Little Waves of Hope;

Draguignan; France

21.04.2007 26 °C

For the past two weeks I have been catching up with relatives in the south of France, whilst waiting for my ever elusive French passport to arrive from Sydney so I can start working. The passport had been sent to Sydney two months later than originally indicated, meaning that I was already on the other side of the world when it arrived. I sent a fax from Morocco on the 5th of April explaining that I would not be able to pick up my passport from Sydney and that if it was possible could the French consulate please send it to Draguignan where I would pick it up on my arrival. On the 22nd of April I was meant to head to Biarritz on the other side of France near the Spanish border to begin work for the summer season, however by the 16th of April my passport had still not arrived, so I decided to call the French consulate in Sydney. The opening hours or the consulate are from 9am to 1pm AEST; which with the time difference meant I had to call from France between 1am and 5am. When I finally got through to the consulate at 2:15am; I was told by the “very helpful” French woman that my passport was being sent on the 19th and would arrive in; 6 weeks! Heading to Biarritz during the next month went out the window, and I had to begin thinking about finding work in the region.

The next day we made the trip to the tourist mecca that is St Tropez. With it’s €30 million yachts and even more impressive beach side houses, it is a place where money definitely does matter.

We met up with a distant relative of ours, Jean Paul Vasse, with whom we sailed around the bay admiring the beaches and houses with their $50 million price tags. Stories of drug trafficking and mafia connections surround most of the multi million dollar homes; and the list of celebrity holiday getaways just goes on and on and on.

Over lunch we talked about our distant family connections with the 18th century French sailor Timothy Vasse; whom the town of Vasse in Geographe Bay is now named after, and the possibility of me working in St Tropez for the next 5 weeks whilst waiting for my French passport to arrive.

On a positive note; the south of France at my grandparent’s house isn’t the worst place in the world to be stuck.

I have spent the past week indulging in French food, wine and weather, seeing relatives and lazing by their pool that overlooks the town of Draguignan and south towards St Tropez. The only thing that this place lacks, is the surf that is currently hitting Biarritz on the Atlantic coast; however the wake behind the Vasse’s boat did provide some little waves of hope;