I made it to Plan de la Tour! Can somebody airlift me out of here?

I rented a car for the week and decided to take a leisurely drive to Plan de la Tour and get a feel for the place in preparation for Johnny’s arrival, whenever that may be.   Unfortunately, when I went to pick up my reserved car with automatic transmission, I got “desole, nous n’avon pas les voitures automatique.”   I’m stuck with manual transmission, So “leisurely” is going to be out of the question.   But I’m going, dammit!

Perhaps it was stupid of me to think that getting to a small village in the Maures Massif (the small range of mountains where Plan de la Tour and Johnny reside)  wouldn’t involve driving up any hills.  I like to think of it as good old fashioned American optimism and can-do spirit.   The kind probably that inspired the Donner party to set off on their adventure.   They probably thought the squiggelly lines on their google map was just artistic license too.

View Larger Map

I make it out of Vidauban without a problem and find the road sign pointing the route to Plan de la Tour.   It looks pretty flat from here and I think I can manage it, so I cavalierly shift into 4th gear and get going.   About a mile down the road I notice that this road only has one lane.   And it’s getting steeper.  A few moments later,  I’m shifting into second gear and wondering how the hell I got on this mountain.

The view is heartbreakingly beautiful– rolling vibrant green hills dotted with wildflowers, laced with babbling brooks.   Heartbreakingly because I can’t look at it or I’ll go off a cliff.  Plus, I have to watch out for oncoming cars that may barrel around these hairpin turns.  One blink of an eye, one spectacular sight and I could be toast.   I’m sure there’s some greek tragedy in this horrible dilemna.   I refuse to enjoy this view.   I value life far too much!

I  consider turning around and going back, but the road is too narrow to pull a u turn and I’m not comfortable enough with my reverse skills on a one lane road when I’m reversing towards oblivion,  so I venture onward at about 10 miles per hour (in addition to being passed by several cars and trucks, I’m also passed by some bicyclists and a family of wild boar).

I find myself sucking in my stomach while crossing tiny bridges and driving by oncoming cars.   I also find myself saying “oh god, oh god, oh god” a lot.

I’ve got to say, Johnny Depp is genius to find a village this hard to reach.   Most of his stalkers are probably American women like me who can’t drive a stick shift.   Right about now, I’m considering changing my stalking affiliation to Brad Pitt.   His village, Brignoles is just off a nice, straight, flat roadway with lanes!).   Ahhh, but I never want what’s easy.

After about an hour and a half in second gear while riding the clutch and holding my breath, I finally pass the Plan de la Tours sign.   I’m at the top of a really windy hill/mountain, and there are a few homes…some with vineyards attached, some with “private” signs.   I’m sure one of them is Johnny’s but there’s an oncoming truck, so I really don’t care.  oh god, oh god, oh god.

A few more hairpin turns later and I’m at the old village of Plan de la Tours.   At the first bit of land that looks park-able, I sputter in and shudder to a stop…just in the nick of time…there’s yet another one lane bridge over yet another goddamn babbling brook ahead.

As I cross the bridge by foot, and explore the picturesque streets and look for signs of Johnny (there are none, except maybe one guy who looks like he’s wearing eyeliner ala Captain Jack Sparrow) I realize I have a huge problem on my hands.   How the hell do I get out of here?   There’s no way I’m driving back on that road of death I came over on.   And some of the other options google maps offered seem even more frightening.  And just because a road sign points to “Vidauban” doesn’t mean it’s the easiest, straightest path.   Nope.   I’m stuck here.

I find a nice spacious place to squat at a cafe called “Le Plan” (or is it “la” plan?)  in the Place de Mairie (townhall square).   I figure if I eat really slow, sooner or later I’ll figure out what to do.   Or maybe Johnny will show up and save me from all this.

So here I am, having a salade  nicoise (I know, boring).   Eating the kernels of corn (the French like to put corn in every salad) one kernel at a time.   Mulling my options.

I wonder if they have a nice bed and breakfast around here.  Somewhere I can afford to stay for an extended period until I figure out how to get out.  Or at least get to Johnny’s house.  Maybe he’ll let me stay there while he’s away if I promise to water his plants.

In the meantime, if you want to get in touch with me or send a helicopter, I’ll be at or around the Hôtel de Ville, Place Foch 83120, Le Plan de la Tour, France.

See more pictures of Plan de la Tour.

The lesson of the tiny hummingbird

According to Google alerts and my sister in law, Johnny is in California right now.   I’ve always been a go-getter, so I figure I’ll take a test run to Plan de la Tours by bus today.   Being familiar with the route should be helpful when he actually gets here.

I get to the bus stop at Place du Clemenceau and start thinking it’s really too nice of a day to be cooped up in a bus when there’s absolutely no chance of actually seeing Johnny Depp when I finally reach the destination.Come to think of it, there’s just as good a chance he’ll walk by one of the cafes here at Place du Clemenceau in Vidauban.  Why I don’t practice stalking him right here?

I stake out a spot in the square and keep my eyes pealed.

After three cappuccinos, some sort of flanny moussey tiramisuey thing with a dark chocolate shell that wasn’t my favorite even though it had so much potential,  I’m getting a little antsy.

But then something in a nearby planter catches my peripheral vision.   What looks like a large bee flitters in and out of the pansies.   I study it closely, trying to decide if I should flee.   As it flitters, the sun catches it and the tiny creature reflects different colors.   Then I see the beak and realize it’s a  hummingbird so tiny, a person could have swatted it thinking it was a fly!   I’m telling you, I’ve never seen anything like it!     I try to get a picture of it, but it’s too fast and too small and my hands are shaking from too much caffeine.

Granted, A tiny hummingbird sighting may be small consolation when the big prize is Johnny Depp and being invited to spend the summer in a wing of his villa.    I’m just trying to make the best of a difficult situation here.

the tiny hummingbird

When you think about it, today did provide a valuable lesson to this beginning stalker:   Don’t drink coffee on a stake out, because you’ll never get a good picture of your stalkee.  God, I’d be so bummed if that tiny hummingbird was Johnny Depp and this was the best picture I got of him.

You’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to stalk Johnny Depp

Today I went to the tourism office and asked the best way to get to Johnny Depp’s house (quelle est la meilleure manière d’arriver à Johnny Depp maison?).   I had to ask a few times because apparently, I was pronouncing “Johnny” wrong.

When she finally understood me, she gave me a stack of bus schedules.   I’m guessing Johnny has a car, because he happens to live in a village with incredibly limited public transport options.   There’s no train station and no direct bus  from Vidauban.  In fact, the only way I can get there is to take a bus or train to Les Arcs and then a bus to Plan de la Tour which only runs four, no wait, three times daily.

The first bus leaves at 6:45AM.   The second one leaves at 12:30PM.   The final one leaves at 18:25PM (which is a late start, even with daylight savings time starting soon).   Despite the fact that Plan de la Tour is only 8.7 miles away, the bus ride takes an hour (it makes several stops in Sainte Maxime, which I’m sure is lovely if I wasn’t in a hurry).  Worse, I have to coordinate the train/bus from Vidauban to Les Arcs which will increase my transit time.   It almost makes me wish I decided to stalk Brad Pitt, who is in Brignoles, which is far more accessible.   But the heart wants what the heart wants, and it isn’t Brad Pitt.

Obviously, in order to get a full day in, I should take the 6:45AM bus.   But that will require I get up at like 4:00AM to shower, shave my legs, put on make up and my fancy jeans, stock some provisions and get from Vidauban to Des Arcs.   Or maybe I get a pup tent and take the afternoon bus and sleep over by his driveway?   I’m going to have to give this some serious thought.

 

Getting closer

Even though I’m as sick as une chien, I’ve made some amazing progress towards my goal.   After studying the maps and coordinates I’ve learned something very useful.   All this time, I thought Johnny lives in this direction:

route north to Lorgues and Taradeau

It turns out, he actually lives in this direction:

route south east to Johnny Depp

This new bit of information should be very helpful when I’m feeling better.

 

Stalking through the pain

I refuse to dwell on the disappointment of not finding a lovely bag of cat litter from Johnny Depp waiting for me upon arrival.   I’m sure he was busy promoting Rango and I’ll have to accept that work will take him away from the region on occasion.   Fortunately, my landlords here in Vidauban were not promoting a major motion picture and the kitties were well taken care of when we got here.

I was planning to hit the ground stalking, but I seem to be coming down with a cold or fatal disease at the moment, so I’m going to take it easy for a few days.

However, I do plan to use the downtime to practice.   Today, I tested the efficacy of my iPhone camera while sitting on my terrace huddled in blankets drinking herbal tea.

The subject I’m test-stalking here is a neighbor’s house about 100 yards away.

This isn’t bad, but clearly I’ll either have get closer than 100 yards to get any sort of recognizable photo or use a camera with a more powerful zoom.   From here, it would still be difficult to tell the difference between Johnny and Russell Brand.   That simply won’t do.

If I’m not feeling better tomorrow, maybe I’ll try my video camera and see how that works.   But right now, I really need a nap.

 

Hey Johnny, could we borrow a few pounds of cat litter?

One of the many things I’ve been worried about is the fact that I arrive in Vidauban on a Sunday and all the stores will be closed. This is a minor problem for me, but a major one for my cats, who will have been traveling for 20 hours without the comforts of a litter box. When we get there we will need a nice clean box of litter waiting for them.

Johnny, since you’re the only person I know in the area, I was wondering if you could maybe drop off a bag of litter at my new place — 136 Traverse des Arbousiers, 83550 before our arrival on March 6th (ETA 3:30PM). It would be a nice neighborly thing to do and would get this whole stalking you thing off on the right foot.