A Sweet Summer Storm

8/30/2016

Lovely, rainy day in August.

The rain in Cannes lands with emphasis. Rolling thunder echoes throughout the surrounding hills and although it is still morning, the sky is dusky-hued. Cars and motorcycles plunge through the wet streets below us, on their way to appointments that cannot be missed merely for weather. In our fourth floor apartment, a door suddenly slams shut. It sounds like a gunshot, but is only the product of wind.

Suddenly the sky flashes an electrical white. The sky cracks, and thunder takes command. The depth of the sound overwhelms; its noise is so profound and all-encompassing that for an instant, everything stops. It is no wonder to me, when we experience storms in Europe, that ancient peoples here believed in gods hurling death from the sky. Weather is so much more casually violent here than in our San Diego home.

We relax. We pull up the covers... just a little bit longer. Today is the last day of vacation; tomorrow, no matter the weather, we will pack up Chico Suave and drive home to Barcelona.

Gentle breeze and a sultry storm.

There will be much work to do. In just 2.5 days we must remove our belongings and clean the small, sweltering AirBNB apartment in Barcelona (the one we've been avoiding for two weeks with its roaches, mold and unending noise) and move into our new place - if they let us!

The new Barcelona apartment is still a mess, wrecked from its past Russian tenants. Holes in the walls, light fixtures falling off and sockets destroyed in an apartment that was apparently completely remodeled only two years ago. Purple candle wax was poured haphazardly and it has hardened over the fireplace hearth. The putrid smell of those scented candles lingers across the dusty and dirty apartment, whispering secrets of its past life.

(Yes, we WILL sage the place!)

We have a signed lease, but have no promises of an arrival date. Our rental agent shook his head at us... "I thought you said you needed to move in by the 13th - trece."

"No. TRE, not trece," replied Señor Aventura. (3 not 13) "We are out of our rental on the third. We must have a place to sleep at by the 3rd!"

"I cannot say whether this will be possible," Juan replied. "Our workers are on vacation. We must be patient. We must try."

Sigh.

Here we are though, still in Cannes. One last day of sultry French sauces that melt in your mouth... one last day of the romantic French coast. (It's vibrance cannot even be dulled by the irritated bickering of the Aventura children in the next room, their three vibrant little spirits anxious to get out into this rain, into the exciting day - to greet the white lightning with broad smiles.)

Today, thanks to rain, we have decided to attend the Cinema. When in Cannes, what could be a more perfect rainy day activity? Cannes is known worldwide for its cinema, music and theaters. I've discovered a children's film - "Peter et Elliott le dragon" playing at the Olympia theater; happily, there is a delicious Japanese restaurant ("Sushi Shop") not far away. We also bought crepe mix at the Carrefour yesterday and have decided to try our hand at dessert crepes tonight.

"Can we fill them with fruit?" asks Soccer Dude.
"I want strawberries!" sings Little Angel.
"I think we should use that crepe pan," suggests The Scientist.
"Let's add whipped cream!" his little sister pipes up again.
"...and maybe a little chocolate for Daddy," winks Señor Aventura.

My stomach growls happily in anticipation.
Despite the downpour, it will be a good day.