Happy Mother’s Day!
Happy Mother’s Day!
May 14th, 2012Glamour on a budget in Saint-Tropez
May 14th, 2012The views and opinions and of this posting are not necessarily those of Sherry’s Villa.
Simone Duckstein is perched on the medieval ramparts that surround the tiny harbour of Saint-Tropez, known as La Ponche, in a pose that mirrors the iconic 1950s photo of Françoise Sagan after she shot to fame with the publication of her novel Bonjour Tristesse. Madame Duckstein is the owner of the legendary Hôtel de la Ponche, where Sagan spent her holidays writing the novel. Now Duckstein has published her own book, Hôtel de la Ponche: Un Autre Regarde sur Saint-Tropez. The title is a reminder that one of the world’s most written-about destinations is not all about Russian oligarchs parking their helicopters on huge yachts or Hollywood celebrities ordering Dom Perignon in swanky nightclubs.
On first impressions, Saint-Tropez resembles a vast movie set, where Mini Mokes, Porsches and Harley-Davidsons roar by. Everyone shows off here – locals and tourists alike – from toddlers decked out in haute-couture outfits to glamorous grannies zapping around town on vintage Vespas. But 68-year-old Madame Duckstein refuses to accept this version of reality. “I have lived all my life here in the Hôtel de la Ponche,” she says, “and for me Saint-Tropez has not changed.” She warms to her theme: “Maybe the people coming here have changed, but the view from the Ponche is unaltered from the days before the Second World War, when my father ran this place as a simple fisherman’s bar.”
The Bar de la Ponche was transformed over the years into a small boarding house which has grown into an elegant 18-room hotel. The bar remains a hot rendezvous for early-evening cocktails, while the wonderful terrace overlooking Ponche bay is still teeming with people every lunch and dinner, but now as a gourmet restaurant serving traditional Provençale cuisine and freshly grilled fish.
The facade of the Hôtel de la Ponche is the epitome of discretion, resembling a family pension. But check in and you discover a labyrinth of small but luxurious rooms and suites named after the stars who have stayed here. The Romy Schneider loft suite has a sprawling terrace with the ultimate view over the red rooftops of Saint-Tropez, and you can even choose to sleep in the room where President Pompidou always stayed when on the Riviera. The staff seem to have been here for ever and treat guests as privileged family friends, despite the likes of Catherine Deneuve and Kylie Minogue having been among those guests.
Madame Duckstein insists that: “If tourists just keep away from the main shopping streets with their luxury boutiques and get lost in the narrow sidestreets, they’ll find old-fashioned butchers’ shops, our morning fish market, the boulangerie. You can’t stop mass tourism, you just have to live with it – and Saint-Tropez succeeds very well. For sure, in July and August everyone comes here to see and be seen, but look around today, in early springtime, and there are no crowds, especially in the evening when the day-trippers have gone home.”
Duckstein makes the point that Saint-Tropez was an elite resort long before the paparazzi arrived and spread its image around the world. At the turn of the last century, it was discovered by the impressionist painter Paul Signac, who bought a house here and was soon followed by Matisse, Picabia and Bonnard, while in the 1930s the likes of Tyrone Power, Clark Gable and Errol Flynn would drive here to escape the spotlight in Monaco.
“As a child,” Duckstein says, “I always remember Picasso, who used to sit for hours on our terrace sipping an anisette, as we had the best view over the bay. And then the crowd from Saint-Germain-des-Prés arrived – Juliette Gréco, Boris Vian, Jacques Prévert – and tried to turn La Ponche into a Café de Flore by the sea, even persuading my father to open a wild jazz club in the cellar.”
But the person who changed everything was Brigitte Bardot when she played the “sex kitten” in the 1956 film And God Created Woman. “Some of the most daring scenes of [director Roger] Vadim’s film were shot right here on the beach,” recalls Duckstein, “and the crew were always partying at the Ponche. Bardot was transformed overnight from a schoolgirl who used to come here on holiday with her parents into nothing less than a sex goddess, a siren who would dance a sensual mambo at the Bar de la Ponche. During filming she used our place as a changing room, thinking nothing of totally undressing in front of everyone. ‘Go and hide yourself,’ my father used to shout. And that was it. In one year, Saint-Tropez went from being an insider Riviera address to what Sagan famously described as the world’s favourite decadent resort.”
Someone who agrees with Madame Duckstein is Henry-Jean Servat, celebrity correspondent of Paris Match magazine, long-time confidant of Bardot and curator of a Bardot exhibition currently touring the US. “I have been coming here for 40 years,” he says, “and love it just as much today as the first time. I don’t think the real Saint-Tropez has changed at all. If you know the right people, get the right invitations to their sublime houses and yachts, then you don’t need to see what goes on out in the streets. From the decadent 1960s this has been a capital of debauchery – everything that was illegal, well, you could find it here: le parfum de l’interdit, the seductive aroma of the illicit. Anything goes in Saint-Tropez, the best and the worst, and that is what makes it so special. It can be vulgar and distinguished, aristocratic and nouveau riche at the same time.”
Certainly Saint-Tropez has lost none of its appeal, none of its glitz and none of the crowds. Walk past the flashy VIP Room and the club’s wall is festooned with snapshots of everyone from Kate Moss and Rihanna to Karl Lagerfeld, Bono and Lady Gaga. Every fashion designer is desperate to open a boutique here, and the unofficial king of luxe, Bernard Arnault – head of Louis Vuitton, Dior and Krug, among others – has just bought his own exclusive hotel, White 1921, which will open in June as the latest hot address in town. Arnault had been looking to buy somewhere here for a while – somewhere with history – and had tried to persuade Madame Duckstein to part with her beloved Hôtel de la Ponche. “But I would never sell,” she says. “I’d die if I didn’t have the Ponche and Saint-Tropez.”
Another local character who also refuses to sell is Patrice de Colmont, owner of Club 55. As I arrive at the idyllic Plage de Pampelonne, every luxury car imaginable is lined up in the car park. But Patrice hastens to assure me that Club 55 is not just a members-only joint and that “everybody is welcome, we never refuse… for the first time”.
This corner of the beach was bought 50 years ago by his father, an explorer who was “living in a boat house like Robinson Crusoe”. Then, says Patrice, “our life, like everyone else’s in Saint-Tropez, changed when Vadim and Bardot started filming And God Created Woman. My mother cooked food for the film crew, and Club 55 was born.
“We still only open at lunchtime, but on a good day we will serve more than 1,000 people. This is one of the world’s most beautiful beaches – not a EuroDisney for adults – a precious heritage, and I believe it should be left alone at night to relax and recover, and not be transformed into a trashy venue for a nightclub that you can see all along the coast.”
The land here is obviously worth a small fortune, so I ask de Colmont if he is tempted to sell. “Well,” he replies, “I haven’t found anyone yet rich enough to offer me a price that may persuade me to sell!”
There are many more characters like Patrice de Colmont and Simone Duckstein, and while they stay, there will still be “another view” behind the facade of Saint-Tropez.
Simone Duckstein’s Hôtel de la Ponche: Un Autre Regarde sur Saint-Tropez is published by Le Cherche Midi at £19.70
Essentials
Ryanair (ryanair.com) flies from Stansted to Toulon from £36.99 one way. Hôtel de La Ponche, 3 rue des Remparts (0033 494 970 253; laponche.com). Doubles from €195 in low season, €320 in July and August.Club 55, Plage de Pampelonne, (0033 494 555 555; club55.fr)
SAINT-TROPEZ WITHOUT BREAKING THE BANK
Residents for more than 20 years, Serge and Nicole Malapelle run the Basilic Burger (Place des Remparts, 0033 494 972 909), with a set menu for €15. “There are some surprising, reasonable addresses hidden away here,” says Serge, “such as Kom’O Japon (1 Rue des Charrons, 0033 494 951 263), which has the freshest fish for their sushi and sashimi, and where dinner will cost €20-25. For a romantic evening, drive just out of town to La Pomme de Pin (Route du Pinet, Quartier de Tahiti, Ramatuelle, 0033 494 977 370), which has a beautiful garden and excellent grilled fish, with main dishes at €15. And after our restaurant closes, we always have a late-night crêpe suzette at Grand Marnier (10 Rue des Remparts, 0033 494 970729), flambéed by Chef Robert and well worth €3.20.”
Laurent Moine is a musician and waiter working at the Italian beach restaurant Zanzibar (Les Tamaris, Plage de Pampelonne, 0033 673 847 014), where you can get a pizza or huge plate of pasta for €10-12.
“Le Sporting (42 Place des Lices, 0033 494 970 065) is the last authentic brasserie left in Saint-Tropez,” says Laurent, “where all the locals hang out – it is our own canteen. Each lunchtime the chef comes up with a new €12 plat du jour, which could be hachis parmentier, the French version of shepherd’s pie, or a Provençale daube de boeuf stew.”
Tuesday and Saturday is market day in Saint-Tropez, held in the pretty Place des Lices, and you can order a hearty portion of paella for €6 or pick out a tasty selection of Provençale stuffed vegetables at the irresistible De l’Olive à la Tapenade stall. For the rest of the week, the Lou Pistou (Place des Lices, 0033 494 976 226) is a reasonably priced delicatessen for a takeaway picnic, and the Charcuterie Tropezienne (9 Rue de la Misericorde, 0033 494 972 561) is a butcher that stocks home-made pâtés and sausages.
guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010
Published via the Guardian News Feed plugin for WordPress.
Ethical living: what’s happened to charity clothing banks?
May 2nd, 2012The views and opinions of this posting are not necessarily those of Sherry’s Villa.
Over the past 20 years the rag-and-bone trade has had a makeover. Phase one was triggered by the rise of fast-fashion consumerism, when we bought in bulk at low cost and discarded clothes quickly. The lion’s share of our cast-offs was slung into landfill (900,000 to 1.2m tonnes a year still ends up there), but the portion we donated to charities put huge pressure on their recycling systems, not least because the clothing was of very low quality. Despite being barely worn, it was hard to sell to British consumers, especially when they could buy new from the high street for the same price. Swamped by old vest tops, many charities turned to private waste processors to do their recycling and sell it to developing countries, receiving a percentage of profits. But the charities still owned the bins and banks. On average, a bag of donated clothes processed in this way earns a charity around £7.
We have now entered phase two. Recyclers report a slight drop in donations, and old clothes command record prices. Some cash-strapped councils have also called time on free pitches for charity clothing bins. Yours is one of these. It has been replaced by collections for private waste contractors. Some will give a percentage of proceeds to charities, but this is substantially smaller than if the charity controls the bin itself.
If you can’t beat them, join them. That seems to be the mantra of the Salvation Army (SATCoL is its clothing recycling division), which has just splashed out on a textile sorting company, Kettering Textiles, in order to have 100% control.
Not every charity has the funds and knowledge to do this. They are in a battle for your old threads. Warring factions include cash-for-clothes collections which bypass charities and high-street fashion companies re-using clothing, fibres and scraps. This makes sense when prices for raw materials such as cotton are so high, and it is a bit of an eco victory.
But our hearts go out to the charities. Profits from donated clothes are already lost to bogus collectors and now their cash cow is pursued by all manner of fibre hunters. So next month a consortium of 7,000 shops launches a Choose Charity Shops campaign, urging us to take clothes straight into the store. Most donated clothes will be sold to the huge secondhand clothing markets in developing countries, but it keeps the charity of your choice in the game.
Green crush of the week
The earth has an extraordinary defender in eco explorer Pen Hadow. His expeditions, including a 2003 solo trek from Canada to the Geographic North Pole (he’s the only man to have done this), have contributed significantly to environmental and climate science. In preparation for another record-setting polar exploit and scientific survey in 2013, he is doing an eco ultramarathon (as ambassador for the Royal Parks Foundation) in October. For the man who has swum through ice and hauled sledges for 1,200km it will surely be a walk in the park.
penhadow.com
guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010
Published via the Guardian News Feed plugin for WordPress.
