Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Two pine - and not lemon - trees in Menton, France. (2008).
The promise of lemon trees, the annual Fête des Citrons (Lemon Festival) and the balmiest climate on the French Riviera lures me to Menton, a seaside town tucked away in the southeast corner of France. Cannes can wait another day, for juicy lemons are what I'm after this morning.
I envision lemons dropping on my head from mighty citrus trees. I imagine drinking tall bottles of bubbly Sprite - sans the pesky lime flavour. I foresee a zingier version of the famous tomato fight in Buñol, Spain, only with lemons zipping through the air and many an eyesight being mercilessly blinded in a fresh, lemon-scented wake.
Oh, it's going to be sweet. Or shall I say, it's going to be tart. Haha, "tart." Sometimes I kill myself.
What's not funny: when I get to Menton, there's nary a lemon to be seen. I mean, acrid dude, what gives? So happens the annual Lemon Festival isn't for another two weeks (see this previous post about my penchant for unplanned travel). But even worse, I don't see a lemon tree anywhere ... just rows and rows of boring orange trees.
Well, juice a lemon in my eye ... for Menton is no lemon town, in my opinion. Sure, the beach and water are lovely here, but I'm too sour to stick around. Besides, it's time for lunch, so on to the next town we go.
Blue skies over a lonely pine and the French Riviera in Menton, France. (2008).
Golden sand and turquoise water in Menton, France. (2008).
A seaside castle on the Mediterranean. Menton, France. (2008).
A view of Vieux Menton (Old Town). (2008).
Posted by dingobear at 15:15