The Trail's Our Thing

The swimming pool and our view of Bonnieux

After two perfect days in Burgundy, this morning we began our drive to Provence. We wound our way on smaller roads east to Lyon, then hit the autoroute and headed south. The autoroute was packed today, making me very nervous. There were more trucks than I ever remember seeing on the French roads, and every fourth vehicle seemed to be a camper of some sort. Most drivers seemed to be very much in a hurry. I was anxious to get to Provence, but I didn't want to spend the next few hours with my heart racing in fear.

“Please slow down,” I begged Charley. “I don’t want to wreck before we get to Provence!” He's always an extremely careful driver, but I appreciated that he backed off a bit and moved into the right lane. I relaxed and enjoyed the drive again.

Later we learned that the trucks had been restricted from the autoroute over what was a peak travel weekend in July. Instead they all joined us on the autoroute today.

The scenery became more mountainous and then more rugged. France is so beautiful and there is so much dramatic variety in the landscape. And then finally—Provence! Home! We were less than an hour away. We all perked up, paying attention to the Drôme, a part of Provence we haven’t visited yet. (We plan to come back on a day trip in a few weeks.) At Avignon we paid our toll and left the autoroute—we were back in very familiar territory… less than 30 minutes to go.

Finally we made the turnoff to Bonnieux (there it was on the hill!), and a few minutes later we were bouncing down the gravel road to our friends’ house. Our friends’ daughter came running out to greet Kelly and then us. Kiss, kiss, kiss. We were back in the Luberon.

The 12th century Abbaye de Sénanque, the most recognizable image of Provence

For all that we love the Luberon, until this week we’ve never really seen the lavender.

We first visited Provence in early June 2003. As we left Saignon headed toward our final night on the Côte d’Azur, we saw just a hint of distinctive color on the tips of the lavender plants on the plateau above Saignon.

We’ve seen many fields of lavender in the autumn, winter and spring: rounded clumps of pale green in long manicured rows, often in very isolated, mountainous spots. But we’d never seen the lavender fields of Provence in full bloom: those dramatic masses of bright purple that captivate so many of us in guidebooks, coffee table books, and picture postcards.

Field near Murs

Charley drove our friends to the airport in Marseille at 7:30 am, and I began my long, hot day as a French washerwoman.

Our friends have a laundry room in a “cave,” down through a narrow courtyard between two sections of the house and right next to the other cave that houses their wine cellar. As European laundry facilities go, I definitely can’t complain. “Notre buanderie est superbe”: a large and cool stone room, a relatively-new washing machine, an equally new dryer (unusual in Europe!), a stone sink, a table for folding clothes, an iron and ironing board, and (important!) a large drying rack.

Hard at work in la buanderie

A leisurely breakfast with Dennis and Gloria

A month or so after we came to Provence for our long stay in 2004/2005, we went walking in the Colorado Rustrel with our friend Kevin, his son, and his parents who were visiting from America.

“How do you know Kevin?” his mother asked, as she and I walked together through colorful ochre pathways of the Rustrel. It was clear that our two families were already very good friends.

“I met him on the Internet,” I replied.

His mother did a double take, shocked I’m sure that her married son in France had hooked up with a married woman in America on the internet—and that our spouses approved. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized I felt a bit uncomfortable too. It sounded like something a teenager would say, or a pathetic lonely heart, or someone pursuing a secret life.

The north slope of the Grand Luberon (east of Apt)

We’ve come to Provence this time with a list of things we want to do, some new places to see, another layer to uncover. This area is so rich with opportunities for new experiences, especially in the summertime.

Today we placed a partial check against one of the items on our list: “See more of the Grand Luberon.”

We know much of the Calavon valley well: the valley between the Luberon mountains and the Vaucluse Plateau to the north. We’ve visited many of the villages on the northwest side of the Petit Luberon numerous times: Bonnieux, Lacoste, Menerbes, Oppède, Goult, Roussillon, Gordes, St. Saturnin, and Saignon. Because of our walking, we also know many of the lesser-known villages and small hameaus (hamlets) in this area. But we’ve explored the area east of Apt only a couple of times. It’s a different landscape, a narrower space, dominated by the massive Grand Luberon mountain. Today we decided to head that way to see another part of Provence.

Kelly, Michel and the birthday cake

Charley and I are now the proud parents of a beautiful teenage daughter.

Today is Kelly’s 13th birthday. People always tell her what a lucky girl she is, and her last three birthdays tell the story: her 11th birthday in England, her 12th birthday in Austria, and now her 13th birthday in Provence. This is her tenth trip to Europe.

In our family the birthday person gets to plan the activities and meals for their day. Charley and I liked Kelly’s plan for today, since she picked exactly the things we wanted to do too.

An abundance of freshly-picked fruits and vegetables

Charley, Kelly and I love the markets of Provence: a sensory delight of colors, sounds, tastes, aromas and happy people. This evening we went to a very different kind of market—the “Marché Paysan” (Farmers’ Market) at Velleron, considered by many “foodies” to be one of the best food markets in France. Velleron is a village of about 2800 people, a few miles north of L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue and about 20 miles from our base in Bonnieux.

A “Marché Paysan” includes only farmers selling produce they’ve personally raised and harvested. At these markets you won’t find any tablecloths, lavender sachets, handmade jewelry, olivewood cutting boards, scarves, straw hats or other products intended for the tourists. And there aren’t discount goods like clothes, shoes, cosmetics, kitchen utensils, toys, and hardware gadgets for the locals either. Just locally-raised farm products sold by real farmers: an abundance of fresh vegetables, fruits, olive oil and wine, honey, goat cheese, and flowers. We estimate there were 80-100 sellers when we visited on this Monday evening, all operating from very simple stands set up in front of their trucks.

At the Musée Granet

Aix-en-Provence is one of our favorite day-trip destinations from the Luberon, a place we’ve now visited about ten times. It’s a beautiful drive and one that we enjoy, just an hour from Bonnieux now that we’re familiar with the route. We follow the Winns’ guidebook directions for the scenic back way to Aix through Puyricard. Once in Aix, we park in the Parking Pasteur, another excellent Winn suggestion.

Today we traveled to Aix to see the Cézanne exhibition, commemorating the 100th anniversary of the artist’s death. Cézanne lived most of his life in Aix, and this exhibit—called Cézanne en Provence—features 120 watercolors and paintings he completed in Aix and its surroundings. Although many famous artists painted in Provence (Van Gogh, Renoir, Picasso, Matisse), it was always Cézanne’s home.

Ferme-Auberge Le Castelas near Sivergues

The day began as a pleasant one. Charley made his usual bread run into the village, and we had our breakfast of croissants and a sacristan on the terrace, sharing a coffee with the housekeeper Laurence. She comes two mornings a week; during our stay, she’s here primarily to do annual cleaning projects for our friends.

“Nous allons à Sivergues aujourd’hui,” I told her. “La ferme de chevre.” We go to Sivergues today. The goat farm. (My life in the French language is always in the present tense.)

Laurence is an outgoing and enthusiastic woman who lives nearby in Lacoste. We like her a lot. She speaks French very quickly with lots of hand motions, somehow not realizing that we are working hard to follow her conversation.

“Laurence s’il vous plaît, lentement,” Charley asked her the first time we talked with her alone. “Nous parlons français seulement un peu.” Laurence please, slowly. We speak French only a little.

Borie on Plateau de Claparèdes

During our three years visiting and living in this area, we’ve done much of our exploration on foot, discovering the hidden Luberon that most visitors never see: the woods, the gorges, the mountain tops, the ruins. There are so many special and secret places. During our six months in the Luberon in 2004/2005, Charley and I went on over 30 hikes, many of them with Kelly. When we were here for two weeks in March, we hiked six times. Our two blue IGN maps are worn and tearing, each of our routes marked with a yellow highlighter. We have a “to do” list of future hikes, but we also have our favorites we’re happy to do again or share with a friend.

But now we’re here in the summertime, and it’s hot… much hotter than we expected. Most days the temperature reaches the upper 90’s. The trails are calling us, and we want to hike—but then we don’t! There’s something about the languid days of summer in Provence that make us want to take it easy: sleep in, sit in the shade with a book, float on a raft in the pool, and drink rose wine with ice. Life here in the summertime shifts into a lower, much more leisurely gear.

Looking east toward the Durance and the Alps from the plateau at Ganagobie

Today we ventured further beyond the Luberon, once again to the Alpes de Haute Provence.

Our day began in the town of Forcalquier, about an hour east of Apt on the N100, in an area dotted with fruit orchards and olive trees. The village of Banon—known for its cheese wrapped in chestnut leaves—is not too far away.

We've driven through Forcalquier several times and spent several hours here in 2005 on our way to go skiing in the French Alps. We’ve always considered it an impressive town with the ruins of a castle and chapel on the top of a rounded hill. In 2005 we climbed to the top after lunch. (We actually ate outside in January!) The views from the top are superb, extending west to the snow-covered Alps and back to the Luberon in the east.

Forcalquier was once a very important place—an independent state and capital of the region. Today it comes alive primarily on Mondays—market day—and that was the reason for our visit today. The Forcalquier market is considered one of the best markets in this part of Provence. Our friends’ housekeeper Laurence used to live in a neighboring village; she said this is the major market for people living in the surrounding area and that even in summertime, there will be more locals than tourists.

Sunset over Lacoste

Windy today and a bit cooler! Perhaps the Mistral, the famous wind of Provence? It’s supposed to come from the north, though I can never seem to tell the direction. Rosa Tomas (Henri's wife, from the boulangerie) says yes, it is the Mistral.

This morning we made a quick trip to the market at Gordes. The wind whipped noisily across the top of the village, jerking the umbrellas and threatening some of the merchandise. A wine glass blew off of a merchant’s stand and shattered. A large cardboard poster slapped across the main square. Bits of lavender flew out of their sacks. Charley picked up two small potted trees that had blown over at a restaurant.

The sellers played a strong defense, hanging onto their umbrellas and awnings and trying to make their sales to the many anxious tourists. I’m sure they deal with the wind several times a year; they know what to do.

The wind cleared the skies, and at the end of the day we were rewarded with a perfect clarity, accentuating every farmhouse, villages, hill, canyon, ridge, and mountaintop from here to Mont Ventoux.

And the best reward of all: a breathtaking sunset that began behind Bonnieux and spread across the entire valley... a riotous explosion of pink, red, orange, gold and grey… all across a midnight blue sky, perfectly illuminating Lacoste and its famous castle.

I ran down to the vineyard to enjoy the spectacle, the highlight of another summer's day in Provence.

The calanque at Port-Miou near Cassis

Today we drove south to the Mediterranean Sea. Our destination was Cassis, a beautiful fishing village about an hour and a half drive from Bonnieux. This is a trip we’ve been saving, and one that was truly a delight.

It was another lovely drive (but then they’re all lovely drives), just in another direction. We made the familiar trek to Aix, passed the limestone peaks of Mont St. Victoire (3297 feet) and Mont St. Baume (3763 feet), and then headed south to Aubagne and Toulon. I was interested to see the area around Aubagne, the home of Marcel Pagnol, the famous Provençal writer and filmmaker. In preparation for our trip this year we watched two films based on his boyhood years: La Gloire de Mon Père and La Château de Ma Mère. And yes, the landscape around Aubagne—bare and very dramatic limestone mountains—was the scenery we had enjoyed so much in the films. It’s a different Provence than our Luberon.

Bonnieux and the plain, from the Cafe de France in Lacoste

The wind is the Mistral. Local friends tell us that when the Mistral comes, it always stays an uneven number of days: one, three, five… Today is Day Three of the Mistral-- a much cooler day, though still beautifully sunny.

The wind blew even more fiercely last night. We closed the windows and fastened the metal shutters, but we could still hear the wind beating against the house. The cushions on the wicker furniture on the upstairs porch blew off the couch and chair, then lay huddled in a corner, waiting to be rescued. A potted plant blew off a second story windowsill, shattering on the ground below. We laid the pool umbrella under a chair after we noticed the large blow-up pool toys flat against the garden shed halfway across the yard.

This big stone house is built to withstand the wind—and it has for hundreds of years-- providing us shelter on the sunny back terrace as the Mistral whips past on either side. Most of the houses here are built with their main windows facing south, to provide shelter from the Mistral.

Charley recently had a day of his own too... visiting several of the local wineries. He and Kelly visited a few of these spots again this afternoon to take photos for this post.

Vineyards at Domaine de la Coquillade (photo by Kelly)

For one whose “hobby” for the last thirty-five years has been wine, the opportunity to actually live in a big wine producing area is a dream (fantasy) come true. I’ve collected wines, amassed a respectable library of books on wine, and even written a newspaper column for a couple of years. But never, until our stay in the south of France, have I actually lived among the vines.

I drive through the vineyards daily. I pass wineries on the way to the village, on the way to the grocery, and in just about any direction I can go from our old stone house. I can hear the tractors of the grape growers droning in the neighboring vineyards, mixing their bass notes with the chorus of cicadas. I can leave the house and in five minutes be at our local cooperative and watch the village residents getting their wine containers filled from something that looks remarkably like a gasoline hose. Decent, drinkable, everyday table wine at a euro per litre!

There’s box wines too: five litre and ten litre cardboard cubes with plastic liners. The delicious liquid inside is less expensive than soda, but oh, so much better. With the price and convenience of this package, wine becomes the everyday beverage of choice, and the most agreeable of health foods.

The rugged countryside near Buoux

This morning we hiked around two of the smallest, highest and most isolated villages in the Luberon: Buoux and Sivergues. This rocky and remote area has been inhabited since prehistoric times—perhaps for over 50,000 years.

Buoux—at 1542 feet—has a reported population of 117. It’s located just down from the Claparèdes Plateau, above the valley of the Aiguebrun, the only permanent stream in the Luberon mountains. It sits above the Combe de Lourmarin, which is the only break through the Luberon mountains.

Sivergues (the highest village in the Luberon at 1867 feet) has 25 or 41 people, depending on the information source. It’s located on the other side of the Aiguebrun Valley from Buoux, on the slopes of the Grand Luberon mountain. According to legend, the village was founded when a convent was established here in the 5th century—by six virgins… hence the name. Sivergues actually has its own website.

We were among the first at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue this morning. We parked on the road leading into the town, just four or five cars from the roundabout. Our plan was to come early, have breakfast, enjoy the market before it got too crowded, and then head home with the makings for a picnic lunch.

At 8:30 the sellers were still setting up, chatting with each other, arranging their stands, some sipping coffee in one of the cafes. We walked quickly to the inside of the town, settling on the Café de France for our coffee and croissants.

We wandered the market in the early morning… just a few things on our list today. I love just looking at the stands, seeing what’s for sale, soaking in the colors. Does it mean anything that the color that most caught my attention today was red??

The peaceful Sorgue (before the arrival of the Wood family)

The mistral has subsided and it’s a beautiful sunny afternoon. The three of us are standing next to the River Sorgue, but we’re not shopping at the market today. We’re at “Kayak Vert” in Fontaine de Vaucluse… wearing bathing suits and life jackets, holding paddles, and clutching a little map of the river. Our towels and some clothes are stored in a big waterproof canister the ticket woman called a “bidon.” A young man is waving a paddle and talking in rapid French, telling about ten of us how to paddle a canoe. The canoes are plastic and there are different sizes for one, two, three and four people. The first family hops into their canoe, and he pushes them down the bank and smack! into the water they go.

The launches are happening quickly. Soon it will be our turn. Kelly’s very excited—this was her idea of something fun to do. I’m starting to feel nervous. What if our canoe tips over when he pushes us down into the water? While all these other people are watching?

Our canoe is a bright lime green. We line up to hop in. The young man arranges us, differently than we had planned. I’m in the front—to Kelly’s disappointment. Charley is in the back, where the young man instructed us that the man usually rides. None of us are really happy with our places. The bidon is strapped into the back of the canoe behind Charley.

Les Dentelles de Montmirail from Suzette

We ventured today to yet another Provence, this time beyond the Luberon to the Haut Vaucluse. Our destination was the countryside west of Le Mont Ventoux and around another distinctive mountain chain called Les Dentelles de Montmirail in the northernmost area of the departément of the Vaucluse.

Our route took us past L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue to Carpentras (an interesting and very busy town of about 25,000 people), where we headed east toward the massive Mont Ventoux (6263 feet), viewed now from a different perspective than our normal view from the south. My plan was to pursue a somewhat-circular driving route, going counterclockwise around the Dentelles. Charley and I have visited this area just once before—a day trip to Vaison-la-Romaine—but it is much beloved by several of my Slow Travel friends. We thought we would try to stop and walk around in as many of the villages as possible, to gain an appreciation not always evident from the road. Our target for lunch—and a wine tasting and purchase—was Gigondas, known for its red Grenache wine.

A house worth sitting for! (from the back)

For the last month we have lived another family’s life.

We’ve slept in their beds, eaten off their dishes, read their books, collected their mail, cuddled their cats, mowed their grass, and watered their flowers. We are housesitters, taking care of a beautiful home. And the best part of all-- it hasn't cost us a thing.

During our long trip we rented 20 different houses and apartments, so we’ve lived in other people’s houses before. But most of these places were second homes or rental properties. With one awful exception, the owners really weren’t that visible. Their clothes and personal possesions were gone. The refrigerator was empty. Most of them weren’t even people we met personally. And we didn’t have any chores to do other than cleaning up after ourselves—after all, we were paying to stay there.

Our friends Rosa and Henri Tomas

One of the advantages of coming back to the Luberon and being able to spend some long periods of time here is that we’ve made some good friends—quite a few of them, actually. We seem to have as active a social life in Provence as we do at home in the USA.

Our friend, Janice lives on the plateau above the village with her two daughters. Janice is British (part Jamaican), went to school in the USA, and married a Frenchman from this area. She’s lived in Bonnieux for 21 years. We were invited to her house for “soupe au pistou,” a Provençal speciality that’s designed for large group meals in the summertime. (It’s a vegetable and bean soup that you top with the “pistou”—a mix of garlic, basil and olive oil.) From the discussion that evening, it seems every Provençal cook has his or her own recipe. There were 12 guests around the table, born in seven different countries!

On Wednesday of this week we had a small “Slow Travel Get-Together” at our house. Kevin and Elisabeth own a B&B—the Mas Perreal—in St. Saturnin. They’ve become very good friends over the past three years. Elisabeth was our French teacher, and we’ve enjoyed several hikes with Kevin. We were anxious to connect Kevin and Elisabeth with David and Marianne, who own the Mas Pomona in Cheval Blanc on the western end of the Luberon. We had lunch at David and Marianne’s place when we were here in the spring. We were interested in getting these two sets of B&B owners together, and we really enjoyed hearing their stories and getting a glimpse into their busy lives, where the line between home and work is very blurred.

But our most memorable dinner with friends was tonight…

Pumpkins near the house this morning (note the borie on the hill)

For us, another summer in Europe has come to an end.

We’ve watched the passing of summer in the land around us over the past five weeks. The sunflowers—vibrant and dancing when we arrived—are now dry and brown, bowing their heavy heads beneath the sun. The lavender that delighted in mid-July in masses of purple has been harvested. The grapes on the vines have turned from green to purple, awaiting their own harvesting time. And the pumpkins in the field down the road have grown daily, now filling the ground with their large orange globes.

It’s been more than nine months since our last blog posting, written as our Summer 2006 trip was coming to an end. Our family has traveled back to Europe, but we just haven’t posted about it. Now we're getting ready for another summer in Provence.

Charley and I were back in Bonnieux last September and May for our Luberon Experience groups. We returned from our May trips just two weeks ago and really enjoyed our two groups. The flowers were wonderful at this time of year—irises, roses, broom, wildflowers, and especially the poppies. The poppy fields around Bonnieux were truly spectacular. One of the highlights of our weeks was a private tour at Chateau la Canorgue led by Nathalie Margan. Everyone also enjoyed our tour and lunch at Domaine Faverot with our friends François and Sallie Faverot.

Poppy field near Bonnieux

We use two vehicles for our Luberon Experience trips, and Charley and I both drive. This gives us more flexibilty with the groups, including the ability to split into smaller groups based on interests. Our first May week we had three people who were eager to do some hiking, and I was happy to help make this happen. We hiked at the Fôret de Cédres, from Bonnieux to Lacoste, from Gordes to the Abbaye, and up to the very top of the ruins at Fort de Buoux. The second week I took two couples to the old village at Oppède, and we climbed up among the castle ruins way above the village. I’m anxious to share this with Kelly, as the castle ruins weren’t accessible during our previous visits.

The chateau ruins at Oppède-le-Vieux (that's me there)

I’ve spent about a year in Provence over the past four years, but this is the first time here on my own. Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever traveled to Europe alone. I’ve traveled many, many times on business alone, and back in the days when I was single, occasionally I added a few personal days to a couple of business trips. I’ve been to a health spa for a week by myself three times, a very comfortable solo vacation. But I’ve never been in Europe alone. This is a very different experience for me, and I’m more than a little apprehensive.

My trip to Provence was uneventful-- just very long. It was 25 hours from the time I left home to the time I arrived at my B&B here in Aix-en-Provence. I flew Continental, through Newark to Paris—the least expensive option at a time of year that is incredibly expensive. I chatted with a very nice woman from North Carolina while waiting in Newark. We were surprised to discover our family trips were just the reverse. She was going to France to meet up with her husband and daughter who were finishing a French course in Sancerre, and in three weeks my husband and daughter will fly over to meet up with me after my French course. On the plane I sat next to a very interesting man who is a dean at the law school at the University of Pennsylvania, the school where I got my MBA. He was on his way to Russia for an alumni meeting.

I didn’t sleep much on the plane, but I never do. The worse part of the trip was the long wait between my arrival and my train to Aix-en-Provence—over four hours. It was very difficult to stay awake, and I shifted to various waiting spots in the station just to keep alert. I did sleep a little on the train. At the Aix TGV station, I wandered around a bit before I finally discovered where to catch the navette (shuttle), but then it was an easy trip to the Gare Routière (bus station) in Aix. I had planned to try to get a taxi from there, but it was horribly busy on a Friday afternoon and I never saw any taxis. I ended up walking to my B&B, about 15 minutes away. This was when I was very glad I had packed light!

I spent my first two nights at a chambre d’hôtes—La Maison de Carlotta—in the beautiful Quartier Mazarin, just a block or so from the fountain with the four dolphins. The B&B is actually a large two-story apartment in a big old building, the home of a delightful woman named Aline and her equally delightful daughter Carlotta. Aline has two B&B rooms, each with a private bath on the upper floor of the building, with the surprise of a tiny outdoor terrace just off the landing. Aline speaks very good English and was so much fun to visit with. Her home is both elegant and friendly, decorated with antiques. This has been a pleasant place to begin my stay in Aix.

La Fontaine des quatre dauphins

Today I’m going to write about my first two days at the French language school. Next time I’ll write about my experience living in a French home. There’s just too much to tell to put it all in one post. This has been a very intense couple of days!

Statue of Good King René on the Cours Mirabeau

I do know more French than the majority of Americans, but I really do not know much French at all. I can understand, speak and read a little French—enough to function as a tourist, but not enough to make friends with people who don’t speak English and have a real conversation. I need and want to make a major improvement, and that’s why I decided to go to a school. This was an ideal time for me to come, since Kelly is at a three week summer program of her own. And since our focus is Provence, I wanted to study in Provence. I considered a school in the Luberon, but I thought it would be better to be in a different place and to experience another part of Provence. Eventually I settled on IS Aix-en-Provence.

I took four years of high school French—goodness, that’s 35 years ago. We took some French lessons as a family before our long trip. And we took some lessons with our friend Elisabeth Widrow while we lived in Provence. Spending lots of time in Provence, and interacting with people in daily situations has helped me with my understanding, reading and speaking skills. But my knowledge and skills are very elementary and somewhat limited to tourist situations (restaurants, hotels, market shopping). My accent isn’t very good and my communication is all in the present tense. Hopefully all this will change in the next three weeks.

The school is located just outside the péripherique in a big old house on a quiet street. It’s a ten-minute walk from where I’m staying and a five-minute walk to the Place de Précheurs, one of the main market squares in the center of Aix.

At any given time, the IS school has about 120 students. Some come as a group and have their own classes. (There is a group here now from Princeton University.) Some come for three to nine months—for a major French study. Others—like me—come for a couple of weeks. The ages seem to run from older teenagers/college students to retired people. Some adults are here for their work, and others are here just for pleasure and to learn. Some are quite advanced in their French skills, and others come not knowing a word. Added to this diversity, people are here from many, many countries. Last year, the most students came from Switzerland. I was also surprised that many came from Sweden. The majority of students are not from the English-speaking countries of Great Britain, America, Canada, and Australia. Because everyone’s first language is different, ALL the instruction is done in French. We are learning French IN FRENCH!

It’s Friday afternoon, and I’ve survived my first week of French class. I had a nice lunch at La Brocherie with my friend Patricia, and then wandered back to the Carrefour Bar. This is an enjoyable spot to spend a sunny afternoon, sipping on a Badoit and using their free WIFI. I’m not really near the school, but when I arrived and started to sit down, I heard my name called, and another friend from the school (Annalise—Swedish) was finishing lunch at one of the tables. So I visited with her for a while before moving over here by the side of the building where the signal is strong. I like the feeling of belonging to a group here and having a connection with other people.

My view of Aix from my spot at le Carrefour Bar

So! (Or should I say, “alors”…) I wanted to tell something about my living arrangement, which is a different aspect of my immersion experience here in Aix. The IS school offers a couple of different options. You can stay at a hotel or rent an apartment (either on your own or through the school). You can live in some sort of student accommodation. Or you can stay with a French family—with no meals, with kitchen priviledges, with breakfast only, or with breakfast and dinner.

Staying with a family was the least expensive option, and adding breakfast and dinner didn’t add much to the cost. The school does recommend the family option, since this gives you another environment in which to speak French and to connect with the local culture. I decided to board with a family and to include both le petit déjeuner and le dîner. This more economical approach enabled me to come to the school for three weeks instead of two, but it was also the part I was most apprehensive about since it it had a lot of unknowns.

Sunday morning back at the Carrefour Bar…. I can smell the chickens roasting down the street, and people are out enjoying a beautiful day and picking up some groceries for their Sunday meal. I just finished doing my laundry at a little place down the street and have settled in here at “my” café for a couple of hours before my trip to Bonnieux.

Each week the IS language school offers a variety of optional activities and excursions. This has turned out to be a very enjoyable supplement to the program—a way to get to know other students away from the school, see some of the surrounding area, experience more of the local culture… and of course, to practice French.

This past week I participated in three activities through the school program: a hike on the Bibémus plateau, an evening of pétanque and a BBQ, and a trip to St. Tropez and Cap Taillat.

Eight students from the school went on the “randonnée” on Thursday. We met our guide Lionel in front of the tourism office, and then boarded a public bus. Lionel has a little business to take people on hiking excursions around Aix. I don’t think any of us really knew what to expect. I thought it was a hike on Mont Sainte Victoire. George from Scotland was really confused. He thought it was a walk around Aix! He arrived in street clothes and shoes (including a long-sleeved shirt) and didn’t bring any water. (Fortunately I had brought four bottles of water and was able to give him one—I really needed the other three bottles as it was very hot!) Our group included two Swedes, two Swiss, one Spaniard, two Americans and one Scot. We did our best to talk mostly in French, and Lionel’s commentary was all in French. Occasionally we talked among ourselves in English, which seems to be the common language everyone is proficient in.

The hike had a theme of Paul Cézanne, the famous Impressionist painter associated with Aix-en-Provence. We took the bus to Le Tholonet, a small village a few miles outside the city, passing through a beautiful alley of plane trees and catching just a glimpse of the chateau. Our route took us up on the plateau de Bibémus on a fairly steep and rocky path that took us up through red-tinged rocks and pine trees. This was a favorite place for Cézanne to paint, and when I went to the Cézanne exhibit in Aix last summer, I saw an entire room of paintings from Bibémus. Eventually we arrived at a beautiful viewpoint looking out to the end of Mont Sainte Victoire and the isolated reservoir at its base. We rested and enjoyed the view while Lionel told us more about Cézanne’s painting in that area. Eventually we emerged on a forest road, and I have to say that we were all shocked—after our hour of exertion—to spot a woman pushing a baby in a buggy on the road! Apparently the plateau can also be reached by a car and is a favorite place for people to come for a shady walk.

Our view of Monte St. Victoire

In my khaki capris and practical walking sandals, I’m definitely not a jet-setter. Despite this, St. Tropez really appealed to me! On Saturday we were lucky to be there for the big weekly market at the Places des Lices with its rows of shady plane trees. The stalls were arranged in aisles in a grid pattern. On this hot summer morning, the market was absolutely teeming with people, and we were glad a helpful man in a jewelry shop had suggested we carry our backpacks in the front.

Many stalls sold the usual produce and other food items, and the red fruit was especially vibrant at this time of year-- cherries, peaches, plums, nectarines. Yum! But there were also lots and lots of stands selling clothes, beachware, and other accessories. As always, I adored the colors of the market of Provence.

See for yourself!

It’s a small world… un petit monde!

It’s Monday afternoon and I'm writing from-- where else-- the Carrefour Bar at the Place d'Arménie in Aix-en-Provence. I just had lunch with Trishmael from Slow Travel and her husband Gary who are here in Aix for a conference, and now the café has become "mon bureau" (my office) for the afternoon.. The waiters are getting to know me, and I do like the feeling of having a regular place to come and enjoy "la joie de vivre" in France.

I was here at this same café on Sunday, staked out at a table by the side of the building, catching up on e-mail. I had started a load of laundry at a “laverie” just around the corner, and it was about time to hustle back and move my clothes to the dryer. There was another woman, blonde and a bit older than me, by herself at another table. I had noticed her here earlier in the week and thought then that she was maybe British. But then on Sunday morning I heard her talking on a cell phone and she was American. So as I was getting ready to run back to the laverie, I thought I would ask her to watch my things and preserve my table.

I approached her and asked if she was American. And could she watch my things for a minute?

Of course, she was happy to. She introduced herself with her first name.

I said, “I’m Kathy. I’m here for three weeks studying French.”

And she said... “Are you Kathy Wood?”

Mon Dieu! What a shock! At first I thought she might be someone from Slow Travel who might even be reading my blog. But even stranger, she is a woman from the Knoxville area who a mutual acquaintance at home had been trying to connect me with. She used to live in Aix and occasionally bases here for some international work. In our e-mail that very morning we both had a message from this mutual friend giving us each other’s contact information!! And there she was at the same café at the next table at the very same time—in this city of over 130,000 people!

Wow.

On Sunday afternoon I drove back to Bonnieux for the night. Our friend Pierre, owner of Le Clos du Buis, had invited us to a big party, and we were actually very honored to be included. The party was to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Le Clos du Buis, which is one of the B&Bs we use for our Luberon Experience weeks and a very special place. We like Pierre and his assistant Sophie very much, and since I was not too far away in Aix, Charley and I thought I should make a special effort to attend. Sophie is a neighbor of the friends we housesit for. They were also invited to the party and invited me to spend the night.

The Clos du Buis in Bonnieux

I left Aix about 2:30 pm for the beautiful drive to Bonnieux. As usual, I took the back route described by the Winns in their Provence Byways book. It was absolutely peaceful and beautiful, especially the section through the vineyards near Rognes.

We’ve started into our second week of French lessons. A few of last week’s students have left and a few new people have arrived, but my group of five remains intact: Urs, Karl-Heinz, Lydia, Suzanne and me. And our teachers are still Christine and Sonia, who alternate every other day.

Karl-Heinz, Lydia and Urs... three of my four classmates

We are each talking more in class and talking longer. At the beginning of last week we were introduced to the “passé compose” and then on Friday the “imparfait.” So now we can talk correctly about things that happened in the past. Instead of saying “I go to Bonnieux and it is beautiful,” I can conceivably offer a more intelligent comment like “I went to Bonnieux and it was beautiful.” The challenge is to be able to put all the right words together when you are talking spontaneously. C’est très difficile!

The focus at this school is on conversation and pronunciation… at least on my level, not much on the writing, spelling, accent marks etc. In my class (elementaire), our goals are fairly simple: to be able to talk about our activities, our backgrounds and experiences; to express ourselves using some sense of time; to understand similar communications from others; and to read and understand some simple texts.

Another one of the beautiful fountains in Aix

During our long trip, we met a man—a retired psychologist from Scotland—who lived in the small village in the Corrèze where we stayed for two weeks. James came to France not speaking any French and not knowing anyone. He told us that he wanted to put himself in a situation that was “uncomfortable.” I think that his objective was to stretch himself, to grow, to make sure life wasn’t too easy. It was an interesting way to approach retirement, and Charley and I have discussed James and his philosophy several times since the time we spent with him.

Now I find myself in a situation that is very much outside my comfort zone for these few weeks here in Aix. I’m far away from my precious husband and daughter, in a city where I have only a few recent acquaintances, living as a boarder in someone else’s apartment, in an environment where absolutely no English is spoken. Going to the school is a very positive experience, but the living experience is definitely stretching me. It’s not a bad experience—it’s just… well, definitely uncomfortable!

I’ve also kind of found myself this week without a “friend” at the school. Patricia—my Canadian friend—was just here for one week and flew home on Sunday morning. Markus—my fellow-boarder at Isabelle’s house—is back in Switzerland, surely enjoying gourmet food and wine. George—the Scottish man who was unprepared for the hike—was also here for just one week. I’m a bit adrift at this point without a “buddy” to team up with for lunches and activities. The truth is that I’m feeling a bit lonely!

Annalise at L'Atelier de Cézanne

On Wednesday morning another student at the school-- Annalise from Sweden-- suggested that we visit ,the L'Atelier de Cézanne that afternoon. I like Annalise very much, and I'd been wanting to visit Cézanne's studio, so this sounded like a good plan to me. We took a bus from the school, which wound up through apartment complexes into a part of Aix we hadn't seen before. An older woman showed us the right stop to get off the bus.

L'Atelier de Cézanne is a quiet spot just up the hill from the centre ville of Aix, now set among much more modern buildings. But here in the early part of the 20th century, in the last few years of his life, Cézanne came to paint and create his final masterpieces.

Our teacher Sonia told us that for many tourists, the L'Atelier is the biggest disappointment of Aix. They go expecting to see works of art by Cézanne, and find something very different. So Annalise and I weren't disappointed-- we had no such expectation. Instead, on the second floor of a small building, there is a big room full of light. Around the room are pieces of furniture and a variety of objects, just as they were left by Cézanne. Many of these same objects-- a table, a vase, a small statue of a cherub, a bowl-- were incorporated into his paintings. There was some fruit... but I can't imagine that these are the same pieces of fruit from 100 years ago!

When we first arrived, we just looked around and read a laminated paper about the studio. A woman was giving a very energetic talk to another group of visitors. We looked at the objects and flipped through a display of reproductions of some of Cézanne's works that were painted here. An American man came in, looked around, rolled his eyes, and said, "Okay, fine...check this off the list."

Fortunately Annalise and I hung in there. When the woman finished her presentation, we approached her with a question about something we had heard her say, and soon she had launched into another very discussion and attracted another group of visitors around her. Her talk was all in French, though illustrated by the paintings and the objects. Annalise is two classes above me in French (she speaks perfect English as well), and I think she followed much of the discussion. Perhaps I understood about half. But most of all I understood and very much appreciated the passion of this woman for her subject matter. Afterwards, we followed some paths through the gardens, where apparently Cézanne got some inspiration for the background of a few of his paintings. The gardens weren't very interesting, I'm afraid.

The entrance to L'Atelier (photos not permitted inside)

Would I recommend L'Atelier de Cézanne for visitors to Aix? If you are very interested in Cézanne and understand a reasonable amount of French, I would say yes. Go, look at the objects, and most definitely, hang around to listen to the guide. If you have very limited understanding of French, this is not a good use of your 5.5 euro. You will be finished there in less than 30 minutes.

This past Monday I met a virtual friend from Slow Travel-- Trishmael from Baton Rouge-- and her husband Gary here at the Carrefour Bar. Trish is no longer just a virtual friend-- she's one of many wonderful people from Slow Travel that I've met in person here in Europe and in the USA. Trish is here to sample Provence while attending a conference, and they're staying just a few blocks away at La Maison de Carlotta where I spent my first two nights. I really enjoyed our visit-- just too short. And they brought me a big bag of pecans! We're thinking of hosting some French friends for an American dinner one night, so perhaps a pecan pie will be on our menu.

Thursday afternoon I was here once again at the Carrefour Bar. When I arrived. I wondered how the rest of Trish and Gary's week had gone. It would have been good to see them again, but I knew they had much less time than me-- and much of Provence to experience for the first time. A few minutes later I looked up from my ordinateur... and voila! There were Trish and Gary! They sat down and ordered coffees, and we finished up our visit. I asked Gary to take this photo of Trish and me:

Trishmael and Kaydee at the Carrefour Bar

Trish said this was the first time Gary had ever taken a picture with a digital camera... he did great, didn't he? I think Trish and Gary will definitely come back to France, and I foresee much more travel in their future.

I like running into people I know here in Aix!

The IS school organizes their basic program around two week terms. Every other Monday they start a new term and new students arrive and are sorted into the proper classes. Although a few people (like my friend Patricia from the first week) come for just a week and some come for longer, it seems like most people come for two weeks. The classes stay more-or-less intact for the two weeks and with the same two alternating teachers. Today was the last day of the term.

Our class of five has been a great group, and we’ve had a lot of fun together. We really liked the two teachers Sonia and Christine, and II like the approach of having the two teachers who alternate. They’ve coordinated well together, and we get the benefit of two perspectives. All the teachers have been excellent. They're technically good, and they make the learning fun.

Notre professeur Sonia

Et notre professeur Christine

Isabelle had a dinner party last night, for thirteen people, one of which was me. This was a special meal requested by Christine, who is leaving on Sunday to go first to New York and then back to St. Barts.

When Isabelle first mentioned the couscous dinner, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. Actually, I was dreading it, especially after the dinner the other night with Christine, her friend Sabrina, and the ex-mairie. I was beginning to cast about for possible alternate social plans that would enable me to excuse myself from the dinner, even if I just had dinner on my own at the Carrefour Bar and perhaps went to a movie afterwards. But then Isabelle told me her friend Catherine would be there, the one who was so warm and friendly to me the night I arrived, and I felt I would at least have one friend. The evening was important to Isabelle, and I knew it was also a unique opportunity to be part of a French social gathering.

When I arrived at the apartment that evening, the dining room was already prepared. I brought Isabelle a small potted plant as a hostess gift, trying hard to be a thoughtful guest. Isabelle had extended the dining table and brought in another smaller table at one end and it was all very festive. She had set a really beautiful table, with decorations that included leaves and long green peppers.

Isabelle's beautiful table

The group began gathering about 7:30 pm, and I came out of my room to join the others. I wore my only “good” outfit—a brown top with a matching, long flowing shirt. Much to my surprise, Isabelle had complimented me on this outfit earlier in the week and also the brown wooden watch I'd bought at a market this past May for only five euro. I hoped I wouldn’t die of heat. Fortunately Isabelle turned on the ceiling fan about halfway through the dinner, the first time it’s been used during my stay.

On Thursday I e-mailed our friends Cynthia and Ian, who recently moved to the town of Bandol on the Mediterranean coast.

“Any chance you’d like some company on Saturday or Sunday?” I wrote. I closed my eyes and prayed, “Please let them say yes, please let them say yes….”.

The truth was that I needed the company of good friends... a change of scenery… the opportunity to speak English over a leisurely meal… croissants for breakfast… and perhaps even a long, hot shower.

Lucky, lucky me. My prayers were answered. After the strange and very awkward experience of Friday’s couscous dinner, I had a wonderful weekend with Cynthia and Ian in Bandol.

Cynthia and Ian are the now former owners of La Bastide Vieille, the very special house that our family rented when we lived in Provence during our long trip to Europe. I first met Cynthia in the fall of 2003 when we began corresponding about our six month rental, and we stayed overnight with them in the house when we arrived on October 2, 2004. They quickly became good friends, a relationship that deepened when our family assumed temporary care of Cynthia’s dog Juno, a very sweet blind poodle. We’ve managed to be together several times over these years, and keep in touch by e-mail. Last September they hosted lunches for our Luberon Experience groups at La Bastide Vieille, a highlights of those autumn weeks. We were surprised when they wrote us a month or two later to say that they had decided to sell the house. The ownership of such an old house in the country had become way too much work, and for their retirement years they wanted a change, an apartment on the coast, right in a town.

Cynthia and Ian enjoying their new life in Bandol

The house sold all-too-quickly (and it’s still available for rent, by the way), and less than a month ago Cynthia and Ian moved into an apartment in Bandol, a town of about 8000 between Marseille and Toulon, further east around the coast from Cassis. It’s in the department of the Var, still Provence but a very different Provence.

Enjoying my wonderful interlude in Bandol (on the isle of Bendor)

I was up early and watched the sun rise over the sea before I tested that wonderful shower. I walked down with Ian to the fish market to buy oysters for lunch. Everything in Bandol is so convenient, and all the little shops were open this morning. They have found a great little fish shop selling all kinds of fresh fish and shellfish. We decided that the fish shop lady definitely has a difficult job. Ian picked out three kinds of oysters, and we also got a bag of ice and some shellfish.

At the fish shop with Ian

We carried everything the five minutes back up to the apartment and then Cynthia and I went back down to one of the many waterfront cafes on the broad main street to satisfy my craving for croissants. Since I have been croissant-deprived, I had two.

It’s the third and final week of my language program, and now I’m a returning student. Pas de probleme! I know what to expect, and I even have friends. I’ve settled into a comfortable routine that I like.

New students have arrived—many of them, since it’s now July and the beginning of “les vacances” in Europe. In addition to French, there are many many languages spoken around the school and out front where students congregate at the mid-morning break.

Students outside the IS school

Every other Monday when a new two-week term begins, the returning students like me come at 11:00 am. This week there are “debutantes”-- people who don’t know any French at all. Our teachers told us that they were expecting 70 people in the main program this week, compared to perhaps 30 the two-week term before.

On Monday morning, after breakfast at Isabelle’s, I headed to the Carrefour Bar to check e-mail and have a coffee before going to school. I ran into Sally, the American woman I met last week. We both like the free WIFI. Although Aix is a good-sized city, I have the feeling of also being in much smaller community, as I’ve often encountered people I know around town. (The next day I ran into Sally again—in a totally different part of Aix.) I love the rhythm of life in France, and I feel very much at home now in Aix. If only Charley and Kelly were here too… but perhaps that can happen another year.

Susanne and Urs were at the school when I arrived on Monday. Urs is taking private lessons this week and next, now focusing on learning the French language of banking. Like me, Susanne is here just one more week. On Monday morning there was a list posted on the board, organizing the fifteen or so returning students into a few small groups… to do what, we didn’t know. Susanne and I returned to our old classroom where we were joined by an older American named Paul and a very young and shy British girl. The session was sort of a test, I think. The teacher was Claire, a very enthusiastic young woman who had just returned from her “voyage des noces” (honeymoon). We spent the hour and a half talking about ourselves, listening to Claire, and making conversation. I could definitely see the progress that Susanne has made since we started our classes two weeks ago, and I felt much more confident too. Our French skills were much more advanced than Paul and the British girl… surely we wouldn’t be placed in the same class with them. Claire told us to come back at 2 and check the board again. There were going to be nine classes, and the four of us would be in class 1, 2 or 3.

I’m sitting here at the Carrefour Bar, and Isabelle just walked by on the Rue d’Italie. She didn’t see me. Perhaps she’s going out to do some marketing for dinner. On the way here I stopped at a store down the street and bought a bottle of rose wine that I’ll contribute for tonight’s dinner. This morning Isabelle told me that her friend Catherine who I like so much is coming to dinner tonight. I’m looking forward to seeing Catherine again, and I sense this will be a much more comfortable evening than the couscous dinner.

In addition to enjoying the routine at school, this week I also find I’m much more comfortable at Isabelle’s. Now that her daughter Christine has left, I feel much better about my living situation. And since I know I can have Henri Tomas’ croissants in Bonnieux every day for the next five weeks beginning on Sunday, I’ve even accepted having yoghurt and toast for breakfast in the morning. I plan to continue my daily yoghurt diet, but I’ll be substituting croissants for the toast next week!

There’s another student at Isabelle’s this week, a young Italian man named Fillippo. He is 19 years old, from near Bologna, very tall and very handsome. The first night I didn’t think he understood or spoke French well at all, but he has turned out to be in class 6, so maybe he's just shy. Fillippo doesn’t eat any vegetables or fruit, which Isabelle finds shocking, since fresh farm produce is so plentiful and important in the Provençal diet. This has given her a new challenge in her dinner preparations. Isabelle seems to have bonded with Fillippo though, perhaps a motherly thing. I’ve been away the last two nights for dinner, and when I came home last night late, she and Fillippo were sitting in the dark in the living room, watching television together.

Isabelle and le grand Fillippo