Would I consider a wood slab for my new dining room table? No way, I thought, remembering the lumpy dust-catchers from my college days. And so I was shocked at the stunning, sleek, unique designs at Urban Hardwood in San Francisco. Alas – no matter what the wood, the prices are mammoth. But probably worth it if you can afford it – or just seeing them if you can’t.

Sometimes life is a straight line; but rarely!

Such was the case when I was offered a painting commission in a three-story villa in a tiny village in the south of France. Carcés, just north of Marseille.

The adventure was about as squiggly as a line could get. If I had been there simply to paint — that would be one thing. There was too much life happening in the village of Carces to sit still. I’d like to share a few of my experiences here with you.

That’s how Niya’s stories start … Get ready for an enchanting journey. Pour yourself a glass of French wine. Settle in and meet the pizza man and a pink-haired bartender. And enjoy ancient country vines, a giant rabbit, and the king of the villa—a love-sick freckled dog.

My Hero—The Pizza Man 

Outskirts of Laval FR

Imagine a Yugo on a whirling dervish freeway, a stubborn redhead, language challenged redhead, determined to see at least four south of France towns in a day but forgot the map. This is a recipe for disaster in France!

Between Carcés and Aix Provence I didn’t take the right exit and drove a full hour before finding another exit—and forget about a pit stop. I imagined becoming road kill by way of angry driver’s. After three hours of that nonsense my brain and bladder were full and my gas tank and hopes going on empty.

Finally, somewhere around a port near Marseille I found a very nice gas station man playing solitaire on top of his round belly. He laughed at my sign language that tried to fill in quickly for what I couldn’t say in French. I laughed at the cards falling off his stomach as he laughed. He didn’t see the humor in it. He wanted to tease me about my freckles, so I let him. Anything to get help! He did…help, that is.

By 10 p.m. I was lost again finding my way back to Carcés. There is no way I can tell you how. It seemed that a prism of twilight zones engulfed me; night monsters.

Okay, so, have you ever been so hungry you wanted to eat the buttons off your shirt and pretend they are hard candy? I needed food bad. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be lost.

I rounded the corner into the village of Laval and smelled wood smoke steaming from the pizza truck on a remote corner (very remote) at 10 p.m. A little New York moment in the middle of a village of 250 people.

I dragged my scrappy, lost, hungry ass up to the long line. A long line in the middle of nowhere, I was thrown.

He must have known because he bumped the people ahead of me and produced the best thin crusted pizza I’ve ever tasted quickly. Without taking my order, he handed it to me.

And then asked for my phone number.

…………………………………………………………

 The ‘Hot Pink’ Haired Bartender

Carcés. In the village

Morning coffee… that was the most important thing after laying around that first morning listening to the soft winds of the Mediterranean sea.

I could have made coffee in the kitchen of the villa. But why do that when I could take my morning mug —no pun intended— to the bar and hang out with drunks and coffee goers? And then there was the bartender. Her hair reflected bright and pink on the walls of the café. She was laughing at me before I even opened my mouth.

I believe we learn more about ourselves when in messy and foolish situations and she took every opportunity to polish my belief.

The story goes like this:

I ordered a double cappuccino. She served me two espressos. For three days we repeated the same ritual. I sat outside near the old man who always sat outside the bar and never smiled. We regarded each other like two morning insect stalking the day. He was adorable. Finally, after practicing my French at the villa in the afternoons, I said to the pink haired woman, Peux j’avoir un double cappuccino?

Everyone laughed.

A man in the bar began translating for me. I told him she had served me two espressos when I meant a double cappuccino. This made the pink haired bartender laugh very hard, and the locals piled in from the excitement.

She repeated the story four times in the thirty minutes I was there. It became routine— every time she saw me she told this story; people laughed. Weren’t they bored with it?

And I thought Starbucks was complex.

…………………………………………………………

 Curled Old Vines

Driving from Carcés, FR to Laval

Driving to Laval, I came upon an old family vineyard. I was taken by the old gnarly vines, the slanted little house in the distance the color of cinnamon, charcoal and ink. And the vines still grew grapes. There was a time when family futures rested under the skins of those grapes; the centrifugal force of wine. Those thick vines knew people; they knew families over the generations.

I stopped the car and thought about the families who worked the red dirt, stacked the rock walls to protect their vestige — the aqueducts laced with traces of mineral and bilge.

I got out of the car, I wanted to take my imagination to the next level. I walked towards the slanted old house romantically swaying to scenes of how it must have been; the smell of baking bread — sounds of laughter as children crushed the grapes with their feet.

But those French drivers… they didn’t like where I was parked. Not at all!

They drove their tiny European cars like they were Steve McQueen at the Le Mans Track. They honked and cussed at me as they drove by.  They were scary and…they looked silly.

They were little French cars with Napoleon complexes.

 …………………………………………………………………….

City Rabbit

Sidewalk near the Mediterranean Sea. Nice, France

Alex the rabbit had a very big face. I noticed him immediately as I walked from the beach to have lunch at a nearby restaurant.

On the streets, he was all set up with food and a blanket. He was grooming his ma ma’s hand like there was no tomorrow. 
I sat with her and we talked in broken French.
 She had adopted Alex when he was a baby. 
She was sick and too weak to work. 
She was cared for by the hospitals without money because 
it was Europe.

She was lovely.

I didn’t walk, I ran to the ATM for her. But when I returned she had visitors. A business man in a pressed suit sat with her on the dirty ground. His dog had the exact markings of the rabbit. The rabbit and dog hung out, sniffed, played a bit. No fear. It seemed the woman and rabbit were in good company.

People stopped and enjoyed the moment. They laughed, they left money, they left food.

It was a good moment, invented by a good rabbit, I am certain of it. The Oz behind the curtain, called Alex, seeing what magic could be made when people’s expectations are cracked open, just a tad.

……………………………………………………

Freckled Dog. King of the Villa

Streets of Carcés FR.

He was everywhere… the spotted homeless, dog. He ran the streets. He had a slight limp to his gait.

He especially liked the mornings when everyone was out shopping for their food, flowers, pastries, coffee.

He was busy. He would regard me but wasn’t in much of a mood to hang out or hug on the streets. In fact, he acted like I was interrupting him in an important mission.

He was busy.
I think he wanted a girlfriend. Probably, the black French poodle I saw hang out near the bakery. Did he see a version of himself in her? If all his spots ran together, would he be as magnificent?

Until the day he earned her love he ran her errands. He kept his hope alive. He stole bones for her from the French butcher’s shop when they were distracted chatting it up with customers and friends.

He did his duty. Someday she would accept him completely. This is what I hoped for him.

How could she resist?

……………………………………………………

Niya Sisk is a new media storyteller. She believes stories have their own compass—form that is served by the tools and media channels available. Whether it’s a visual narrative, a novel or film, the dynamics of crafting the story is where Niya lives. She’s the author of Bragging Bantering Bawling story collection and Po’Bird, an illustrated children’s book. She is also the founding editor of Curly Red Stories online literary journal, with features the work of —and interviews with—more than 24 flash fiction writers.

Niya received her MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts and a certificate in screenwriting from UCLA School of Theatre, Film and Television. You can find her at Niyasplace.com

It was blamed for driving van Gogh to cut off his ear. It gets credit for inspiring Freud, Hemingway, and the painter Toulouse-Lautrec. It was considered so dangerous it was banned until 1990, and some brands are still not allowed into the United States. The hysteria surrounding “La Fee Verte,” as absynthe was called, compares to that around “Reefer Madness.” The Wormwood Society, an organization that provides scientific and historical information about absynthe, calls it the most maligned and misunderstood drink in history.

It tastes a little like ouzo and makes a fine-enough cocktail, with names like “In-Seine” and “Absynthe Minded.” But its real allure comes from the mystique dating back to the salons and cafes of turn-of-the century Europe, the escapades of the artists and rebels who made it part of their lives, and the rituals around its consumption.

It’s this dark allure that lives on in the little shop “Gruener Engel,” just a block from the main tourist street with its brightly lit chain stores. Inside, you feel like you’ve been dropped off by the magic carriage from Midnight in Paris. The lighting is dim, there are old-time wooden cabinets with rows of bottles, art-deco “fountains” for preparing the louche concoction, slotted silver spoons for dissolving the sugar; you almost feel you’re doing something forbidden just being there. But then a nice kid-next-door type will appear to tell you all about the history and ingredients of various brands—and the impostors.

When you’re ready to emerge back to the light of day and the 21^st century, try Café Burkhart just down the street for a nice meal, great cake, charming surroundings, and another surprise—a back door to a museum.

Map

Stift Neuburg welcomes guests. Photo: Immanuel Giel

With some 4 million tourists descending on Heidelberg each year, few know they can stay at a medieval monastery that’s a world away but still close to it all. Apparently the 6th-century Rule of St Benedict commands that monasteries should always have guests (who knew), so if life calls for a few soul-soothing days in quiet, idyllic surroundings, check it out. If you like, you can eat, pray, and work with the monks.

Expect simplicity – but not self denial. There’s a first-rate brewery and restaurant on the grounds after all. To find out about staying there for yourself or a small group, call +49 6221 895-122 or try this email address Gaestehaus@abtei-neuburg.de. When I called, I was told they could accommodate English-speaking guests. And yes, women are now welcome as well.

Stift Neuburg is also a great destination after a hike through the hills, with stunning views of the city and the Neckar river below. Kids can pet the animals and everyone can enjoy the grounds, the beer, and the restaurant’s treats, such as trout from the monastery’s own pond.

Map

Stift Neuburg is just one of many monasteries that offers lodging throughout Europe – at prices far below hotels and sometimes even hostels. It’s a tradition that dates back centuries, although many of the guest houses are no longer run by the monks or nuns. For many religious communities, offering rooms and making available the produce, meat, or beer produced on the grounds is now an economic necessity to maintain the sites and the life of the community.

Unlike Stift Neuburg, most aren’t so close to a city; for example, the stunning monastery Benediktbeuren is about half an hour from Munich. But with an easy train connection, famous tourist destinations nearby, and plenty of stressed-out Munich residents, it’s already booked nearly a year in advance.

But my personal favorite is Mont Saint-Odile in France, near the German border, high in the mountains near Strassbourg. Named after Alsace’s patron saint, it’s perched on top of a huge rock outcropping, with panoramic views of the entire countryside. It dates back to the 8th century and is also famous for the so-called pagan wall that was built at least 2,5000 years ago. Nobody knows why, but during the 4-hour hike on the path along the wall, you’ll feel its magic. From the monastery, there’s also a path that goes to an ancient fountain with “miracle water” for eye problems (alas, I’m still wearing my glasses).

The story has it that Odile, the blind daughter of the Duke of Alsace in the 7th century, was ordered killed by her father and hidden by her mother in a convent. When she was christened at 12, she miraculously was able to see and returned home. More family intrigues led to her fleeing when her father tried to marry her off and she was able to escape when a rock opened to hide her. Finally convinced she was special, he gave her Castle of Hohenbourg, which she turned into the monastery. There’s now the Chapel of Tears, where she’s said to have cried and prayed for her father in purgatory.

Staying in a monastery

For a list of monasteries in Germany, here’s how to order a brochure (in German). Booking in Italy is even easier with the English site monestarystays. And in France, this book gives an overview of the possibilities. For a list of other things to consider, check out Leyla Giray’s great article about staying in monasteries.

The 3 designers at Mission Statement. Photo: Elisabeth Carr

Last weekend my mom was bragging about the fact that she finished her Christmas shopping two weeks ago. Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit that “get it out of the way early” gene and I’m still stuck with a long lists of gifts to buy. I can’t bear the thought of the Union Square madness so this weekend I’ll be hitting up these Mission stores for unique, local gifts to put under the tree.

The Mission Statement: This designer co-op is the perfect one-stop-shop for everyone on your list. Delicious INNA Jams for foodies, vintage ties and Estrella Tadeo menswear, delicate Vanessa Gade jewelry, and fashion-forward women’s clothing by Sofie Olgaard.

Pot & Pantry: Forget Williams Sonoma and Sur La Table. Pot & Pantry carries new and gently used kitchenware at a great price. I’ve been eying a heart-shaped Le Creuset in there for a while now.

The Curiosity Shoppe: Another store with a wide range of gifts, especially for people who like things that are unique and a little quirky. (Crocheted Jellyfish Specimen, anyone?)

Mira Mira: I normally shop here for myself, but lately I’ve seen some great women’s gifts at Mira Mira like cute totes, fun socks, sparkly jewelry, and elegant scarves.

Unionmade: This would be my absolute favorite store in in San Francisco, if only they sold women’s clothing. However the emphasis on men’s clothing makes it the perfect place to shop for the traditionally difficult males on my list. Unionmade also have a great selection of Pendleton blankets and unisex accessories like scarves and Filson luggage.

Those in the know say there are more than 600 murals across San Francisco—and I bet the Mission tops any murals-per-mile record around. New murals pop all the time, like magic when the fog lifts. And for those that are fading, a group of artists is dedicated to restoring them.

The murals in the Haight and the Mission in particular reflect the rich cultural and ethnic heritage of those neighborhoods. You can see the most – and some of the best – murals in the Mission, within an eight-block walk that starts at the 24^th St Bart station and includes the Balmy, Lucky, and Horace alleys. Intensely colorful, whimsical, and often political, the murals bring to life the struggles and joys of the Latino population that has called this neighborhood home.

To see the Mission murals, your best bet is to start at Precita Eyes Cultural Center. For five dollars, you can pick up a map for your own walking tour. Or better yet, join one of their walking or bike tours and learn about the artists and the history of each mural. In addition to helping people discover the treasures on the walls, garage doors, and along the fences of the Mission’s streets and alleys, Precita Eyes provides a community for artists, offers art classes for children and adults, and is a great place to find unique gifts.

NOTE: Heard from friends that the area around the slides is trashed and that the slides are closed! I’ll update when they (hopefully) reopen.

Finding hidden stairways is a great San Francisco pastime and these stairs really are pretty hidden. What’s unique about them is that you don’t have to walk all the steps; just slide between the upper and lower level. At the top you’ll find a lush garden that’s maintained by the neighborhood, while the concrete slides in the lower portion are definitely from another time. Hint: Bring plastic trays for the fastest ride. It’s a great treat for kids and at the end a day of sightseeing, shopping, or eating in the Castro or in Noe Valley.

Map

Appetizers to get you in the mood

It’s an oasis on the bustling campus. A rock band in the plaza below. Kids running around with hot dogs, oblivious to the dishy delights so close to them. The entrees were tasty, but it’s the chocolate cherry bread I’ll dream about forever. In addition to what’s on the menu, student chefs are on standby to flambé a tart-du-jour right by your table. But not after that chocolate bread.

Pierre Coste serves lunch daily – on Friday there’s live music as well. It’s worth checking out if you’re in the vicinity of Daly City at lunchtime. But don’t forget to pay your 3 dollars in the self-pay machines in the parking lot. Rumor has it that lookouts are ready to swoop in and ticket you the second you leave the lot.

The organ’s best at high tide, but any time you come you’ll find a unique and usually secluded place with great views in addition to the sounds of the sea. Here’s more information about the wave organ, including an audio slide narrated by its creators for a sneak preview:

San Francisco's wave organ - Photo: Jutta Diemath