Slow Travels in Provence with My (Elderly) Mother
Oct 11th, 2005, 06:19 PM
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haha! yes cigalechanta! How did you know? I guess shabby chateau was the give away? I have to say though, it was quite charming even if it was a little rough around the edges....and we felt as though we had gone back in time.
Oct 12th, 2005, 06:04 AM
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You both guessed correctly - but please know that this is a place that we thought was charming and both loved dearly. As a matter of fact, we had stayed there about seven times in the past and had become quite close to the manager. This last time, however, we were surprised at the sad state of the Chateau. It's almost as if they've given up on it and don't care enough to do the bare minimum. Believe me, I wish it were otherwise.
Oct 12th, 2005, 12:20 PM
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bonjour all! lavande, your posts are wonderful--please keep them up!
this is my first post; i'm getting married in may, and we're honeymooning in provence. this will be the first trip for both of us, and i would love to hear any recommendations and reservations about hotels, restaurants, scenic drives, etc. we'd love some small b&bs and hideaway places. thank you!
this is my first post; i'm getting married in may, and we're honeymooning in provence. this will be the first trip for both of us, and i would love to hear any recommendations and reservations about hotels, restaurants, scenic drives, etc. we'd love some small b&bs and hideaway places. thank you!
Oct 13th, 2005, 04:16 AM
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Thank you, dear Scarlett, for the link to this thread from the US boards.
This is, indeed, a delight to read. Brings back so many wonderful memories of recent trips with my parents.
Just the mention of liver spots and potty stops gets me laughing. So very true.
This is, indeed, a delight to read. Brings back so many wonderful memories of recent trips with my parents.
Just the mention of liver spots and potty stops gets me laughing. So very true.
Oct 13th, 2005, 03:18 PM
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Upon arriving in St. Remy proper, we find that, once again, the carnival has just pulled into town. While the carnival is a source of wonderment and fun for the children of the area, we are left to wonder how we are able to so perfectly time our last four trips to St. Remy to coincide almost precisely with the bumper cars, games of chance, and other midway faves. I don't know whether it's the warning of my youth to "stay away from those carnival types," or the lack of public parking their arrival always creates, but we are most sad that this fete will take the place of the regular Wednesday market!
As we will find over the next few days, the only saving grace is that my Mother's age and my bad knees make market days considerably less enjoyable than they used to be. But, oh to be able to once again ramble amongst the stalls of braided purple garlic, piles of bright green artichokes, saucisson wagons, an indescribably vast selection of chevres, and the chicken rotisserie redolent with the aroma of roasting poultry and vegetables. Those are the sights and smells that activate our memories (and salivary glands)! From the most miserly pile of just-hatched farm eggs - to the piglets and baby goats - to the vats of every shape and color of olives - the markets of Provence are a virtual cacophony of sounds, smells, and colors. But these are thoughts from the past - the future awaits us just around the bend.
As we will find over the next few days, the only saving grace is that my Mother's age and my bad knees make market days considerably less enjoyable than they used to be. But, oh to be able to once again ramble amongst the stalls of braided purple garlic, piles of bright green artichokes, saucisson wagons, an indescribably vast selection of chevres, and the chicken rotisserie redolent with the aroma of roasting poultry and vegetables. Those are the sights and smells that activate our memories (and salivary glands)! From the most miserly pile of just-hatched farm eggs - to the piglets and baby goats - to the vats of every shape and color of olives - the markets of Provence are a virtual cacophony of sounds, smells, and colors. But these are thoughts from the past - the future awaits us just around the bend.
Oct 16th, 2005, 01:50 PM
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After circling St. Remy to find a parking spot (somehow my Mother thinks it is altogether possible and acceptable to wedge our car between tree and dumpster), Mom and I "sprinted" through the now pouring rain into the Bistrot des Alpilles -- one of our favorite dinner spots in the past and still a good bet even under new ownership. The "old" -- as you age, old becomes a relative term -- waiters were still there, welcomed us in out of the storm, and at least pretended to remember us. As the torrential rain continued to beat down on the canvas awning outside and the thunder rolled on, we wound down our day with a lovely meal -- a repast with a definite emphasis on the seasonal cepes. We had cream of cepes soup, cepes and girolles with penne pasta, and a lovely roasted canard breast (sans cepes). (As the days went by, we had cepes in every conceivable concoction and counted ourselves very lucky indeed for being there in cepes season.) We became one with the cepes. Now, if we could only enjoy the cepes without the carnival noise as accompaniment!
Back to the Chateau where we made the decision to look elsewhere for a room in the morning --fortuitously (and strangely for I'm rarely this organized), I had brought along an Internet ad for a B&B in Maussane les Alpilles which we decided to check out in the morning. We have always loved Maussane and welcomed this opportunity to learn more of it.
Back to the Chateau where we made the decision to look elsewhere for a room in the morning --fortuitously (and strangely for I'm rarely this organized), I had brought along an Internet ad for a B&B in Maussane les Alpilles which we decided to check out in the morning. We have always loved Maussane and welcomed this opportunity to learn more of it.
Oct 16th, 2005, 02:20 PM
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Unfortunately for us, PB was in the States so we couldn't move into her lovely Moulin.
Upon coming down for le petit dejeuner, we were told by the manager that our rental car had mysteriously developed a flat tire. The fact that this followed our decision to check out was surely happenstance! We made the 15 minute drive from St. Remy to Maussane, found the B&B with little difficulty, and were fortunate that there was a lovely, simple (and immaculate) room available, and it faced on the pool with olive tree lined sunning terrace. Too bad that Mother had left her swimsuit at home but she said that since the knees now had holes in the material, she had retired her "bathing costume." I like to think that she was kidding but who knows?
As an aside, we are wondering if anyone else has trouble with European bathtubs? We've found that they're very narrow (good for wedging in ones' bottom but difficult to extricate same), extraordinarily high and, thus, quite deep! My Mother is 5' and I'm 5'1" - and we both seem to be shrinking by the hour. Thus, getting in and out of the tub often poses a rather difficult problem - should I somehow get in and then try to lift Mother in or should I take the ass backwards approach and boost from the rear? The former seems to work the best but we're always looking for suggestions (bypassing bathing is not an option, thank you!).
Of course, that is the least of our worries this morning, as we have to drive back to Marignane Airport to drop off the now injured (spare tire-less) car and pick up a "new" one at Hertz.
Easy, right? Drive down the peage at 120 kph, whirl around the parking lot, and hop into a new car . . . but Hertz saw fit to charge us for the airport drop-off/pick-up, used petrol (why fill it up before drop off as it was, theoretically, their fault?), and gave us a car that had apparently already seen its best days on the Autoroute.
Further, and perhaps most appalling, they did not have a toilet available for Mother's use. One critical thing to keep in mind when traveling with the elderly, do not expect to use the rental car company bathroom at the Airport. Ostensibly, they have none and we were referred to the Airport loo -- a short walk unless your knees and thighs are pinched together so tightly that you appear to be perpetually hobbled -- shuffling along as you try to keep life and . . . together! Not being able to quickly get into a bathroom can seem life-threatening to an elderly companion traveler, so before approaching the Airport, take notice and stop at one of those lovely stops along the Autoroute. Mother is now on a first-name basis with the most of the WC attendants -- and a lovely group they are!
But, since we're now working on maintaining a positive attitude (and they're going to charge it to my credit card anyway)we head back in the direction of Cavaillon for a lunch on the square in Maussane. And, what could possibly be better than a glass (or two) of rose, two salades de chevre chaud, and a basket of bread?
When we're thoroughly revived we head off for the Les Olivades outlet where I have promised another jacket to my Mother (she already had three in the closet from past visits). The subjects of jacket color and style have been the source of many discussions over the last four years since we last looted Les Olivades, and Mother now has a new lease in life in anticipation of the booty.
Upon coming down for le petit dejeuner, we were told by the manager that our rental car had mysteriously developed a flat tire. The fact that this followed our decision to check out was surely happenstance! We made the 15 minute drive from St. Remy to Maussane, found the B&B with little difficulty, and were fortunate that there was a lovely, simple (and immaculate) room available, and it faced on the pool with olive tree lined sunning terrace. Too bad that Mother had left her swimsuit at home but she said that since the knees now had holes in the material, she had retired her "bathing costume." I like to think that she was kidding but who knows?
As an aside, we are wondering if anyone else has trouble with European bathtubs? We've found that they're very narrow (good for wedging in ones' bottom but difficult to extricate same), extraordinarily high and, thus, quite deep! My Mother is 5' and I'm 5'1" - and we both seem to be shrinking by the hour. Thus, getting in and out of the tub often poses a rather difficult problem - should I somehow get in and then try to lift Mother in or should I take the ass backwards approach and boost from the rear? The former seems to work the best but we're always looking for suggestions (bypassing bathing is not an option, thank you!).
Of course, that is the least of our worries this morning, as we have to drive back to Marignane Airport to drop off the now injured (spare tire-less) car and pick up a "new" one at Hertz.
Easy, right? Drive down the peage at 120 kph, whirl around the parking lot, and hop into a new car . . . but Hertz saw fit to charge us for the airport drop-off/pick-up, used petrol (why fill it up before drop off as it was, theoretically, their fault?), and gave us a car that had apparently already seen its best days on the Autoroute.
Further, and perhaps most appalling, they did not have a toilet available for Mother's use. One critical thing to keep in mind when traveling with the elderly, do not expect to use the rental car company bathroom at the Airport. Ostensibly, they have none and we were referred to the Airport loo -- a short walk unless your knees and thighs are pinched together so tightly that you appear to be perpetually hobbled -- shuffling along as you try to keep life and . . . together! Not being able to quickly get into a bathroom can seem life-threatening to an elderly companion traveler, so before approaching the Airport, take notice and stop at one of those lovely stops along the Autoroute. Mother is now on a first-name basis with the most of the WC attendants -- and a lovely group they are!
But, since we're now working on maintaining a positive attitude (and they're going to charge it to my credit card anyway)we head back in the direction of Cavaillon for a lunch on the square in Maussane. And, what could possibly be better than a glass (or two) of rose, two salades de chevre chaud, and a basket of bread?
When we're thoroughly revived we head off for the Les Olivades outlet where I have promised another jacket to my Mother (she already had three in the closet from past visits). The subjects of jacket color and style have been the source of many discussions over the last four years since we last looted Les Olivades, and Mother now has a new lease in life in anticipation of the booty.
Oct 17th, 2005, 12:39 PM
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Lavande, the bathtubs are the recent design. A friend of ours in Paris had his living unit built recently in a former warehouse, and while the bathtub looked like the old ones, he discovered that it uses much less water, probably because it is narrower.
Oct 17th, 2005, 01:52 PM
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Oh, Lavande, I am loving this. My (then) 83-year-old Mum and I travelled to Italy together to surprise my daughter on her 16th birthdy: she was at school near Rome. The trip was funny and beautiful and irritating and wonderful for all three of us and your wit and wisdom bring it all back to me.
I only take, en passent, exception to one niggling little thing from your intitial remarks; Newfoundland, where I am lucky enough to live now, in my third career, is indeed dark and lovely. It is not a "wasteland", as any of those travellers who come in increasing numbers by camper, car and cruise ship, would be happy to second.
Happy memories...
I only take, en passent, exception to one niggling little thing from your intitial remarks; Newfoundland, where I am lucky enough to live now, in my third career, is indeed dark and lovely. It is not a "wasteland", as any of those travellers who come in increasing numbers by camper, car and cruise ship, would be happy to second.
Happy memories...
Oct 17th, 2005, 01:58 PM
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I somehow knew that the unfortunate Newfoundland remark would hit a sour note - wish that I had passed on that one. Remember when all trans-Atlantic flights stopped in Gander for refueling before taking on the Atlantic crossing? I distinctly remember disembarking at the Gander airport, walking across the runway into the terminal and waiting until they had "topped off the tank." Truly, the extreme green of the Newfoundland woods juxtaposed against the rocky coastline is something to behold -- is it much like Maine? Or perhaps I should say is Maine much like Newfoundland? Sorry!!
Oct 17th, 2005, 02:02 PM
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Ira: To my mind the only thing that can compare with cepes season is strawberry season - I've never had such perfectly huge and ripe (right down to the stem) specimens of this delectable fruit. And, they're great finger food to eat while driving through the countryside. There's a marvelous strawberry (only strawberries) stand outside of Pernes where we stop in May and buy kilos of the berries (Mother is an unabashed lover of good strawberries - not to be confused with those pinkish numbers covered in cellophane at Safeway).
Of course, we should give credit to the artichokes, almonds, olives, truffles, Cavaillon melons, and all other such fruits of the gods when they're in season. Provence is indeed the corne de abondance of France!
Of course, we should give credit to the artichokes, almonds, olives, truffles, Cavaillon melons, and all other such fruits of the gods when they're in season. Provence is indeed the corne de abondance of France!
Oct 17th, 2005, 02:20 PM
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The Les Olivades outlet is no longer cash-on-the-fabric bolt! They have discovered Visa (and with it, undoubtedly, greater profits)!! This news sends Mother into a tailspin - what shall we look at first, the highly-prized (and oft-remarked upon) jacket, table linens, quilted duffels, cotton scarves, jean-style pants? To my mind, anything "done up" in a Provencal print is eminently buyable. What colors, what patterns, what imagination - and they fit my tiny Mother to a tee. If you've never seen an 88 year old in an ochre color Indienne print jacket or sage-green paisley print jeans, you've never glimpsed what could have been a clownish sight turned delightfully fun - she looks absolutely smashing and is so happy with our purchases, that she beams (wearing a sunny jaune teeshirt helps build the aura). (Who knew that we would return almost everyday thereafter to see what "new" items may have come in and we never left this wonderful store once without a goodie or two.)
Reviewing the day's views, events, meals, and buys (our version of show-and-tell) is the perfect lead-in to our next favorite game: where shall we have dinner? Who would have thought we'd get it off the side of a wagon?
Reviewing the day's views, events, meals, and buys (our version of show-and-tell) is the perfect lead-in to our next favorite game: where shall we have dinner? Who would have thought we'd get it off the side of a wagon?
Oct 17th, 2005, 03:07 PM
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Who would ever have guessed that one of our most fun meals would arrive on wheels in the Maussane town square? That's right - Serge's Pizza Wagon! As we sat by the fountain opposite the van sipping a lovely, cool rose we couldn't help but notice that a number of locals would drop by Serge's, chat with the owner/chef, and then head home with a hot pizza in hand. We didn't have any other plans and were told that we could eat the pizza at our table on the square so I was sent on a mission to buy something hot and gooey that would satisfy the hunger pangs (after all, it had been at least four hours since we last ate something). The Quatre Fromage pizza won our hearts and stomachs - gooey with four wonderful cheeses (no faux (American) cheese among them), freshly-snipped basil, and ripe olives. Thank goodness Mother still has her own God-given teeth - this volcanic cheese mixture could have wreaked permanent havoc with dentures. It was delicious and a deal at 10 euros!
However, on this trip we had a devilish time avoiding (no such thing) the mosquitos! The cafe waiter in Maussane came to take our order equipped with a can of mosquito repellent which he offered along with the wine - very ingenious but the mosquitos prevailed. We'd never had a mosquito problem before and certainly lived through it but it was a bit of a nuisance nonetheless. Somehow things are less problemmatic in Provence!
Tomorrow we're off to Nyons olive country - I'm amazed not to have read more of Nyons on this website. It is surely located in one of the most beautiful spots on earth and their ripe olives have no match. Plus, you go through such beautiful countryside - Vaison la Romaine, Crestet, Seguret, Beaumes de Venise - on the way! It's usually the longest drive of our trip (only about 2 hours from St. Remy) which is restful for Mother and an opportunity to drink in the beauty before buying up the vacuum-packed olives and tapenade (olives and Les Olivades - seems to be a theme?!) at the Nyons cooperative. Our eyes are never bigger than our stomachs when we buy these olives - they'll continue to give us pleasure for many months to come.
But we have learned from PB to now wait until our return to Maussane to buy the "world's best" (no kidding) olive oil at Mas les Barres. But more on the Mas and oil later.
However, on this trip we had a devilish time avoiding (no such thing) the mosquitos! The cafe waiter in Maussane came to take our order equipped with a can of mosquito repellent which he offered along with the wine - very ingenious but the mosquitos prevailed. We'd never had a mosquito problem before and certainly lived through it but it was a bit of a nuisance nonetheless. Somehow things are less problemmatic in Provence!
Tomorrow we're off to Nyons olive country - I'm amazed not to have read more of Nyons on this website. It is surely located in one of the most beautiful spots on earth and their ripe olives have no match. Plus, you go through such beautiful countryside - Vaison la Romaine, Crestet, Seguret, Beaumes de Venise - on the way! It's usually the longest drive of our trip (only about 2 hours from St. Remy) which is restful for Mother and an opportunity to drink in the beauty before buying up the vacuum-packed olives and tapenade (olives and Les Olivades - seems to be a theme?!) at the Nyons cooperative. Our eyes are never bigger than our stomachs when we buy these olives - they'll continue to give us pleasure for many months to come.
But we have learned from PB to now wait until our return to Maussane to buy the "world's best" (no kidding) olive oil at Mas les Barres. But more on the Mas and oil later.
