When we lived in Paris, we experienced our first "Rentree," when summer ends and regular life takes over; when the rhythms of work and school dictate daily routines again, and the buoyant days of vacation give way to the realism of shopping, cooking, and meeting deadlines. 
In Paris, it meant a flood of returning holiday-makers, the re-opening of shops and restaurants, and the start of schools. We wondered what it would mean down here along the Riviera where so many French, German, Dutch and Russian families spend the month of August on vacation.
In Mougins, at least, it turns out that they celebrate with a Fete de la Rentree! We just happened to stroll into the old town for dinner with Suzanne and Ken and Sabine as the Fete was winding down, but the restaurants on the main square were filled with revelers, and the entire town was even more festive than usual. Despite the celebrations, real life sets in on the Cote d'Azur as it does elsewhere, with a diminished population along the Croisette in Cannes and a marked increase of cars heading from Valbonne to Sophia-Antipolis in the mornings. For us, la Rentree marks the start of real life here, too. Earlier in the summer six-year-old Jessie asked, "Do you think adventures are wonderful?" "Of course!" I replied, in full-on cheerful aunt mode. "Adventures are always wonderful." But now I'm starting to appreciate the complexity of Jessie's questions.
After all, in one of the most fanciful adventure stories ever written, the heroine has to deal with a fall down a rabbit hole; the inability to control her own body; a series of rude & inhospitable creatures; and a Queen who wants to behead her. Wonderful? Maybe not, even if the events do take place in Wonderland. Our adventure - which takes place in a wonderland of sorts -- entails immersing ourselves in French life, not always an easy task for foreigners. We tried to set up a bank account. Jeff kindly agreed to spare me the tedium of paperwork by spending the first hour alone with Monsieur Le Banker. But when I returned, ostensibly to counter-sign documents, the banker informed me gravely, "I have many, many questions, Madame, and it is always very difficult to open a bank account. Even for French people." We both sighed. And decided to put off the paperwork until another day. After all, we had visitors arriving, and Monsieur had to prepare for his upcoming two-week holiday.
Being a part of Luke's school/ tennis academy promises to be an adventure, too. We learned a few days ago that the students begin the school year with a mandatory two-day "initiation" camping trip.
After overcoming our initial resistance, we rushed out to buy the requisite sac de couchage, torche, etc. and tried to find out a few details like where they would be going and when they'd return. On Sunday, we learned that the kids would embark on a 25 K "run 'n bike," sleep in the woods and then spend today careening down the Verdon Gorge. An Australian woman, whose son is another one of the few native English speakers, confided in me, "The French don't have the same sense of looking after children that we do. Last year they lost two children in the woods for a few hours." So while Luke runs, camps and rafts down the Verdon River, I take a leap of faith... that they'll all make it back, safe & sound, at the alloted hour; that this will have been an exciting and positive experience; and that this particular adventure will turn out to be wonderful. P.S.
The boy returns! In fact, his group did get lost in the woods and ended up running/biking for an additional 15 K, making for a total of 40 K... but he says it was an awesome, once-in-a-lifetime experience. What more could we ask?
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