Weaving Scarlet's Web: Eze Isn't Easy

Someplace along the Cote d'Azure, is a medieval town called Eze. Perched high on a cliff, to get to it one must drive the twisty Corniche, risking death by going over the side just to let a stubborn sanitation truck past (though we actually had that same scare maneuvering the switchbacks to our place more than once). Once you've arrived at Eze, you find a space to park among all the other tiny cars packed together like sardines and say a silent thanks once again that you purchased CDW (collision damage waiver) insurance. Then you walk. Uphill. For a long time. A really long time. Have I reminded you lately that we're all 60? When you get to what you THINK is the top, you find...

Gift shops. They were inside every little medieval nook and cranny. Don't get me wrong. The stone walls and fortifications were truly amazing and a reminder, once again, that we in the U.S. are the poorer for our "tear it down and replace it with glass" mentality when it comes to crumbling structures that represent the early years of our short history. What do we have to show our children? A replica of Plymouth Rock; a model of the Mayflower, a carefully (if beautifully) rendered recreation of the original settlement in Williamsburg, Virginia. But I think I'd rather see the original footprint, even if only partially there, so see the craftsmanship originally used with cruder tools.

Moving on..and up. We were at Eze, but not yet totally within the walls. To get to the gardens at the summit meant climbing many, many more winding flights of stone steps. I say "many" because I gave up after the first few levels and almost everyone forged ahead without me. They declared the view spectacular. I thought the cold diet coke I drank under a canopy of trees as I waited for their return spectacular.