Azure Coast and Avignon: Road Trip!

The day after Cameron's birthday was dedicated to a road trip, so we settled up with our B'nB owners, loaded the car and headed south.

 

Orange; Aix-En-Provence; Aubagne; Toulon; Le Lavandou; St. Tropez; Cannes; Juan-les-Pins; Antibes; Nice.  The names rolled off the tongue and the scenery flitted by our little blue clown car, filled to the gills with luggage, wine, cold drinks, peaches and a variety of local cheeses and hams.  Yes, the le Roux's were well on their way again.  South of France, road trip!

 

 

Once we finally hit the beach roads, we spent most of the day driving from beach to beach, stopping ever so often for a leg stretch and for me to check the waters of the Med, ready and eager to swim. 

 

Collecting sea shells

Reminder for next time: bring reef shoes!

 

 

Alas, the water was freezing and the beaches quite disappointing, being not only mostly over populated with sun-worshipping holidaymakers, but also extremely rocky.  Not the pristine white beaches with soft sand that we are used to in South Africa and Mozambique, so no swimming for me.

 

It was a treat to look at the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean, see the fancy yachts, colourful umbrellas on the beaches and of course, all the different shapes and sizes of sunbathers, some of them having tanned themselves into most unnatural colours.

 

Just outside St. Tropez.
Snuck into the parking lot of this private beach, but could not get down to the water.
Now this is my idea of a good holiday!

Just past Cannes where we stopped for a late lunch, beach-side picnic.  We thoroughly enjoyed our ham, cheese and peaches and celebrated life with a cold beer for him and a miniature bottle of champagne for me.  After lunch, we just sat on the corniche and watched the people stroll along the beach, enjoying the last of the summer sun.  This is where I added another item to the wish list:  to spend at least two full weeks of summer somewhere along that particular coast.  Let's see...

 

The sun set as we slowly drove into Nice and we decided to end our Côte-d'Azur trip there.  After driving around and around the confusing one way streets of Nice a couple of times the now very grumpy husband finally found us a reasonably priced hotel where we checked in, freshened up and hit the streets again, in search of... well, more food of course.  Found ourselves a decent looking Indian restaurant, had some wonderful curry, then headed back to the hotel for some much needed sleep.  Who knew all that driving around could tire us out so much?

 

The next morning we set off again on the most direct route we could find to take us back to Avignon to finally explore the place I have been wanting to visit for so long.

 

The old town of Avignon lies within the greater city of Avignon and is completely enclosed by the original town wall.  We arrived in Avignon late afternoon and found a hotel just outside the wall, close to one of the many entrances to the old town.  After a quick check in and freshening up session we headed off to see Avignon proper before sunset. 

Town wall that completely surrounds old Avignon

 

Avignon used to be the Papal seat of John XXII, who commissioned the building of the Papal Palace in 1316 (It was only completed in 1370).  The town boasts many lovely old buildings, as well as new, modern ones.  It definitely looks like business is booming, with Haute Couture shops standing next to shops selling curios, standing next to quite a number of art museums.

 

The Papal Palace and square

 

Pssst! Brother, where did you get that fancy wingsuit?*

I noticed a sign for the Musée Angladon and we ducked in ten minutes before closing time, where the friendly curator allowed us free entrance and a quick glance around the ground floor of the museum.  We saw one Picasso sketch (I couldn't figure out the setting on my camera in time to take a flash-less picture), a couple of Degas paintings and also the painting I have been wanting to see:  Van Gogh's Wagons de Chemin de Fer (Railway Cars), painted in August 1888. 

 

Vincent Van Gogh, who is one of my favourite artists (closely followed by Picasso and Salvador Dali) spent two years in the Provence region, where he painted over 400 canvasses, the most famous of which is probably the breathtakingly beautiful 1889 painting, The Starry Night (Depicting the view outside Van Gogh's sanatorium window in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence). However, Wagons de Chemin de Fer is the only one on display in Provence.  For some reason I find the fact that the area that inspired and coaxed such magnificent work in and from Van Gogh, yet only has one of his paintings on show, extremely sad.

 

 

 

Way past sun set and after wandering the narrow, cobble stone streets of old Avignon for a couple of hours, we rewarded ourselves with a pint and a half of ice cold Guinness beer (my favourite), then headed back to the hotel for a much deserved snooze.

 

 

Up again early the next day, bought our train tickets to Marseilles, where we would catch our flight to Ciampino airport just outside Rome.  Italy, here we come!

 

 

* Wingsuit:  a type of skydiving suit with fabric under the arms and between the legs enabling the wearer to reduce his or her rate of fall.

 



Three Days in Provence...

...is not nearly long enough!

 

Strange how music and television can influence us.  I was still very young when I saw a dubbed television programme called "Die meisie van Avignon" (The girl from Avignon) in  the late 1970's and I have been wanting to visit Avignon ever since.  Then I heard the 1969 Peter Sarstedt hit "Where do you go to my lovely", and I was hooked on the region, made a promise to myself that I would one day visit the South of France to see what Avignon looks like and experience the Côte d'Azur.

 

For a trip down memory lane, click here: Theme song from "Die Meisie van Avignon" 

To listen to Peter Sarstedt's "Where do you go to my lovely", click here

 

With this in mind, and still on a bit of a high from our Leonard Cohen concert the previous night we got up very early on Sunday, 25^th August to start the next leg of our European adventure.  Humming "So long, Marianne" to ourselves, we hopped on the first of three trains for the day...  Off to Provence to meet Cameron and company for his 50^th birthday celebrations on the Monday.

 

I love train journeys, but I must admit that the romance of it wears off if you have exactly six minutes to gather all your luggage, jump off the train, run like mad to find the correct platform, board the next (and correct!) train, stow your luggage and find your assigned seats. 

Having first-hand experience of the precise Swiss transportation system and having been warned that, if we miss the second of our three trains, we will have a lot of trouble getting to Avignon on the same day, we ran between the two trains like insane people, dragging luggage, umbrellas and backpacks across the length of the station, down stairs, up escalators and into the next train carriage, just in time before the doors clunked shut behind us, literally with seconds to spare. 

 

Having cut my foot slightly on the escalator and thoroughly irritated with all the uncalled for exercise, I went into a sulk and slept the rest of the way, to be woken up in time to grab the luggage and repeat the same process for the last leg of our trip. 

Strangely enough, the second train left the Swiss station exactly on time, travelled the correct speed, by all accounts did not linger at any stops en route, but arrived at the French station twenty minutes late, so we were convinced that we missed the next connection.  Not so.  The French railway system is much more relaxed, it seems, and despite our panicked mad dash across the station, past Customs (where I did not have my passport stamped*) and despite being twenty minutes late, we still departed on the correct train for Avignon!

 
 

Arrived at Avignon station, rented a teeny-tiny little clown car (AKA a Citroen C1) and off we were again, to find our accommodation for the night in a small but lovely little town called Orange.  The decision to stay in Orange was two-fold: one, it was within spitting distance of Chateauneuf-du-Pape and, two, I love orange.  As soon as I saw a town called Orange on the map, I decided that I had to be completely surrounded by my favourite colour, even if for just once in my life!

 

For some reason we did not take any pictures of Orange.  We stayed in a gorgeous little Bed 'n Breakfast, we walked and walked the cobble-stoned streets of the town, passed massive chestnut trees and drinking fountains, we ate in a cosy restaurant mostly frequented by locals, so not a touristy place at all, but for some reason the camera stayed in the backpack the whole time.  Oh, correction, I took a picture of my food.  So, one picture taken in the very picturesque town of Orange.  Shame! 

The food was wonderful, but way too cutesy:  Fillet of beef with foie gras in a pastry parcel, some green stuff in the form of an upside-down muffin, a note (literally) of balsamic reduction and then some other veggie-type stuff I did not recognise fully but it was yummy, none the less!

 

 

On Monday morning we set off to the Chateauneuf-du-Pape vineyards and met our friends Cameron, his wife Claudia and the rest of their tour group (they were in the middle of a Mediterranean cruise) at the Cuvée du Vatican winery for a glimpse into wine making and, of course, a wine tasting.  The tour was very interesting and the tasting went by in a blur.  Then off to the nearby Chateau des Fines Roches for a superb lunch. 

 

Three Condies and a Wombat: 
Cameron, Claudia, Callum and Lorraine

After a deliciously boozy lunch we waved the Condies and company goodbye, promised to see them again in Rome and made our merry way back to the B'nB for a much needed siesta.

Lunch with a view!

 

 

Early Tuesday morning we pointed the nose of our little clown car in the direction of the French Riviera.  Côte d'Azur, here we come!

 

Later this week:  The Azure Coast and Avignon.

 

*  The borders between Switzerland and France, and between France and Italy seemed very fluid as my passport was not checked at any of these border crossings.  Found myself a little bit disappointed, as I now only have Swiss entry and Italian exit stamps in the passport to show for the trip!

 

Chop-chop!

Now this is a complete mystery to me.  I am not sure whether this is funny or really tragic. 

Today's topic:  Facebook. More specifically, Facebook friends.

 

I don't have a gazillion "friends" on Facebook.  I have my family, close friends, people I actually know and like.  In addition to them, I am also FB friends with a number of wonderfully likeminded people I "met" on-line when I did a creative writing course last year. I count them all as friends. Sixty-nine friends in total. 

I don't accept friend requests from strangers, I don't even accept friend requests from 99% of people I do know, without giving it a lot of thought.  I share private stuff, pictures, feelings, thoughts  (often completely random) on Facebook and therefore I feel I should only do that with people who know and possibly understand me.
 

So imagine my shock and horror when I noticed today that I suddenly only have 68 friends?  Who de-friended me? Why the sudden chop?

 

I started checking family and close friends. Nope, all there.  Then I checked my creative writing friends, then my Ammanite friends (Grammar Police, bless him, reckons it is Ammanites, I prefer Ammonites, but that's a story for another day).  School mates came next and this was easy, since I am not friends with a lot of people from either primary or high school.  Nope, no idea.

 

All in all I spent about an hour (ok, probably more) trying to figure out who was missing.  Who dumped me so unceremoniously?  This got me thinking...
 

Couldn't he/she at least say "goodbye"?  Sent a message?  Said look, you are dead boring, sayonara.  Or what about hey, I found your post about XYZ offensive, so goodbye forever. Don't call me, I'll call you.  Even listen up, I am only going to say this once, I am closing my FB account, don't try to find me, restraining orders to follow. 

 

All would have been better than the deafening silence, the bitter rejection! (A tad melodramatic? Imagine the seventeen page letters ex-boyfriends got from me in high school haha!* ) 
 

But I got nothing. Nada. Zip.  Sad thing is, I was clearly so close to this person that I missed him/her immediately. Not. 

How sad that the now unfriended friend was just another number.  Sorry, whoever you are.  Hope your other friends do better by you.**

***

 

*    Ok, ok, that carried on way beyond high school... Uhm...

** And my apologies to all those people I culled so unceremoniously from my friend list in the past.  Next time I'll say goodbye. 

***  Grammar Police and my best friend, Marilou (Actually Marilize - another long story why she's called Marilou) can't stop laughing at me about this... buggers!

 

Switzerland

Well, we are back from a wonderful twelve day trip to Switzerland, France and Italy.  Took us a couple of days to recover, but now things are back to normal, the much loved Grammar Police is back at work, Mila has stopped following me everywhere in case I disappear for days on end again, I have been cooking up a storm (last night was a sumptuous Madras curry), Eurotrip almost forgotten.

 

Before the memory fades and the reality of living in very close proximity to Syria takes over, let me tell you about our European jaunt:

 

As mentioned in previous posts, both André and I are big Leonard Cohen fans, so when we heard that LC would be performing in Zürich two days before we were due to meet up with birthday boy Cameron in the South of France, plans were adjusted and tickets were purchased. 

 

We found Zürich to be, uhm... well... very organised.  If the schedule states that a tram or bus will arrive at a certain point at 10:43am and depart at 10:46am, trust me, it does.  Time after time.  I was very impressed with the extreme organisation of the Swiss transportation system.  André, on the other hand, recons he would never be able to live in a place so completely devoid of chaos as we encountered in Zürich.  Even at the Hallenstadion, where Leonard Cohen performed, people formed two neat but very long queues at the entrance and patiently waited to be let into the theatre.  No need to get excited and form more than two queues, is there?  I found the severely organised country strangely comforting.  Who knew?

 

We spent a lot of time walking around the older part of Zürich, dashing in and out of stores, simply looking at what was available and comparing prices and products to those of Amman and Johannesburg.  I especially liked the COOPs, where you can buy anything from clothing and make-up to cheese and bottle openers, which we duly did.  I bought myself a mallet, which is almost impossible to get in Amman, unless I am looking in all the wrong places.  The man likes steak, you know?

 

Mallet purchased... ready for action!

It rained on Saturday morning and afternoon before the LC concert and we had to buy umbrellas to protect ourselves from the incessant rain. (I still have my very cute, bright orange one, but André lost his more manly black umbrella somewhere between the second and third train we took on the way to Avignon). 

 

As we were walking in downtown Zürich we happened upon a cozy Swiss restaurant that boasted 18 different types of fondues and 10 different ways to have raclette, so of course we had ourselves a raclette feast.  If you ever have the opportunity to have raclette, and if you love cheese, do not, I repeat, do not decline!  Raclette refers to the meal/dish, but also to the type of cheese you use.  Read more about it here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raclette    Yummmmm...

 

We chose the traditional Raclette, with the addition of bacon. Boiled baby potatoes are kept warm in the red & white checked bag, bacon and mushrooms are cooked on the grill on top of the raclette and the cheese is melted underneath the bacon-grill.  Once the cheese is melted, you pour it over your potatoes and other veggies. Not a quick meal, more a feast that can last over an hour, if you can eat that much! 

Tummies more than full after a huge meal, we set off, back to the hotel to make ourselves pretty for Leonard (not that he cared haha). 

 

The concert started at 8pm sharp (of course) and a very energetic 79 year-old LC kicked off the show with "Dance me to the end of love", followed by 24 more amazing songs.  Old favourites like "Everybody knows", "Hallelujah", "Sisters of mercy" and "So long, Marianne" had the (admittedly golden oldie) crowd at his feet. 

 

I loved, loved, loved "Who by fire" and "Take this waltz", but my favourite song of the evening was "Suzanne", which he performed absolutely brilliantly.  For someone who turns 80 on the 21^st September this year, this man can still throw down, boogie and thankfully get up again! And so, item number 20 of my wish list was checked off in a most enjoyable fashion.

 

The next morning we were up early to catch our series of three trains to Avignon and the next leg of our adventure.  More about that later...

 

In the meantime, click on the link below to listen to Leonard Cohen performing "Everybody knows"

Listen to Everybody Knows