A week in Provence (Part I) - Days 18 - 22

A Week in Provence (Part I)

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