Winter is becoming very long, as long as the last time I updated my blog, and we are really fed up of the cold. Our region does bathe us with a lot of sunshine & grants us the bluest skies during winter but behind the sun & the blue sky, there is le mistral.
The locals in the south of France would tell you that one day you will hate the wind. And I did. Especially for the past few days when it was blowing at around 110km/h. Just imagine a signal #2 storm back home in the Philippines, only with no rain but a big bright sun. Only the mistral is a non-stop photo shoot that sometimes lasts for more than a week at the height of winter, a roaring mother earth knocking impatiently on your windows & doors.
Tramontane in the south-west of France, mistral in the Provençe & Côte d'Azur, is a cold & violent northwesterly wind along the south of France. An accumulation of air in the Alps, gushing the Rhône Valley at a speed of up to 160km/h until it reaches the Mediterranean Sea. More frequent during winter & spring, it occurs less often during summer. Mistral comes from the French Provençal word, maestral & in Latin, magister meaning "master."
The mistral is very significant in my region. Weather forecast can classify the mistral in 4 colors, red being "very violent." It is truly vicious especially during winter. It can make one irritable & often giving headaches when you stay out too long, having an impression that your head is "full of air." It is also believed that it can make people crazy since it can last for more than a week.
Marseille is particularly the mistral's main road to the sea. In our little barrio, situated right by the Blue Coast & 40km west of Marseille, you can visibly experience the power of the mistral. There is a place where the wind violently passes the most, like a principal canal, located just in the center town. You will see old people with bowed heads, bodies arched, walking hand in hand resisting the wind to get to their destination. I do exactly the same, struggling to get to the next lamp post & hold on for my dear body weight. After 4 years of living here, I have discovered new paths to avoid this evil canal. Yesterday, I had to brave the mistral to fix our cat's bridge since I didn't want to leave him out for the night. The big trash cans in the parking just beside our building flew right in the middle. I imagine them swirling around. The sea with a white surface. The mistral that makes me mumble curses in my 20 meter walk to the boulangerie.
Why the mistral occurs more in the winter is like sprinkling salt on a fresh wound. Chapped lips, red & wounded noses. It is why the south of France is abundant of sunshine & blue skies - the mistral is blowing away the rain clouds that comes from le vent de la mer, the sea breeze. During summer, we have occasional mistral winds that cools a too hot day. But cooling by swimming in the sea is out of the question. The mistral chills the sea water's temperature up to 15 degrees. I practically developed a notion of the wind's speed because of the mistral.
The mistral is part of knowing the south of France, a significant but silent role. Behind the sun, there is a violent wind. Behind the wind, there are grouchy Provençals.
