Provence, Dordogne and Northern Spain - The Tortured Teen Tour
Jun 7th, 2011, 02:36 PM
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 4,009
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Provence, Dordogne and Northern Spain - The Tortured Teen Tour
So, I hope to prepare a trip report, but I just couldn't leave Provence tomorrow without telling you all to come here.
We rented a wonderful mas (farmhouse) for a week. It is fully equipped, rustic and wonderful. It has easily slept the five of us, two adults and three teens. It is a complete pleasure to navigate the small vineyard to reach the pool just 40 meters from our porch.
The owner has great availability in May and June, so let me know if you need details.
We've wandered aimlessly with simple goals for our days, taking in wine, food, historic sites, cathedrals, markets, castles, dragon lore and roman ruins.
Our children are bickering over a fast game of gin rummy under the heady scent of the jasmine on the patio.
Today, we pulled over roadside to switch drivers. When we re-entered the car on our respective sides, we realized by the scent that we'd stepped into a thrash of mint growing wild on the roadside.
We have a thing with our kids that we started in New Orleans years ago. We follow the music, and more often than not, it turns out to be a great experience. Today, we followed the music through Tarascon to a gypsy band playing with reckless abandon in the main square in front of the Cafe de la Paix. I tried to buy some fantastic kitchen towels in the market. He was at 12 Euros for 12 towels and I was at 11 Euros for 12 towels. My stubborness overtook my common sense and I walked away.... which I now regret.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've left out the tortured teen parts, the proclamationon our second day that, "I don't speak the language, can't read the menu and just want to get to Spain where I'll at least be able to understand people. Why didn't you make me take French?" Ah, the burden we bear as parents.
Five days ago, we left Atlanta with our three teens, ages 13, 15 and 17. We started out calling it the Odd Teen Tour. But that has changed... I've been feeling guilty that I've left you all out, but reading my new book on Madame Tussaud's version of the French Revolution has stolen me away from any internet time I thought I'd spend. Then the moon rises, the stars shine, and I am mesmerized by a Van Gogh starry night and my share of a bottle of Aurelia.
More when I'm moved to write..... and I promise it will be better and even (perhaps) more organized.
We rented a wonderful mas (farmhouse) for a week. It is fully equipped, rustic and wonderful. It has easily slept the five of us, two adults and three teens. It is a complete pleasure to navigate the small vineyard to reach the pool just 40 meters from our porch.
The owner has great availability in May and June, so let me know if you need details.
We've wandered aimlessly with simple goals for our days, taking in wine, food, historic sites, cathedrals, markets, castles, dragon lore and roman ruins.
Our children are bickering over a fast game of gin rummy under the heady scent of the jasmine on the patio.
Today, we pulled over roadside to switch drivers. When we re-entered the car on our respective sides, we realized by the scent that we'd stepped into a thrash of mint growing wild on the roadside.
We have a thing with our kids that we started in New Orleans years ago. We follow the music, and more often than not, it turns out to be a great experience. Today, we followed the music through Tarascon to a gypsy band playing with reckless abandon in the main square in front of the Cafe de la Paix. I tried to buy some fantastic kitchen towels in the market. He was at 12 Euros for 12 towels and I was at 11 Euros for 12 towels. My stubborness overtook my common sense and I walked away.... which I now regret.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've left out the tortured teen parts, the proclamationon our second day that, "I don't speak the language, can't read the menu and just want to get to Spain where I'll at least be able to understand people. Why didn't you make me take French?" Ah, the burden we bear as parents.
Five days ago, we left Atlanta with our three teens, ages 13, 15 and 17. We started out calling it the Odd Teen Tour. But that has changed... I've been feeling guilty that I've left you all out, but reading my new book on Madame Tussaud's version of the French Revolution has stolen me away from any internet time I thought I'd spend. Then the moon rises, the stars shine, and I am mesmerized by a Van Gogh starry night and my share of a bottle of Aurelia.
More when I'm moved to write..... and I promise it will be better and even (perhaps) more organized.
Jun 8th, 2011, 08:23 AM
#5
Join Date: Jun 2005
Posts: 296
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Jun 8th, 2011, 09:00 AM
#7
Hahahaha! Can't wait for the rest. 
Next time you might choose a country where it's acceptable to beat children who are unappreciative and complaining! JK, loving your report and I feel your pain. I'll bet when you get home they will be telling all of their friends that thet had a great time.
Next time you might choose a country where it's acceptable to beat children who are unappreciative and complaining! JK, loving your report and I feel your pain. I'll bet when you get home they will be telling all of their friends that thet had a great time.
Jun 8th, 2011, 10:05 AM
#8
Join Date: Jun 2008
Posts: 29,608
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
LOL, TPAYT!
When my friend's daughter decided to quit piano, my friend demanded a signed statement that she would never hear the words "Why did you let me quit?!"
Come on, Continental_Drifter, tell us about the music!
When my friend's daughter decided to quit piano, my friend demanded a signed statement that she would never hear the words "Why did you let me quit?!"
Come on, Continental_Drifter, tell us about the music!
Jun 8th, 2011, 12:43 PM
#12
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 4,009
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Well, we're now in Carcassonne, but I hope to catch you up. TPAYT, you made me laugh. I'll need a list of those countries, please.
Starting at the beginning, we flew from Atlanta to Nice via Paris with a short layover. Now, these kids are seasoned travelers. They are R, 17, A, 15 and W, 13. A is our dear daughter. They've traveled with us from the time R was only a year old and have been from Paris to Bocas del Toro, Panama in their many travels. DD is so good at it that while I was stowing our bags overhead on the ATL to CDG flight, she changed out of her cuted little wrap dress and sandals to plaid PJ pants and t-shirt in the seat behind me without ever letting on that she was even changing or so much as a simple flash of unmentionables. They boys settled in with their respective Kindles and DD snuggled back with the movie list. DH putzed about, helping petite older women with their enormous carry-ons in hopes to avoid them completely blocking the aisle and delaying takeoff. I got out my book. The flight was uneventful from there, except for a snoring seatmate across the aisle.
Flights landed and took off on time and before we even knew it, we were in Nice departing in our EuropeCar - A VW Touron. That's especially funny to us, as when I was growing up on the Outer Banks of NC, we called the weekly renters Tourons. As in, "Tourists" and "Morons" combined. Now, I are one and my car says so. I was just hoping it was not an ominous sign of things to come. The rental also went seamlessly, but for some consternation behind the counter about how much the drop off charge was going to be in Madrid. 300 Euros? 500 Euros? Finally, they settled on 300 Euros for the drop off fee. I don't even want to tell you how much they reserved on the card. LOL
Prior to departure, I printed off directions for each leg of our trip on www.viamichelin.com. So handy. Includes not only every single turn, exit, price of fuel, amounts of tolls, but even has the mile posts marked where the radar/speeding cameras are located.
So, with my Michelin directions in hand (and on my Blackberry, just in case) we drove straight from Nice to Saint Andiol and the Mas de Peupliers. I was a little nervous since the last 20 km of directions we had from Marie, the owner were in French, but I must remember more French than I thought. We drove straight to the Mas and arrived in the rain just after dark. While it is rustic, Marie has some rather progressive touches. We noticed a motion detector that alerts her of our departure and arrival. While we have our own driveway and entrance via a long drive between the farrowing, and through apple trees to our house for the week, we saw a flash of white flying low through the small vineyard. Arriving at the end of our driveway, we found a darling golden retriever posted to make our acquaintance and lead us to our door. Zazzie was our borrowed bon chien for the holiday.
We took off for the town and found a pizzeria just closing, but they were willing to stay open to serve us. The kids were happy to see familiar food and it comforted all of us. DH picked up a few bottles of wine in the store next door and we headed back to the mas.
We settled into perfectly pressed sheets (yeah, I know. I'm the sheet snob. Bite me. LOL) and I was thrilled with the quality of the pillow cases. I'm sure the kids were just as happy in their bunks, with their lofty comforters, as we heard no complaints.
Waking to a drizzle the next morning was not the way I imagined the start of our vacation in Provence. However, it did make the jasmine growing on the pergola over the patio ever more fragrant. There is a separate apartment upstairs that was unoccupied during our visit. Built in 1825 of stone and mortar, with massive beams, it was completely silent, even when our sons used the shower upstairs.
Undaunted, we set out for L'isle Sur la Sorgue, Fountaine del Valcluse and Gordes. L'isle was prettier and more charming than I expected. The entire town is connected across large creeks and rivers. The river Sorgue divides the town. Remains of water wheels from mills of the past remain. Saturday is quiet and we thought we'd just stop through and get the lay of the land prior to market day on Sunday. This little "Venice of France" is known for its antique and regular markets.
We found parking just as the bottom dropped out. Running between raindrops, we ducked into a cafe just adjacent to the 12th century cathedral. We were warmly welcomed as locals gave up their stools at the bar for me and DD. Shaking off the rain, we quickly encountered a high spirited discussion between the bar tender and the patrons on English grammar. Thinking that we were Australian, they asked if we knew American English grammar. We burst into laughter and explained that we could help. This led to a French lesson for the kids, including how our sons should ask a French girl for a date and an explanation of the word "chouet" as "cool."
It stopped raining and we made our way to Fontaine del Valcluse. The kids were certain that we would find the mysterious source, but alas, they did not. No feat of their intellect resulted in a reasonable conclusion that scientists before them didn't already consider.
Winding up our way to Gordes, we were pleasantly surprised by the lovely mountaintop town. We had lunch in a cafe and wandered about the chateau, now an art gallery. Tempting, but knowing that the teens might have a short fuse at this point, we wandered our way back just in time for the sun to peek through and give us some pool time. I drove into town, picked up some dinner supplies and we had dinner under the jasmine.
The perfect thing about Saint Andiol and this mas is its location. It's just 10km south of Saint Remy. It's easy to reach both Avignon and just a 40 minute ride down the highway, or the back roads which we took, to Aix en Provence.
And next.... Sunday Market Madness in L'isle Sur la Sorge....
Starting at the beginning, we flew from Atlanta to Nice via Paris with a short layover. Now, these kids are seasoned travelers. They are R, 17, A, 15 and W, 13. A is our dear daughter. They've traveled with us from the time R was only a year old and have been from Paris to Bocas del Toro, Panama in their many travels. DD is so good at it that while I was stowing our bags overhead on the ATL to CDG flight, she changed out of her cuted little wrap dress and sandals to plaid PJ pants and t-shirt in the seat behind me without ever letting on that she was even changing or so much as a simple flash of unmentionables. They boys settled in with their respective Kindles and DD snuggled back with the movie list. DH putzed about, helping petite older women with their enormous carry-ons in hopes to avoid them completely blocking the aisle and delaying takeoff. I got out my book. The flight was uneventful from there, except for a snoring seatmate across the aisle.
Flights landed and took off on time and before we even knew it, we were in Nice departing in our EuropeCar - A VW Touron. That's especially funny to us, as when I was growing up on the Outer Banks of NC, we called the weekly renters Tourons. As in, "Tourists" and "Morons" combined. Now, I are one and my car says so. I was just hoping it was not an ominous sign of things to come. The rental also went seamlessly, but for some consternation behind the counter about how much the drop off charge was going to be in Madrid. 300 Euros? 500 Euros? Finally, they settled on 300 Euros for the drop off fee. I don't even want to tell you how much they reserved on the card. LOL
Prior to departure, I printed off directions for each leg of our trip on www.viamichelin.com. So handy. Includes not only every single turn, exit, price of fuel, amounts of tolls, but even has the mile posts marked where the radar/speeding cameras are located.
So, with my Michelin directions in hand (and on my Blackberry, just in case) we drove straight from Nice to Saint Andiol and the Mas de Peupliers. I was a little nervous since the last 20 km of directions we had from Marie, the owner were in French, but I must remember more French than I thought. We drove straight to the Mas and arrived in the rain just after dark. While it is rustic, Marie has some rather progressive touches. We noticed a motion detector that alerts her of our departure and arrival. While we have our own driveway and entrance via a long drive between the farrowing, and through apple trees to our house for the week, we saw a flash of white flying low through the small vineyard. Arriving at the end of our driveway, we found a darling golden retriever posted to make our acquaintance and lead us to our door. Zazzie was our borrowed bon chien for the holiday.
We took off for the town and found a pizzeria just closing, but they were willing to stay open to serve us. The kids were happy to see familiar food and it comforted all of us. DH picked up a few bottles of wine in the store next door and we headed back to the mas.
We settled into perfectly pressed sheets (yeah, I know. I'm the sheet snob. Bite me. LOL) and I was thrilled with the quality of the pillow cases. I'm sure the kids were just as happy in their bunks, with their lofty comforters, as we heard no complaints.
Waking to a drizzle the next morning was not the way I imagined the start of our vacation in Provence. However, it did make the jasmine growing on the pergola over the patio ever more fragrant. There is a separate apartment upstairs that was unoccupied during our visit. Built in 1825 of stone and mortar, with massive beams, it was completely silent, even when our sons used the shower upstairs.
Undaunted, we set out for L'isle Sur la Sorgue, Fountaine del Valcluse and Gordes. L'isle was prettier and more charming than I expected. The entire town is connected across large creeks and rivers. The river Sorgue divides the town. Remains of water wheels from mills of the past remain. Saturday is quiet and we thought we'd just stop through and get the lay of the land prior to market day on Sunday. This little "Venice of France" is known for its antique and regular markets.
We found parking just as the bottom dropped out. Running between raindrops, we ducked into a cafe just adjacent to the 12th century cathedral. We were warmly welcomed as locals gave up their stools at the bar for me and DD. Shaking off the rain, we quickly encountered a high spirited discussion between the bar tender and the patrons on English grammar. Thinking that we were Australian, they asked if we knew American English grammar. We burst into laughter and explained that we could help. This led to a French lesson for the kids, including how our sons should ask a French girl for a date and an explanation of the word "chouet" as "cool."
It stopped raining and we made our way to Fontaine del Valcluse. The kids were certain that we would find the mysterious source, but alas, they did not. No feat of their intellect resulted in a reasonable conclusion that scientists before them didn't already consider.
Winding up our way to Gordes, we were pleasantly surprised by the lovely mountaintop town. We had lunch in a cafe and wandered about the chateau, now an art gallery. Tempting, but knowing that the teens might have a short fuse at this point, we wandered our way back just in time for the sun to peek through and give us some pool time. I drove into town, picked up some dinner supplies and we had dinner under the jasmine.
The perfect thing about Saint Andiol and this mas is its location. It's just 10km south of Saint Remy. It's easy to reach both Avignon and just a 40 minute ride down the highway, or the back roads which we took, to Aix en Provence.
And next.... Sunday Market Madness in L'isle Sur la Sorge....
Jun 9th, 2011, 05:43 AM
#16
Just a thought
You could, on future trips, choose a country to help them gain some perspective on the material advantages they have in life----like maybe Haiti or the Sudan.
Again, JK. You are fortunate to be able to share such interesting travels with your children. Looking forward to the next installment.
You could, on future trips, choose a country to help them gain some perspective on the material advantages they have in life----like maybe Haiti or the Sudan.
Again, JK. You are fortunate to be able to share such interesting travels with your children. Looking forward to the next installment.
Jun 11th, 2011, 12:00 AM
#17
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 4,009
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
TPAYT - We're lucky that they do know how forunate they are, as they have traveled to some "off the map" placed in Costa Rica and Panama. I don't know if any of us are ready for Haiti or the Sudan - yet.
And on to the market... Sunday morning, market day, was stunning. Just the weather alone made us wake up early and after a quick swim, we drove the 20km or so up to L'isle Sur la Sorgue. What I didn't expect about Provence was the amount of industrialism. Of course, it make sense, as the area is very agricultural, so it's a necessity. More often than not, though, you will find yourself looking at a hilltop castle ruin over a commercial stone or packaging company. While Provence is beautiful,these industrial areas are part of the countryside. I suppose it could be possible to screen these companies from view, but we don't do that here in the US, so why on Earth would I expect it here?
Anyway - THE MARKET. Fabulous Market.
I'm staring, lost in thought. Five, no just four. No, it really is five. There are five colors of currants nestled into a single basket in the fruit stall and they look like a still life painting. From pearly white to nearly black, with pink and orange in between. Stepping back to photograph them, I find myself stepping onto the feet of my 17 year old dear son, who complains that I should have used those eyes in the back of my head. Why he has to be on my heels so close, I have no idea. He's a big guy at 6' 5" and 175 pounds. He towers over most other people. He hastily explains that he was trying to figure out what I was looking at. He takes the camera from me and snaps the pics himself, then continues on down to the olives, fruit, the cheeses and the meats. He returns to share that the stinky cheese is overwhelming. I was a little disappointed, as though he'd just told me the end of the next pirates movie. I love stinky cheeses.
DH gave each of the kids 20 euros, telling them not to spend it all in one place and for the boys to stay together. This is really their first chance at freedom, but DD wants to stay with me.
The 15 and 17 year olds both work, with DD waiting tables at the marina and DS working the marina store and gas dock. They have their own spending money for the trip, but the 13 year old is very careful with his spending. He still has the same $100 from his birthday last year and the $100 from his birthday this year. He knows what he wants - a long board in Barcelona.
I start picking through the stalls. I pick up some olive wood spoons and a cheese tray. I wanted to buy pottery, but it was just too expensive and too hard to ship. I bought some olives and nibbled on those as I wandered with DD chatting an endless description of everything we're seeing. Since she was two, we've called her "Rebel Without a Pause" because her chattyness can fill all airspace. But it's cute, as she's so "into" the market scene. We're surprised by how expensive everything is in the market. We run back into DH and the boys and discover that The boys have bought me a little present - a beautiful spoon rest - the same one I'd bought myself moments before. Ah-ha. Both will return with us as a gift to someone.
DD buys one of the all-cotton dresses and some sandals and DH picks up some lavender sachets for the girls at the office. Hmmmm.... we'll see how that goes with customs....
Suddenly, the vendors start shutting down their stalls and we decide it's time to go find Nostradamus' birth place in St. Remy. To put it as W said it, "Let's go find Nostradamus and some more old stuff."
We took the indirect route back to the car, passing over many little bridges, feeding the fattest ducks I've ever seen and generally getting lost watching the water trickle from one pool along the way into the next. L'isle Sur la Sorgue is charming, with a permanent antiques market by the train station and a Sunday market that certainly does not fail your expectations. We loved our day there.
Heading off to St. Remy, we took two diversions into domaines along with way. Without asking, the young woman behind the counter poured the first rose' for four.... including our 15 and 17 year olds. They've sipped our wine at home before, always wrinkling noses and and nearly gagging. I held my breath... They politely tasted, held back the wrinkles and gagging and mimicked DH's swirling and appreciation of the color. They excused themselves, kind of giggled and slipped outside. But... the rose was excellent. Impressive, even, at just 7 euros a bottle. Yes, we'll take two. No, they don't export. Their wines are only for local consumption. Yes, that means they are saving the best stuff for themselves....
We made a quick stop by Nostrdamus' birthplace. I was prepared with many examples of his accurate predictions. What did the kids latch on to? The fact that he was a doctor and that his first book was a recipe books. They started making up titles of recipes that could have been in the book. Yum, mom.... here's what to do with that pus from that sore... serve it like escargot. Gross. But, they really cracked each other up for the next half hour.
Then, it was off to Glanum, the ruins of one of the oldest Roman settlements in France. Lovely. We had a terrific afternoon, enjoying the ruins and driving back through Saint Remy for a quick early dinner of a beautiful salad with smoked duck, pasta and pate. The kids all tried the duck and while the taste was very good and a bit bacon-like, the thought of our ducks at the lake back home kept them from consuming more than a bite or two. They food was elegantly prepared for such a small simple cafe.
We meandered back to the house and ended the day with our wine, snacking on country style cantal cheese and a bowl of olives.
Next, a day in Tarascon in search of the dragon...
And on to the market... Sunday morning, market day, was stunning. Just the weather alone made us wake up early and after a quick swim, we drove the 20km or so up to L'isle Sur la Sorgue. What I didn't expect about Provence was the amount of industrialism. Of course, it make sense, as the area is very agricultural, so it's a necessity. More often than not, though, you will find yourself looking at a hilltop castle ruin over a commercial stone or packaging company. While Provence is beautiful,these industrial areas are part of the countryside. I suppose it could be possible to screen these companies from view, but we don't do that here in the US, so why on Earth would I expect it here?
Anyway - THE MARKET. Fabulous Market.
I'm staring, lost in thought. Five, no just four. No, it really is five. There are five colors of currants nestled into a single basket in the fruit stall and they look like a still life painting. From pearly white to nearly black, with pink and orange in between. Stepping back to photograph them, I find myself stepping onto the feet of my 17 year old dear son, who complains that I should have used those eyes in the back of my head. Why he has to be on my heels so close, I have no idea. He's a big guy at 6' 5" and 175 pounds. He towers over most other people. He hastily explains that he was trying to figure out what I was looking at. He takes the camera from me and snaps the pics himself, then continues on down to the olives, fruit, the cheeses and the meats. He returns to share that the stinky cheese is overwhelming. I was a little disappointed, as though he'd just told me the end of the next pirates movie. I love stinky cheeses.
DH gave each of the kids 20 euros, telling them not to spend it all in one place and for the boys to stay together. This is really their first chance at freedom, but DD wants to stay with me.
The 15 and 17 year olds both work, with DD waiting tables at the marina and DS working the marina store and gas dock. They have their own spending money for the trip, but the 13 year old is very careful with his spending. He still has the same $100 from his birthday last year and the $100 from his birthday this year. He knows what he wants - a long board in Barcelona.
I start picking through the stalls. I pick up some olive wood spoons and a cheese tray. I wanted to buy pottery, but it was just too expensive and too hard to ship. I bought some olives and nibbled on those as I wandered with DD chatting an endless description of everything we're seeing. Since she was two, we've called her "Rebel Without a Pause" because her chattyness can fill all airspace. But it's cute, as she's so "into" the market scene. We're surprised by how expensive everything is in the market. We run back into DH and the boys and discover that The boys have bought me a little present - a beautiful spoon rest - the same one I'd bought myself moments before. Ah-ha. Both will return with us as a gift to someone.
DD buys one of the all-cotton dresses and some sandals and DH picks up some lavender sachets for the girls at the office. Hmmmm.... we'll see how that goes with customs....
Suddenly, the vendors start shutting down their stalls and we decide it's time to go find Nostradamus' birth place in St. Remy. To put it as W said it, "Let's go find Nostradamus and some more old stuff."
We took the indirect route back to the car, passing over many little bridges, feeding the fattest ducks I've ever seen and generally getting lost watching the water trickle from one pool along the way into the next. L'isle Sur la Sorgue is charming, with a permanent antiques market by the train station and a Sunday market that certainly does not fail your expectations. We loved our day there.
Heading off to St. Remy, we took two diversions into domaines along with way. Without asking, the young woman behind the counter poured the first rose' for four.... including our 15 and 17 year olds. They've sipped our wine at home before, always wrinkling noses and and nearly gagging. I held my breath... They politely tasted, held back the wrinkles and gagging and mimicked DH's swirling and appreciation of the color. They excused themselves, kind of giggled and slipped outside. But... the rose was excellent. Impressive, even, at just 7 euros a bottle. Yes, we'll take two. No, they don't export. Their wines are only for local consumption. Yes, that means they are saving the best stuff for themselves....
We made a quick stop by Nostrdamus' birthplace. I was prepared with many examples of his accurate predictions. What did the kids latch on to? The fact that he was a doctor and that his first book was a recipe books. They started making up titles of recipes that could have been in the book. Yum, mom.... here's what to do with that pus from that sore... serve it like escargot. Gross. But, they really cracked each other up for the next half hour.
Then, it was off to Glanum, the ruins of one of the oldest Roman settlements in France. Lovely. We had a terrific afternoon, enjoying the ruins and driving back through Saint Remy for a quick early dinner of a beautiful salad with smoked duck, pasta and pate. The kids all tried the duck and while the taste was very good and a bit bacon-like, the thought of our ducks at the lake back home kept them from consuming more than a bite or two. They food was elegantly prepared for such a small simple cafe.
We meandered back to the house and ended the day with our wine, snacking on country style cantal cheese and a bowl of olives.
Next, a day in Tarascon in search of the dragon...
