I had no idea how to pronounce it. Hee-ers? Ay-er? Turns out it’s Ee-air, like the French word “hier.” In true French form, only 50% of the letters in the word are actually pronounced.
I wasn’t there to be a tourist. I was just there to hang out with my cousins, who I never get to see. It didn’t feel like over a year since we’d seen each other, and it didn’t feel like it would be the last time in a while, even though it was. I almost always seem to miss family reunions, due to the whole living in France thing.
Technically, it wasn’t vacation time – it was post-rentrée – but it was my last little weekend of summer. In September. Last year. I am the slowest blogger ever. EVER.
We were hosted by a lovely family who showed us the beach and the market and fed us breakfast outside on the patio. We tried pastis which I kind of hate. I looked everywhere for Savon de Marseille which I love to buy in Côte d’Azur territory, but I couldn’t find any. I did find a nice spoon-rest though, so there’s that.
Hyères reminded me a little of my hometown, if my hometown were French. Both are little tourist towns on the coast and the population doubles in the summer. The town center is full of charm and souvenir shops. The kind of place where people retire or go on a family vacation.
I didn’t do much exploring that weekend. Just talking, eating, playing interpreter. Instagramming, of course. (“But why are you arranging the breakfast table? Can I eat my croissant now?”)
But Hyères didn’t seem like the kind of place you go to do stuff. It just seems like a good place to be.