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Posts from the ‘Antibes’ Category

On what I am seeing with a pass vaccinal in the pocket

Chers clients, Pour toute venue dans notre restaurant, vous allez devoir présenter un ‘pass vaccinal‘.” –un restaurant

“En application des mesures gouvernementales de lutte contre la propagation de la Covid-19, un passe vaccinal est exigé pour les visiteurs de 16 ans et plus. Les visiteurs de 12 à 15 ans inclus doivent présenter un passe sanitaire. Le port du masque de catégorie 1 (non fourni par le musée) est obligatoire pour tous les publics à partir de 6 ans.”  —Musée d’Orsay

In order for an American to enter France today in early 2022, two vaccinations are required and possibly a booster shot if you are over 65 years old. You must test negative within a 48 hour period before boarding the airplane.

It is not clear to me if no booster would prevent entrance. When I traveled to France on February 1, 2022, I was not asked specifically whether I had a booster or not; the authorities at the various airports asked for my vaccination records and whether I had been tested for Covid before boarding the plane in Portland and before leaving the United States.

Three times at three different airports—Portland, Seattle, and Paris—I needed to show my vaccination records and my recent Covid test. Before I could go through passport control at Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, I was separated from other passengers and sent to a red area where my recent Covid test was checked. France has designated United States and its citizens as a high risk for having Covid and red is our color. (Click on any photo to see it larger and in more detail. Cliquez sur une vignette pour l’agrandir.)

Not having the booster shot while in France, if you are over 65, is a risk not worth taking.

France has instituted a passe vaccinal. It replaced the passe sanitaire.

But wait, there’s more!

On being there, or on taking self-effacing selfies

sel·fie | ˈselfē | (also selfy) noun (plural selfies) informal
“a photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically one taken with a smartphone or webcam and shared via social media: occasional selfies are acceptable, but posting a new picture of yourself everyday isn’t necessary.”

self-ef·fac·ing | ˈˌself əˈfāsiNG | adjective
“not claiming attention for oneself; retiring and modest: his demeanor was self-effacing, gracious, and polite.”

re·flec·tion | rəˈflekSH(ə)n | noun
“1. the throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it: the reflection of light.  2. an image seen in a mirror or shiny surface: Marianne surveyed her reflection in the mirror.”

I do not take selfies with my smart phone. I have yet to point a smart phone my way, when I am alone or when others are nearby, and have not snapped and—voilà—a moment was captured.  (Click on any photo to see it larger and in more detail. Cliquez sur une vignette pour l’agrandir.)

When I think of selfies, I think of an extra-ordinary moment, one that I find amusing every time, that occurs whenever I visit the room in the Louvre where one sees the Mona Lisa.

People must line up and follow a path, partitioned by ropes, before reaching the head of the line. There the tourists will take photos of the Mona Lisa, or they will turn their backs to her, lift their smart phones, and take pictures over their shoulders of themselves with the Mona Lisa behind them.  (Click on any photo to see it larger and in more detail. Cliquez sur une vignette pour l’agrandir.)

But wait, there’s more!

on some moments in antibes during the covid-19 pandemic

Antibes, France is a small tourist town nestled between Cannes and Nice on the Côte d’Azure. One advantage is its size, but still the TGV–the bullet train–stops there. Good restaurants are plentiful. Three beaches are within easy walking distance from the business areas. And, the Mediterranean Sea and the Mediterranean climate make living easy.

Antibes has an old section, Vieil Antibes. It is small and easily explored within a couple of hours. Like most old villages dating back to the middle ages, the streets–les ruelles–resemble a maze with confusing twists and turn.

Picasso painted here, and left some of his works to Antibes after a promise that a museum would be established. Renoir, Cezanne, Matisse, and others found the light inspiring and returned often or like Renoir bought homes nearby and stayed longer.

I suppose, if one is to be confined somewhere for a long period of time, a small corner of paradise  should be good.

I am confined to my apartment; and as I have noted, I must carry l’attestation with me that explains why I am away from the apartment. Some friends and I agreed to meet in front of the Monoprix, a super market, on Place de Gaulle. For l’attestation, before leaving I must check the box:

« Déplacements pour effectuer des achats de fournitures nécessaires à l’activité professionnelle et des achats de première nécessité dans des établissements dont les activités demeurent autorisées (liste sur gouvernement.fr). »

In other words, it is understood that I am shopping for food at a state approved business.  (Click on any photo to see it larger and in more detail. Cliquez sur une vignette pour l’agrandir.) But wait, there’s more!

on signs of the time during the covid-19 pandemic and talking about it in an interview

I was asked what it is like, as an American living in Antibes, to be in France during the Covid-19 pandemic. Annie from Join Us in France Travel Podcast talked to me and Patricia Perry, who lives in Paris, about our experiences with the mandatory home confinement in France. “What is it like sheltering in place in France?” she asked.

I am often stopped by the police; they want to see my attestation, the reason for going out. Leaving my apartment is becoming a privilege and not a right.

One late afternoon, I was walking next to the rampart that separates Vieil Antibes from the port. No one was ahead of me. I took one photograph of an empty street, put the camera over my shoulder, and stepped a few paces, when I heard motorcycles behind me. I turned. Two police officers stopped and asked for my paper, the attestation. After looking at it, one of them listed, sternly, the fines for breaking the rules. I was told that taking photographs is not on the list of approved activities. I was told to return home. I carry my camera still, but it is hidden under my coat.

Each day at le tabac near my apartment, I buy a national newspaper, Le Monde, and the local paper, Nice-Matin, that covers the news in my region. On Wednesday I want the Télérama, a cultural magazine. One day I asked the woman at the register if le tabac was going to stay open. Immediately, she said yes. It was necessary, she said, for freedom of the press to sustain itself.  (Click on any photo to see it larger and in more detail. Cliquez sur une vignette pour l’agrandir.)

In addition to newspapers, local, national, and international, she sells cigarettes, lottery tickets, and phone service, as do other tabacs. But wait, there’s more!