I went with Eric to yesterday's excursion to St. Tropez. We drove to Sainte Maxime, then took a ferry across the bay to St. Tropez because there are always traffic jams going into the village. We first visited the Musée de l'Annonciade. The museum, a converted 16th century chapel, features post-Impressionist art, including pointillism and fauvism. Zari is a great connisseur of art. She pointed at every female nude painting or sculpture and signed "nurse"! She also said "nurse" several times, which sounds like "na na."We ate the famous Tarte Tropézienne created by A. Micka--a round brioche filled with a creme anglaise and topped with rock sugar.
Zari napping in her stroller.
Splashing in the small beach in St. Tropez
In front of a modest 135' yachtSeriously, it's pretty disturbing to see the amount of wealth and privilege in this former fishing village. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be wealthy enough to own a yacht like this (which, in relation to the others around it, was on the small end) and to have a staff of servants. I concluded that I wouldn't like it. I mean, I just couldn't handle having someone else clean my toilet or wash my windows when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. I would always be painfully aware of the class differences in such a setting. What makes it fair for one person to lounge around in a 100+ foot yacht, sipping whatever glamorous drinks a rich person sips, while a crew of people--who work hard yet earn very little money--do menial tasks such as polishing the yacht's chrome handrails?