got into the apartment in aix last night around 11pm. this morning we went down to the main drag in aix to find a cafe for breakfast. my only requirement was that it had to be in the sun. it wasn’t easy because everyone else had the same idea, but finally we found a spot. the temperature was around 40-45, so it wasn't as warm as we had hoped.
after breakfast, we strolled and did some shopping in the christmas markets – little shacks lined along the street selling gifts. they had very nice things. amy had left in a hurry and had left some things in the apt. their friends deb and steve? came over to pick up some of those things to bring back with them at christmas. they were telling us about a dinner they had the night before at some friend’s house who used to be a gallery owner. they were describing this painting that seemed like graffiti, but apparently was worth 3 million dollars. i asked if it was a basquiat painting, and they were blown away, because, indeed it was. they were not familiar with him, but it seemed to fit the description. i actually loved hearing them rail about how something so crude could be worth so much. strangely, i found myself justifying it to them.
after breakfast, we strolled and did some shopping in the christmas markets – little shacks lined along the street selling gifts. they had very nice things. amy had left in a hurry and had left some things in the apt. their friends deb and steve? came over to pick up some of those things to bring back with them at christmas. they were telling us about a dinner they had the night before at some friend’s house who used to be a gallery owner. they were describing this painting that seemed like graffiti, but apparently was worth 3 million dollars. i asked if it was a basquiat painting, and they were blown away, because, indeed it was. they were not familiar with him, but it seemed to fit the description. i actually loved hearing them rail about how something so crude could be worth so much. strangely, i found myself justifying it to them.
for dinner we went into town and found a little restaurant on a quiet square. was pretty good and reasonable for aix – which is normally as expensive as paris. the dinner started off quite well, with an attentive waiter, but as the evening continued we lost his attention. we ended up being in the restaurant for 3 hours, and longer than anyone around us. maybe it’s because they know we’re foreigners, or because jj sent her undercooked meat back. it drives p. crazy that it always takes so long for a meal.
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