Postcard: Two Views of Saint Tropez

Now is just about the time when sleepy Saint Tropez really starts to swing. To get into the mood, I usually watch And God Created Woman or Bonjour Tristesse, just to get that perfect bit of color, cypress, sea, and rock that is quintessentially South of France.

Since the town is clearly named for some Saint, I looked it up only to find a wild story about a Saint Torpes of Pisa, who was converted to Christianity by St. Paul during the reign of Nero. When Nero asked him to renounce his faith, he refused, so Nero (being Nero) had him beheadded. Torpes' body was placed in a rotten boat with a rooster named Cogolin and a dog named Grimaud, and set out to sea from Pisa. But, miracle of miracles, the body of St. Torpes did not sink, nor did it get ravaged by the hungry dog and rooster act. Instead, the boat landed in St. Tropez, not far from the current location of the sailor's cemetary there. The rooster and dog departed, and now their names grace nearby towns. St. Torpes is now one of the patron saints of sailors, while the entire Mediterranean coast is rife with legends of things (and creatures) being washed ashore in boats.

There is nothing quite like a day in Saint Tropez. The cafes offer a passing parade of wealth and fashion, while the line of yachts in the old port seems to be endless. The deep ochres and saffrons of the stucco buildings catch the sunlight, in perfect contrast to the deep blue of the water. And over all of it, the wild peacocks perch on the hill and voice their sharp screeches of welcome.

Easy, simple, and utterly glamorous.