| John Burkus |
Jul 19th, 2002 05:33 AM |
Each year for the past seven, my wife and I have been fortunate in being able to visit Provence. Last year I started keeping a diary. <BR>Additional information and pictures can be found at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/provence<BR><BR>NOTE: While you have to "register" to access this site you can avoid getting spam from Yahoo by going to Account Information and then Edit your marketing preferences.<BR><BR>Friday, August 24th, 2001<BR><BR>As might be expected with Ann (my wife) in charge of logistics, we arrived at the airport some three hours before the flight. Odd as it may seem the Air Transat check in to Lyon was a breeze.<BR>No sooner had we boarded the plane than I had that old "my God these seats are small" feeling. The plane an L1011 was jammed. Lots of small children in our immediate area, This as result of our having splurged $35CDN to get reserved bulkhead seats. The bulkhead being the place to which cots are attached. <BR><BR>Saturday, August 25th, 2001<BR><BR>As soon as one flies over France you notice the differences: immaculate small fields that are many shades of green and brown, villages everywhere, church steeples and of course the red tiled roofs. In the distance as we approached one could see the low rising mountains to the East.<BR><BR>Our having been the first on in Toronto meant that our luggage was the last off. One hour wait for the baggage in a hot stuffy people crowed hall. Exactly the same as what we encountered when we came home two weeks later! As I write this, it comes to me that the worst part of our trips is the getting there and back. The middle parts are usually great<BR><BR>After unsuccessfully trying to use my best Parisienne French to get a car upgrade from Avis, I settled on our almost new VW Golf Diesel. Tip: when booking on the Internet check for last minute car rental specials. We saved $90 as a result of my noticing in the New York Times that booking at least 30 days ahead had a better rate.<BR><BR>Airports to me are a curse. The signs are never as clear as they could be. This is the place where one is most likely to have an accident: jet lag, new car, language and local drivers who long ago decided that highways or roads of any kind are meant for speeding, passing and tailgating.<BR>After finally getting on the A7 heading South we discovered unusually heavy traffic heading both South and North. Cars were lined up 10 deep at the service stations.<BR><BR>For lunch (note to reader: I will have a lot to say about meals in that the food is one great reason for going to France in the first place) we stopped at one of the service centres that are very similar to ours. We had ham baguette, ils flotant - a type of custard with a glazing by blowtorch, and a lemon tart. An odd but safe combination for our first day in the old world.<BR><BR>Now for the real driving challenge. This began after we exited The A7 at l'Oriol direction la Voute. The directions we got from our first B & B said to allow 1-1/2 hours from the Autoroute. I thought they must be joking it didn't look all that far. This region of France is called the L'Ardeche. It is a series of low-rise mountains, forests, gorges, valleys, steep hillsides, rushing streams and roads that go from narrow to narrower. After St. Sauver de Montagut (if you are following this on a military map) the road got really narrow and twisty. Ann gets carsick but I hang on, or is it in? <BR><BR>After having overshot our destination by 3 km because the sign for the inn was on the left not the right and because there was no way even I was going down that switchback lane, we arrive at Le Moulinage de Charbriol. Went to bed at 4:00 p.m. and were up at 11:00 a.m. Sunday<BR><BR>..... see previos postings on this this thread for the whole diary<BR>
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