on it. Now we’re talking!

The second salon was open, and so we made an appointment for this morning. We were the first customers, and after turning on all the blow-dryers to warm the place up the lady discussed with Mom what I wanted, took of her scarf, and got to work. I hadn’t had any really though of getting bangs before, but I really felt that getting a trim just wasn’t going to be much of an adventure! So Mom had dutifully looked up “bangs” in the French-English before we left, and I was a little uncertain of why she had a sudden laughing attack upon finding the word. Apparently, the first way listed to say it in French is “coiffure á la chien” which literally means “haircut like a dog.” The second way, “coiffure en frange” seemed like a safer if not as hilarious option.

We returned home, and Alan said I looked cute, so all is well. I think I’m getting used to them, and it is a nice change of pace : )

Mom wanted a short excursion, so we decided to visit Goult, the small and much less touristy town just across the valley to the north. One of the SCAD teachers owns a home over there, and the area seemed like a very nice mix of old and new. We walked through the town, which seemed to have bits of an old castle mixed in, and to the local windmill, which was named Jerusalem in honor of someone from the town who went on the Crusades. From there a path continued down to the olive terraces, which are some of the best maintained in the area from ancient times. The olives are getting almost ripe; there is a local olive oil festival in a town a little to the north of us this weekend, although I haven’t seen anybody harvesting around here yet.

Olive tree terraces

This sunset was neat with the moon and the purple hill.

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