Oh my goodness, Dianne. I will have to keep Dana, an extreme horse-lover, away from the Antibes market when we go. If I so much as tell her about this post, she'll find Antibes on a map of France and mark it in her mind as one of the most evil places on the planet. (I tried to put a row of snarly-faced Instant Graemlins here, but haven't reached that level of posting proficiency yet. Imagine them----)

Like you in Antibes, I had a wonderful time cruising the workshops and ateliers of artisans in many of the hill towns above Menton. Woodcarvers in Roquebrune, near Eze. Monsieur Mariani, a sculptor in Peillon, a cream-colored medieval city that hangs like a dream on the side of a mountain in the Alpes-Maritimes, had a collie who watched him work. But when the collie saw Dana, he glued himself to her side and became a kind of canine tour guide, leading us through the ancient cobbled streets, up, up to the top of the town, where he and Dana chased each other in a little church square.

Like your blue egg cup, a simple, special thing that helps color a journey.