Having just returned from France’s southernmost frontage on the Mediterranean Sea, an area otherwise known as the French Riviera (to English speakers; to the French, it’s the Côte d’Azur), I have Wee Heavy (a.k.a. Scotch Ale) on my mind instead of local Pastis.
As analogies go, this one is a head-scratcher even by my meandering objectives, but stay tuned as I roll forward with it.
First, the Riviera, a vicinity I somehow missed during wandering times of yore when time and effort were constantly expended toward a goal of going places; some might say I never really got anywhere at all, and they may well be right, but at least I’ve managed to visit a great many European locales, which I keep doing for the simplest of all reasons: it makes me feel happy in a way almost nothing else in life does.
Consequently we spent last week in Nice, a municipality of the French Riviera located on the seafront near Monaco, Cannes, St. Tropez, Antibes, and other charming settlements familiar to James Bond, where land...Read more
