Our day trip to the oceanside town of Cassis had been highly anticipated by members of our party. Even my brother, who was not on the trip, had been regularly accosted at the gym by a man who insisted that we visit Les Calanques (the cliffs). So we set out early in hopes of finding parking, which was brutal--worse than Wrightsville beach on a summer day.
We wanted to see the calanques by kayak, so we headed out to on foot to Calanque de Porte Miou, about a half-hour's walk. We'd been warned that the water was rough, but by the time we arrived, the kayak rentals had closed. We were disappointed, but looking at the water, I was relieved not to be in a kayak in those waves.
As we sat by the water, we watched a couple jump off the rocks nearby. I feared they'd need rescuing when they tried to climb out, but they got out OK, and then they jumped again. Ah, youth! We, however, were not so brave, so we trudged back down to Cassis, past the fancy houses, hotels, and private beach clubs. This one on the right was called "Same Same Beach."
At lunch, we applauded Ethan for trying steak tartare, and he did a credible job with it. We sat right by the harbor and gazed at the boats. It was very picturesque, but we were a little downtrodden from our futile trek to Porte Miou, and our feet hurt, and we weren't sure what else to do with our time in Cassis. Maybe we had expected too much? By the way, if you ever want to kayak in Porte Miou, there's plenty of parking.
We had our bathing suits, so we decided we'd better spend some time on the beach. After all, we were already there. It seemed proper to find a small square, spread out our towels, and observe just how small and rocky the beach was, how many people crowded around us, and how rough the water was--truthfully, I spent a few moments remembering the NC beaches and feeling amazed and grateful at how beautiful they are in their own right.
Others in our party were lost in their own reveries; Keith went for a swim, Matthew was miserable and Mindy managed to stay cheerful through it all. She kept us all afloat that day!
After a suitable amount of time missing home, we went in search of the Route des Crêtes, a road that took us to the highest seaside cliffs in the Mediterranean. Somehow, we found the right way and drove way up to the high, windy and desolate cliffsides. It was so windy that even driving freaked me out. But looking down, we saw Cassis with the harbor and everywhere we'd just been, which was a nice conclusion to the day.
Friday was our last full day in the house in Lourmarin. We posed with our empty bottles, cleaned out the fridge, and packed our acquisitions. Or just relaxed ourselves.
OK, not all of these were taken on 7/15. I'm putting some of my favorite house photos in this post for a final homage to our lovely home-for-two-weeks. 
My favorite moments happened when meals were effortless. The table set itself, and magically filled up with tomatoes, peaches, 5 - 6 cheeses, olive bread, maybe leftover chicken. Boys poured wine. 
Two weeks were necessary for us to settle into the house, to find our favorite spots, to learn when to swim and when to open all the doors and let the breezes through. 
