We had an exciting first five days in Provence, but still
had two days left to explore the region.
Hardly enough, we learned, as there were many towns that we had to
remove from our list of “to dos” for lack of time. The two that survived were Les Baux and
Cassis, and a visit to the calanques.
Les Baux is an ancient fortress town built high in the
mountains near St. Remy, our home base.
It was only 15 minutes away, and had been recommended by a couple of
friends, so – after a morning spent doing laundry and general lazing around -
we set out around 2pm on Thursday to see it.
Preparing to walk to Les Baux (you can see the flag flying in the background)
While Les Baux was neat to see – it is literally built into
a mountaintop, and you need to walk up the mountain to get there – it lives up
to its reputation as “Provence’s most visited town.” It was crowded, even on a Thursday, and the
narrow streets were shoulder to shoulder filled with people and hard to
navigate.
At the entrance, we were offered the opportunity to purchase
tickets to go to the “Chateau des Baux” and to the “Carrières de Lumières.” I didn’t really know what
they were, but I bought tickets anyway.
Tommy about to go medieval on someone
I wish we had one of these at home
We didn't understand a single word of the medieval demonstration
Looking down at the vineyards (olives and grapes) from Les Baux
Catapult Demo
Climbing the steep (and well worn) stairs to the top of the castle
The village of Les Baux (I don't think anyone lives there - it is all shops)
Finally, the kids were photo'd out
Where the Chateau des Baux disappointed (it was basically a
Disney-like Medieval reenactment), the Carrières de Lumières really blew us
away. The latter is a 60-minute laser
art show that is broadcast throughout a cave, onto the 30-foot-high walls. The walls have been sheared flat, to allow
better projection. It was somewhat complicated to take photos from inside because it was dark, but here is what we got:
We tried over and over to get a photo of our family in shadow - but people kept walking into it
Finally we settled on a giant shadow art composite (That's Jimmy on top)
Much of the art was
from artists we had seen on the trip, so we were able to test the kids
recollection of Van Gogh, Matisse and Piccasso.
For the most part, they passed, but Billy would later remind me (in the
Musee D’Orsay) “Dad – I am a 14 year old boy.
I don’t care about art. At
all.” What they did enjoy was making
giant shadow puppets on the wall.
Selfie with vineyard in background
On the way home, we stopped at Mas de la Dame, a winery that
we had passed on the way into Les Baux.
Tree and I bought a couple of bottles of wine, but we learned that the
wineries here in France do not give tours.
Mostly all the do is sell their own wines, and tell you what flavors, nuances and influences to "look for" when you sip them. (I don't know about others, but despite many glasses of wine, the nuances of different wines are largely
lost on me. I know what I like, and what
I don’t like, but I cannot taste “hickory,” “blackberry” and “faint hints of
smoky radish” or whatever people say I should be looking for. So I’ve never been one for wine tours.)
We had planned an early departure the next morning, so we
had a salad for dinner and hit the sack.
Day 7 – Cassis
Our friend Katharine, who has a home in Provence and whose stories about life there motivated much of our curiosity the region, had send an email recommending that we “visit the
calanques – in Cassis - by boat.” Aside from knowing that it was high on her list, I didn't know what to expect. Cassis is a 2 hour drive from St. Remy, so we
were never certain we could fit it into our schedule. As a result, I waited – literally – until
the last moment to start calling boat rental shops to see if we could charter a
boat. Call after call, I asked (or at
least I think I asked) in broken French if they had a boat for charter. “Non” was the answer, again and again. A captain finally put me in touch with JDK
Boat rentals, who informed me that while they did not have a chartered boat
available, they could rent us two small dingys which we could then pilot to the
calanques. Unfortunately, due to us not
having the requisite French boating licenses, the boats could be no more than 6
HP, and could accommodate no more than 5 passengers.
None the less, this is something that we wanted to do, and
our schedule had opened up to allow us to do it, so I agreed to rent the two
boats. We left the house at 7:30, aiming
to arrive just before 10:00.
Our boats...
I will probably only get this half right, but the calanques
are basically inlets and cliff faces that have been carved away by years of
waves crashing against the limestone that makes up the shoreline. There are some 20 calanques. Some of them allow you to anchor and swim to
the “beaches”, which are actually just
flat rock surfaces that you can sit on.
Others are restricted, and you can only hike to them – boats are not
allowed to tie up or anchor nearby.
Our schedule – and the speed of our boat – only allowed us
to see the 7 calanques that were closest to Cassis. We paid our 400 euros for the two boats for a
full day- there was no deposit nor ID
required nor contract to sign, which was refreshing -- took a 5 minute lesson on how to operate the
boat, and we set out.
Making our way - SLOWLY - to the calanques
To say that the boats were slow was an understatement. Kayaks were passing us. A six HP motor ferrying 4 people against a 5
knot wind meant we were probably going 2-3 knots per hour. Nevertheless, we motored on – avoiding the
wakes of the giant boats that carried tour groups -- and made it to the first
set of calanques. When we left the port,
the rental agency warned us that the winds were supposed to pick up in the
afternoon. It had taken us 20 minutes to
go about ½ mile, and Tree was ready to drop anchor, take some snapshots, and
head back. Billy and Danny insisted that
we keep going, and Dad agreed. We didn’t
necessarily know what we might find in the next mile of shoreline- Dad had
theorized that there might be some rock jumping further on - but we knew that we had not gone far enough.
Calanque #7
After about an hour, we made it to the most distant calanque –
number 7 - that our boat rental agency advised us to visit. As we got closer, we could make out people on
the shoreline – lots of people. We had
not seen anyone at the other calanques, so this could be a good sign. Indeed, as we pulled in to the “port,” the
kids saw teens galore, jumping from rocks.
The only problem was that we had not though about how we were going to
“dock” and bring our backs, towels, backpacks and picnic lunch ashore…
Danny swimming to shore
While Billy, Tommy and Danny jumped out and swam to the
nearest cliff face, Dad took Tree, Lilly and Jimmy close to shore and grabbed
hold of the (sharp) rocky shoreline.
Some how we managed to toss our bags onto the rocks. While Tree set up camp, Dad took the boat
back out into the harbor and anchored it.
We ended up spending a great 2-3 hours at the calanque. Dad and the kids – including Jimmy – did some
more cliff-jumping, this time exceeding the heights that we saw in Cinque Terre
by a good 10 feet. Even Tommy – our most
fearless kid – was scared, but he eventually built up the courage to jump from
a rock that was around 50 feet above the water.
Dad went right before Tommy, and – from first hand experience – can say
that it literally took his breath away.
You have time to think while in the air – “what if I land wrong…” “am I
far enough away from the rocks?” Jimmy
did not jump off that rock, but he walked out to the edge of a rock that was 20
feet up and jumped off without missing a beat – to everyone’s surprise.
Meanwhile, the water was crystal clear, and offered great
snorkeling. We only had one mask, but
everyone shared it and enjoyed the views of the fish below us.
B and D went back to jump again
while Dad, Tom and Jim swam
and had some wine with Mom
...relaxed...
...and took decidedly less risky jumps...
(Jim would not repeat his 20 foot jump for the camera, but took a smaller plunge)
Eventually it was time to swim back out to our boats and head back. The winds had indeed picked up, making the journey home even longer than the journey out. Slowly – this time swimmers were passing us – we made it back to port and home to St. Remy.
Dan tweeted this with the caption "Jus crusin the Mediterranean"
The waves -- the were bigger than they look in this photo!
Prepare to settle in, because this is going to be a monster
blog. I decided to save up the entire
week in Provence for one session, to be done today on the 3-hour train to
Paris. Fortunately my computer is fully
charged…
Arrival – Day 1
Upon leaving Italy, we had planned a week in Nice, followed
by a week in Provence, followed by 5 days in Paris (then home). Last we spoke, the family had finished its
last day in Nice and was preparing to drive to Provence. On the 4 hour drive to Provence, Tree was
reading all about the region and noted that we would be driving at peak season
for La Lavande -- the lavender route,
which is where the majority (if not 100%) of the worlds lavender is
produced. One could spend days touring
the 1000s of sites that grow lavender, but we were looking for a quick
hit. We found it in the Musee de la Lavande (Lavender Museum).
I didn’t know what to expect, but upon arrival was
pleasantly surprised. For 2
euros/person, we received access to the museum, a 15 minute (informative) movie
about the difference between commercial lavender (used in detergents) and fine
lavender (used in perfumes and known for its medicinal properties), a book on
the lavender trade, and the kids received a “quiz book” that came with the promise
of a “prize” at the end if they completed it… Not bad.
Watching the film on how lavender is grown/processed
Jimmy's drawing of a lavender field
Taking the quiz on lavender
But about ¾ way thru the museum, it hit me. Everything we “learned” was about the
beneficial qualities of lavender, how it cures stomach illness, soreness, dry
skin, etc. We were being set up for the
gift shop – where we were about to be dumped.
Sure enough, when the tour dumped us out, there was a gaggle of nice
looking, multi-lingual sales associates offering us the opportunity to sample
numerous lavender products. As much as I
tried to resist the heavy sales push, we ended up with gifts for all of our close friends (sorry to
give away the surprise) and suddenly I understood why admission was only 2
euros.
The kids got burned too.
They had worked hard on the quiz, hoping for a substantial prize at the
end. Twas not to be – all they got was a
handwritten “Certificate of Completion.”
That “rip off” would stick with Tommy and Jimmy for the rest of the
vacation.
Jimmy's lavender certificate (top) plus some other misc ticket stubs...
When we left the Musee de la Lavande, we drove up the hill
about 5 miles to Abbey Norte Dame du Senaque, which has a substantial lavender
field for viewing.
Gordes, a mountainside village on the lavender route
Abbey de Notre Dame du Senaque (from the road above)
The lavender fields of the Abbey
Tree convinced Billy to pose in the field
Tree in front of the Abbey
FInally the kids got out of the car for some photos
...and Lilly replicated the photo of Tree and Billy
Abbey de Notre Dame de la Senaque also happens to be
an active abbey, and about 12 monks live there full time. We arrived in time to sit in on evening vespers,
which will stand out as one of the most memorable moments of the vacation for
me. I’m not sure if this was
appropriate, but I recorded some of the chanting (prayers) for your enjoyment…. (stick with it until the 49 second mark, where the chanting starts)
Day 2 – Pont du Gard
We spent the morning settling into our “Mas” (basically a
chateau) and admiring the how modern and comfortable it was compared to the
cramped quarters in Nice. Tree took some
photos. The house is owned by a British
couple who rent it our when they are not in Provence. It was wonderful – spacious, clean, 5
bedrooms, pool and olive garden if we wanted.
Kitchen
Outdoor grill/patio
Front Courtyard/Garden
Entrance
Living Room
Tom and I set out to get some groceries as well. Apparently our local grocery had burned
recently – no worries. It was open for
business.
A morning run to the grocery (recently burned out, but still open)
A friend of ours had spent two weeks in Provence earlier
this summer and shared his list of favorite activites with us. Towards the top of the list was “Pont du Gard
– by kayak if you can.” I didn’t know
what that meant, but googled Pont du Gard and kayak and found the web site for
a company called Kayak Vert. They
offered 4, 8 and 12-kilometer outings. I
picked the 8, and piled everyone in the car, not really sure what we would
find.
Getting ready to canoe the Gardon
Our Canoes
The trip down the Gardon River was fun. It was a busy day (Sunday) so we saw all of
the locals doing what they do on weekends – basically laying out and having
picnics on the banks of the river. The
kids found some more rocks from which to jump, and Jimmy found another pet –
this time it was Tap, the tadpole. Jimmy
caught him singlehandedly in the river, and put him in the boat. He used a beer can to build a little “pool”
for Tap in the kayak. I figured the guy
would last maybe 15 minutes before the oxygen dried up and the beer got to him…
Jimmy with Tap
Dad and Tree packed a 6-pack for the ride
More rock jumping...
This time, even Tree got into it
Danny and Billy chose solo kayaks
While Dad and Tommy ferried Jim down the river
Coming on 2 hours, we finally came into view of the Pont du
Gard, an aqueduct that was built 2000 years ago by the Romans to get water to
their settlement in Nimes – a 30-mile journey.
It is an amazing engineering feat.
The aqueduct drops 1 inch for every kilometer, just enough to keep the
water flowing.
Jimmy and Tap - Pont du Gard in background
The aqueduct runs 30 miles, descending only 1 inch every 250 feet. To put it in perspective, the "drop" across the entire bridge is 1 inch.
(At the end of the journey, I pulled Tap out of the warm
pool of beer/water in the kayak and placed him into the fresh water of the
Gardon. Amazingly he came to life and
swam away.)
Day 3 – In the Tracks of van Gogh
Vincent van Gogh spent the last years of his life at a
mental institution in St. Remy. He was a
tortured sole, and was committed here by his friends, other painters he had met
in the French Rivera. Van Gogh would
succumb to 2-week bouts of nightmares, followed by periods of clarity. But he apparently found happiness in the
hills of St. Remy and produced some 200 pieces of art in his 53 weeks here.
We started at the mental hospital where he stayed and toured
his room, and the grounds where he did many of his paintings. We read about his illness, how he got here,
and how they treated him. (Aside -- For
some unknown reason, Dad was feeling kind of ill himself. My stomach was churning, and I had been up a
couple of times during the night to tend to it…
I powered – uncomfortably – thru the tour of Van Gogh’s home and the
area surrounding it.
Entrance to St Paul Mausoleum, where Van Gogh stayed -- its still in active service for ill artists
Van Gogh's paintings are displayed where he painted them
The small chapel where he cleared his head - Van Gogh was (likely) bi-polar
Starry Night
Van Gogh's actual room
One of the treatment rooms
The gardens of St Paul
Next to where Van Gogh lived is an old Roman settlement
called Glanum. The kids really like
museums and historical archeological sites, and they begged us to take them
there. (Aside – I suspect my kid’s
disdain for historical sites is genetic, passed on from Dad. To this date I still remember my mother
taking us to Colonial Williamsburg. It
was among the most unenjoyable vacations in history – for both my mother and
myself.)
Entrance to Glanum
This photo accurate capture's the kids excitement
Glanum Panorama
Jimmy struck a warrior pose for us
Fromt he hill above Glanum
Our history lesson complete, we drove into town for lunch,
and to visit some of the shops of St. Remy.
The town is called “The Hamptons of Provence” because of the number of
good restaurants and fancy boutiques. It
is quite quaint, and anyone who likes towns like St. Michaels or Nantucket or
Sag Harbor would like St. Remy.
Tom and Jim have more or less subsided on Nutella Waffles and Nutella Crepes. Here, they indulged in St Remy.
As we walked the streets, the kids found one of the more
interesting “boutiques” in town. For a
small fee, they will let fish eat the dead skin off of your feet. It was bustling….
Franchises Available...
Lilly and Tommy getting a "fish spa"
We grabbed a crepe and a salad at a local
brasserie, and then went to the grocery store to buy dinner ingredients. Given that we had a kitchen we figured we
would use it. Dad bought Tommy’s
favorite – steak – for everyone.
While the kids played
Dad and Lilly cooked
We found an iPod dock and the evening ended with an
impromptu dance party, brought to you by Billy.
Day 4
The next day Danny pointed out why Dad (and Mom) had
experienced upset stomachs. Apparently
the water that Tommy and I bought at the burned out supermarket was a laxative. We looked at the label, and sure enough, it
was called Contrex (with magnesium added) and there was an image of a person’s
body being flushed out. We quickly
replaced it.
Do not buy this product (unless you are constipated) - note the "flushing body" logo
Today we had planned to drive to Uzes to visit the
headquarters of Haribo, the maker of gummy bears. They apparently offered a fun factory tour
that included a shop at the end with every variety of gummy product you could
imagine. The kids were excited.
Arriving and the Haribo Factory
The tour explained the origin of gummy bears (100+ years
ago) and how they are manufactured. As
with other European museums, there was a “quiz” but the kids –once burned by
the Musee du Lavande – were not so into it.
Haribo investor - Hans Richter (carefully preserved)
100s of varieties (under glass, unfortunately)
Outside of the museum, a group of employees was playing a
fun game. They would play a song, and if
you could tell which movie it went to, they you received a bag of candy. Our family had a massive competitive
advantage – all of the movies were American, as were the songs. We quickly figured out how it worked and
edged to the front of the line. The next
song they played was the theme from Star Wars – “Da da, da da da da daaaa, da
da da da daaa, da da da da….” (Not sure
if that is easy to follow, but you know the song.) Amazingly, the French were scratching their
heads. No one knew what it was. Billy stood at the front of the group jumping
and yelling “Star Wars! Star Wars!” But alas, they kept bypassing him and did not
give him the candy for getting the song right.
(In fact, they told him he was wrong!)
Playing "name that song" game
After a full minute with no one getting the song, the
announcer came on sand said (in French) “Sorry.
No one knew that song. It was
from Guerre Des Etoiles.” Ah ha – some
our competitive advantage was not such an advantage. E.g. while we knew the song, we did not know
how to say it in French. Star Wars had
become “Guerre des Etioles.” Shrek was
something like “Green Giant” and ET was – well, I couldn’t even understand what
they said.
Nevertheless, we had accumulated enough candy and it was
time to drive to Avignon to see the Pont du Avignon and the Palais du
Pape. Dad had a vague familiarity with
Avignon as the second home of the Pope.
Actually, there was more to the story.
Back in the 1300s, France demanded that the Catholic Church select a
French Pope. When they did so, the Pope
promptly decided that Rome was too dangerous, and uprooted the entire Vatican
to Avignon France, at the time a two-horse town with not much going on. Over time, a massive palais was built, and 11
Popes resided in Avignon from 1300 - 1450. At one point,
Italy and France contested the validity of the French Pope, and there were two
Popes – a “real” Pope in Rome and an anti-Pope in Avignon. By the mid 1400s the papacy had moved back to
Rome and the Vatican, and Avignon was left with a gleaming palace and a much
better commercial center. Today it is
both university town, tourist center and arts center.
Our first stop was the Pont du Avignon, the bridge that is
depicted in some famous French song (that none of us knew).
There were references throughout the tour to the song, but I still can’t
place it. We made a quick tour of the
bridge, then Tree and I – unable to find the older kids (Tommy, Billy, Danny)
-- headed back down to the ground level and the gift shop where we figured they
would be waiting for us. Unfortunately,
no kids.
Sur Le Pont D'Avignon
Pont D'Avignon - medieval drawbridge in background
We walked outside to see if they had wandered into the
streets – no kids. Suddenly, Jimmy (who
was on Dad’s shoulders) said, “There’s Tommy.”
He was up on the bridge, 20 feet above us and 200 yards away, oblivious
to everything around him. It brought
back memories of the subway in New York, but we got him (and the others) back
quickly and headed over to the Palais.
Find Tommy... (hint, white shirt, right of lamppost)
The Palais was quite impressive in its own right. The initial structure was built in only 20
years, and then subsequent additions were put on. When the Catholic Church ultimately abandoned
the Palais, it was overtaken by the Romans and many of the religious aspects
where destroyed. Eventually the Palais
made its way into the public domain and was restored to much the same state it
was in when the Church vacated it. Plus
700 years of wear and tear.
Palais du Pape - Avignon (active as Vatican from ~1300 - 1450)
Kitchen Chimney - About 50 feet tall
When Popes died back then, they were buried in a horse carcass
We left the Palais just before dinner and walked into an open-air
market where numerous street performers were getting ready for the evening
rush. We had a 7:00 dinner reservation,
and it was only 5:45, so we had an hour to burn. While the kids rode their skateboards and carousels,
Tree and I had a beer and people watched.
Elaborate two-tiered carousel
Tree and Dad enjoyed a (well earned) beer
I watched as a young guy – maybe 25 – applied gold makeup in
preparation to become one of those gold, stationary statues that you often see
in Vegas. They stand erect, unmoving,
until you put a coin in their tin cup, at which point they bow, or dance, or
something.
Gold Man - getting set up
... and doing his "thing." He earned pretty good coin...
He got set up fairly quickly
– it’s a lot less difficult than it appears to be – and was earning about 1
euro every 2 minutes when a group of 20 somethings gathered about 15 feet
away. They all were holding two things
-- an instrument (mostly brass) and a
beer (mostly malt liquor) as best I could tell.
As motley a crew as the 20 somethings appeared to be, they
were GOOD. Real good. As soon as they started to play, a crowd
gathered. Using just a mixture of brass
and drums, they played everything from pop to reggae to classical. Within minutes, their cup was filled with
Euros, and sadly, the gold man was being ignored. In one of the most human moments I have ever
seen, I watched as he grudgingly took off his costume and sat down to enjoy the
band. As Charlie Daniels famously said,
he knew that he’d been beat, and he laid the proverbial golden fiddle on the
ground at their feet.
Gold Man - realizing he had lost his crowd to the band, stepped down...
...figuring if he couldn't beat 'em, at least he could enjoy them.
Jimmy danced (along with a shoeless crazy woman who later accosted Tree)
We were really enjoying this rag tag band. Unfortunately, it was time for us to go off
for dinner, so we headed out to what would become on of our favorite
restaurants so far. It was less the
food, and more the personality of the owner.
We found the restaurant – Le Petit Gourmand – in Fodors, and called to
see if we could get in. The owner said
she would squeeze us in if we promised to arrive right when she opened and to
eat within one hour. We agreed.
Le Petit Gormand (and our owner-friend)
The food was great, but even better was the service. The
owner was gracious and understanding of what it is like to travel with 5 kids,
especially our kids. After dinner –
which we completed in exactly an hour – we headed back to our car, happening by
the same brass band that we had enjoyed earlier. They were still playing, but by now they had
clearly finished several beers and were rocking out. A crazy woman – who we had seen before – was
dancing with them, and wearing a tablecloth for a dress. We watched them play their last song, which
the lead trumpeter finished by falling down into the drummer, and breaking both
the drum stand, and probably part of himself – not that he will remember. It was such an authentic moment, it made my
admiration of the band that much greater.
We decided to buy their CD, and in doing so got a photo with one of the
band members. (We also happened to learn that they had been traveling Europe all summer, playing every evening at a different local square. Billy was envious...)
Day 5
The morning of Day 5, Tree, Danny and Lilly headed into St
Remy early to go to the open air market (which is only once each week) while
Dad and the others stayed back to sleep/do laundry/catch up on work. The market – I hear – is excellent, but by
the time I arrived pretty much all I saw of it was the breakdown. We had lunch, and headed back to the house.
While Tree, Danny and Lilly went to the market...
...and admired the foods there...
Tommy and Jimmy dug into their massive Haribo collection
Eventually everyone joined them...
...and enjoyed being serenaded by a singer in the traffic circle (note: she was talented singer, but not well positioned to take advantage of her skills. Very little foot traffic went thru the traffic circle where she was standing.)
That evening we had planned to go to ChateauRenard for a
special event. Someone had told us
“maybe you can catch a bullfight,” so all week I had been looking for one. In my best French (which is at a 5 year old
level) I discerned from the tourism official that there was one at 5:00 that
evening in ChateauRenard, about 15 minutes away.
We set out around 4:30, giving us plenty of time to arrive
on time. What we had not planned for was
that the bullfight was part of a larger festival that had blocked off the town
center. Also, we – and apparently
everyone else – were not exactly aware where the bullfight would occur. We drove around for 45 minutes and eventually
found it, arriving too late to enjoy the parade of matadors.
The ticket window -- not sure why so small...
Arriving - ChateauRenard Arena
What we did see, however, was WELL worth the trek and the 45
minute search for the arena. The sport,
which is a more humane form of bullfighting, is called “The Course
Camarguiase.” The headline summary is
that a bull, with three small ribbons tied around his horns, is released into
the arena. Twelve men -3 “distractors”
and 9 “rasteurs” are positioned in the
arena. They have 15 minutes to remove
all three ribbons using what could best be described as metal combs that are
taped tightly to their hands. The longer
it takes, presumably the better the bull is at fending them off, and the higher
the prize money goes for getting a ribbon.
The three “distractors” are retired rasteurs, and do not have combs on
their hands. They serve only to draw the
bull on a charge, so that the others can take an angle of approach to the bull
– basically from the side – to grab the ribbon.
Here are some photos and video from our evening. The video is long (10 mins), but worth watching for a few minutes to get the picture
And some still shots...
We were 10 feet from the action
Tommy - told his orange shirt would anger the bulls - moved up in the stands for safety
Mom's favorite - Moine - jumps to avoid the bull
When Tree cheered him on, he handed her a token of his appreciation -- Dad was somewhat concerned until he saw "Lucia" tattooed prominently on Moine's arm
After the fight, we retired to St. Remy for a delicious dinner Le Bistrot Decouvre, which was supposedly hard to get into, but we lucked out. Dad had the best meat he has ever tasted - Polume, or something, a hard to find spanish pork
Wet from the downpour outside, we were glad to be in the "Wine Cave" for dinner
