Oops! We missed St. Tropez

Today we were excited about going to St. Tropez – heart of the French Riviera and the place to see the rich, the famous, the wannabees, the young and the gorgeous. We took the A8 for about 20 km (€1.80) and after another 12 miles we ran into some traffic on the 2 lane highway leading to St Tropez. We weren’t too concerned because we were still 17 km from St. Tropez, and thought it was a slow vehicle or an accident, but after a couple of km going at about 5 km per hour we reached a dead stop. This was starting to get serious and Hamish was all for getting out of there. We continued very slowly until the next turn off and then we realised the sad fact that all this traffic was trying to go to St. Tropez. At a rate of 2 meters in 20 minutes, it was enough for Sarah who was driving, to announce that she had had enough. We had to go somewhere else. And that is how we came to Grimaud. (Grim-oh)

Grimaud is only about 18km from St. Tropez on one of the rolling hills back from the beaches. It was described on the website as being ‘picture, postcard perfect’ which makes you wonder whether it might look fake. There was very little traffic heading that way, so that was a good start. We drove up the hill, parked and started walking into the village to look for a restaurant for lunch. It didn’t take long for Hamish to spot ‘The Café du France’ down through an arched walkway. It had a lovely outlook over a small square, and there was a strolling musician playing bosa nova, so we took our seats on the wicker chairs under the umbrellas, and proceeded to have a lovely meal.

2.30 pm and very hot out in the sun but still time for a wander along the street. This turned out to be more than that though as we discovered more and more interesting streets and buildings. What a beautiful village. Gradually it crept up to the top of the list of the best we had seen, and then finally Hamish gave it the ultimate prize of declaring it to be better than Seguray by which every town is measured since 3 years ago.

Wandering through the village was such a treat. The houses were a lovely warm-coloured stone with the traditional terracotta tiles. Some had lovely gardens with oleanders and vibrant bougainvillea which would spill over walls. Others had contrasting shutters and window boxes of geraniums. There was not a scrap of litter anyway, making it obvious that the residents of this town took great pride in their village. The ruined castle on top of the hill, dating back to the 11th century beckoned us, but the hill was just too steep at that time of the day. We came across a 16th century Renaissance style building with three gothic arches in the ‘Rue des Templiers’ , but my favourite was the tiny stone church which was almost pitch black inside. It was very old, but such a simple church, with steps down into the body of the church. It would only hold about 100 people but it had a strangely welcoming atmosphere about it and felt like a place of solitude and meditation. I loved it.

Our return home was another unplanned adventure. Somehow Camilla (GPS lady) took us onto the freeway. After only 500 mts we had to take the exit, but accidently got into the wrong lane as we approached the toolbooth and not only had to pay €3.40 but then couldn’t get off the freeway for 11 km. We had paid to go to Nice!!! This was our fault as we should have been in the far right hand lane. We made an exit and then had no idea where we were and had lost all confidence in Camilla. We found ourselves on winding roads and by now we were running very low on petrol, but finally saw a sign that said Bagnols en Foret. What a relief after 2 hours of stress.

I’m not sure what to say about St. Tropez other than all we saw were the sign posts to it and a traffic jam of 15 km trying to get into it.