The Roads Less Traveled: Traversing France With Mai Tai Tom & Tracy
Nov 29th, 2016, 12:11 PM
#83
Original Poster
Yes, I'm still doing a trip report. Now that cookie duties are over (long story) here is Chapter Six before the Spambots hit. On a gorgeous day, we explored many charming towns in the Luberon, starting in Roussillon (click link below for story with photos).
<B>http://travelswithmaitaitom.com/chapter-six-looping-lovely-luberon/</B>
Day Six – Mr. Belvedere, Wine Sale, Seeing Red, Frankenstein Goes Hiking, Another Sleepy Town, Take My Restaurant Recommendation With A Grain Of Salt, Going Cucu, Do We Need To Buy Them a Gift, Chateau Diversion, Finally A Busy Town, Chasing Camus, Sunset To Remember, Hail Cesar, Trump’s Detective Cousin and An Impromptu Meeting Of The United Nations
Promptly at 9 a.m. we sat down for a quick breakfast of croissants, jam, cheese, ham, bread and coffee (starting to have a familiar ring, eh?) at Les Terrasses du Luberon. Then, donning my “Squirrel Whisperer” t-shirt, we were off to a gorgeous village where we might be afforded the opportunity to take a hike (something Tracy tells me to do daily…guess she thinks I need the exercise).
Only about a half-hour drive from Bonnieux is Roussillon, a town that puts the “Provençal” in Provençal. If you like red, pink and yellow, this is your spot. We had made a quick stop here in 1998 (long enough for Tracy to purchase a rooster picture for our kitchen…because really, who doesn’t have a rooster picture in their kitchen?), so we decided to further explore Roussillon again.
Arriving at 10:15, Roussillon was filling up with tourists, and we barely got the last space in the parking lot (and to that guy who thought he’d sneak in before me…sorry buddy, I’m from L.A.). As we strolled a narrow street, I looked skyward and saw a large tower with a clock and a cross on top. Using my powers of observation, I surmised this must be something religious.
This belfry was renovated in the 19th century as a bell tower to the adjoining church. We climbed another street to the Quartier de la Bistourle (Two Towers). I guess I missed the second one. From here there were lovely views. By the end of the trip, we had visited so many of these structures with sweeping vistas that they started calling me Mr. Belvedere.
Next we made our way to the 17th-century L’église Saint-Michel, which I assume is the adjoining church (sorry, but I probably should have had a second cup of coffee).
We stepped inside and took a few pictures.
Not satisfied with spending half our budget on tablecloths in Beaune, Tracy spied a store opening its doors for the day. Inside were colorful linens. I tried to tackle her, but, alas, my elusive wife escaped my grip and stepped inside. Fortunately, the tablecloth she really liked was the wrong size.
We continued our Roussillon stroll.
Inside a nearby store stood a display of Miraval wine, an estate wine from Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Due to their split, the wine was half price. I told Tracy we should adopt a bottle. We moved on.
Roussillon does have a number of charming buildings…
…meaning Tracy could use her iPhone photo skills while I searched for coffee. She had more success.
Our next stop was a graveyard (as you can tell I’m a sucker for a tomb).
The resting places of these graves had a nice view back toward Roussillon, although its inhabitants don’t get to enjoy it.
Then it was time to check out something above town.
Perhaps the main reason to visit Roussillon is to hike the Sentier des Ocres…
…a hiking trail that meanders through a former ochre quarry with some fairly fantastic views.
When it comes to lots of ochre, not many places have it over Roussillon.
This trail is also called Chaussée des Géants (Giants’ Causeway).
There are markers for the hikes (a short one takes about 35 minutes, while the longer one is still under an hour).
We paid the €2.50 fee, and away we walked. Once again, there were stunning views of the valley and ochre rocks.
Soon, we came upon a staircase to walk down, and my beloved wife decided to wait at the top and take a photo of me descending. There’s always a method to her madness, and when I heard her laughing, I knew that did not bode well for moi. Sure enough, the photo of me walking down looked like Frankenstein (I was a little stiff). I hope I didn’t scare the children.
The pretty trail was lined with various types of trees.
We hiked down for about another 10 – 15 minutes, but I realized this might not be the best day for a hike (my knees were not doing too well). I was now officially old. It really is an easy hike for most people under 100, so you should take it. At least I witnessed some beautiful scenery, but sadly did not see any badgers that we were told we might see along the route (guess I’ll need to go to Wisconsin for that).
I had brought hiking shoes because all reports said you would get the red dust all over your clothes and shoes, and I didn’t want to spread red dust over the rest of France. I don’t know if we didn’t walk long enough, but there was no red dust anywhere on our person. If you pick up a handful of the ochre, it is more sand-like. Or you can just take our word for it.
There was another reason I wanted to cut the hike a little shorter (this is my story and I’m sticking to it)…our plan was to drive to a nearby town for lunch, and the last thing I wanted to do was miss another lunch window.
So over the mountains and through the woods we drove on beautiful, twisting and narrow roads on our away to our appointed lunch destination, Ansouis, one of the Les Plus Beaux Villages de France (which loosely translates to “felony cute town”).
The Ansouis Castle was the home of a couple of key French religious figures, Elzear de Sabran and his wife Dephine. Married as teenagers, it seems their daily life “consisted of flagellation with chains and being tied up to chairs with especially uncomfortable ropes.” They also washed the feet of 12 lepers every morning. Suddenly taking out the garbage did not seem like such a bad marital chore. Unfortunately, the privately-owned castle did not open until later in the afternoon, so Tracy and I would have to wait to get back to the U.S. to tie each other up.
We walked the stairs from the parking lot (knees were feeling better by now) and came upon an open restaurant with a patio. Remembering Ménerbes and our new motto, we kept on going. Ansouis was sleepy at 12:30 p.m., but as we made our way through this pretty little village there were no restaurants in sight.
Once again, we enjoyed the colors of the buildings…
….and other things as we walked through town. To squash those rumors, no, we didn’t take any.
We did come upon the 900-year-old church of St. Martin located near the castle.
The dark interior was livened up by astounding colors that our photos do not do justice. We couldn’t stay long, because we needed to find a restaurant for lunch.
Fortunately, at the top of a hill, Tracy spied a sign for Le Grain de Sel, a restaurant overlooking another valley (Mr. Belvedere strikes again). We scored the last remaining outside table on a fairly warm afternoon.
The vine-covered terrace with a spectacular view of the valley along with the all foreign speaking patrons (I guess technically we were the foreign speaking patrons) and servers made for that “authentic” French experience many travelers yearn to seek out. I was just happy to eat.
Gorgonzola gnocchi with pancetta and a cold beer more than hit the spot, and we had a delightful and relaxing lunch. With its name, you can take this restaurant recommendation with a grain of salt (it was very good).
Back in the car, our next stop was Cucuron, a village situated in the heart of the Luberon Nature Park. Once again, there were no badgers (Badgers, we don’t need no stinkin’ badgers!).
If Ansouis was sleepy, Cucuron, as we entered, was on life support (at least for the moment). It was few blocks before we saw a living soul, but once again the buildings were charming.
We did pass by a feline resident who looked bushed.
As we turned the corner humanity appeared in the form of a bride, groom and wedding party dressed to the nines. Turning another corner we saw a church, which we assumed might be the scene of the upcoming nuptials. We were correct. We scurried down the street into the Église Notre-Dame de Beaulieu.
The inside was quite beautiful, ready for the soon-to-be wedding.
I believe the church dates from the 13th century. I don’t know how long the soon-to-be married couple dated. We might have stayed longer, but the guests started arriving, and we hadn’t brought a gift…
…so it was time to leave Cucuron, although this home’s patio looked quite inviting.
It was a very short drive to our next Provence town, Lourmarin. In 1348 the Black Death nearly decimated this town, but thanks to the powerful D’Agoult family, Lourmarin made a comeback in the 15th century. Through the years, Château Loumarin has passed through many hands. Robert Laurent Vibert, an historian and industrialist, bought the château, saving it from demolition in 1920.
Vibert was killed in a car crash in 1925 (fatal accident foreshadowing…don’t worry, not me), but he donated the château, his art and furniture collections, and his libraries to the French Academy for Art and Science in Aix-en-Provence on the condition that they play host every summer to young writers, painters, sculptors and musicians in the château.
We parked very near the chateau…
…and found the exterior pond to be quite unusual..and colorful.
It was €6.50 to enter, and the self-guided tour was adequate.
It certainly doesn’t measure up to many of the chateaus we have seen in the past, though the room on the right was instrumental to its popularity.
However, if you have 20-30 minutes it’s not a bad diversion.
The views toward Lourmarin and the nearby church were worth the climb.
The best part of the chateau is..oh wait, I’ll tell you shortly. It was time to go to Lourmarin, a town we enjoyed very much, albeit for a short while.
We walked toward the nearby town and planned to visit Saint-André et Saint-Trophime Church. Sadly, this lovely looking church was closed.
Next, we passed the Fontaine aux Trois Masques. The fountain was constructed after the World War II, when sculptor Louis Didron (who also built the fountain at the castle), returned to Lourmarin. If you are at a cocktail party and are asked, “What do the masks represent,” your answer should be, “The Rhone River, the Durance River and Luberon Mountains.”
We walked around Lourmarin for a while…
…and finally we found a town in the area with people.
I would think this wouldn’t be a bad place to lay down stakes for a few days to explore the region.
Sorry, I forgot…the rest of the castle story. Just as we were about to get in the car, Tracy saw a sign for a wine shop at the bottom of the château (Les Caves Du Château). It had a nice selection, a knowledgeable wine guy and two bottles later we were on our way to find one last Lourmarin sight.
The Lourmarin Village Cemetery is where native son and author Albert Camus calls home. Speaking of automobile fatalities, it is a fact that Camus hated driving, and he once stated that “he couldn’t imagine a death more meaningless than dying in a car crash”... so, of course, he died in a car accident on the way from Lourmarin to Paris in 1960. He was 46. An unused train ticket was found in his coat pocket. He had planned to travel by train with his wife and children, but at the last minute accepted his publisher’s proposal to travel with him. His publisher perished, too.
I wanted to find his grave, but after walking around the tiny cemetery for about ten minutes, we gave up.
Plus it was time to get back to our lodging for a non-existent nap.
We did, however, find time to open one of our bottles of wine (I always love it when the photographer figures out how to get in the photo) as we enjoyed our Luberon view.
Once again, we made the death-defying (major exaggeration) walk into town and past a gorgeous building.
Along the way we (aka Tracy)…
…took pretty sunset shots over Bonnieux.
Amazingly, we chose the correct path and were soon at our dinner destination for the evening, Restaurant Cesar at the Hotel Cesar, a spot that affords beautiful views over the Luberon (photo courtesy of seeprovence)…just happened to be the be the view our dining mates had at the table next to us).
cesar-bonnieux-interior-bonnieuxThis dinner also turned out to be memorable…for a few reasons.
First, I started with another new cocktail. Looking at the menu, I saw a drink named “Orange Colombo.” I told Tracy, “I didn’t know Donald Trump had a detective as a relative.” Fortunately for her, there was a nice couple from San Francisco seated next to us with whom she could start up a conversation.
As the evening progressed, only two other parties arrived; a very nice couple from Toulouse and a young couple from Edmonton (they were nice, too), who were also staying at our B&B. Throughout the evening the four couples solved all the world’s problems while enjoying a terrific meal. Discussions ranged from travel to politics to medical care to global climate change.
After a delicious amuse bouche of roasted peppers…
I inhaled…I mean…enjoyed a steak…
…and a wonderful Honey Lavender Shortbread with Strawberries and Strawberry Sorbet for dessert.
And no, there was not a Caesar Salad at Restaurant Cesar. Sorry, I had to take a stab at that one.
Tracy started with Pea Soup and also had the boeuf.
Our new Canadians friends joined us on our short walk home. All of us were well-equipped with torches to light the way, however I did not want to scare our neighbors to the north with another rendition of the Blazing Saddles theme song.
The following day we would travel to a larger city in the morning (after detouring to a very old bridge) and then to a village that is best photographed from the road. We still found time to stop by a famed abbey and a couple of more hill towns. After dipping our toes in the pool, we enjoyed one last delightful dinner in Bonnieux. Oh yeah, my afternoon health scare (have to have at least one per trip) made for a few anxious moments, also.
Next: Day Seven – Pont Diversion, Papes Goes The Palace, A Tour We Could Have Skipped, Stop All These Weddings, Solemn Ceremony, How Art Thou, A Bridge Too Far…and Too Short, Going Out Of My Gordes, Better From The Road, Lavender-less Abbey, Does The Gift Store Have a Defibrillator, Tracy Takes The Wheel, More Deserted Hill Towns and Dinner Is Not For Nil
<B>http://travelswithmaitaitom.com/chapter-six-looping-lovely-luberon/</B>
Day Six – Mr. Belvedere, Wine Sale, Seeing Red, Frankenstein Goes Hiking, Another Sleepy Town, Take My Restaurant Recommendation With A Grain Of Salt, Going Cucu, Do We Need To Buy Them a Gift, Chateau Diversion, Finally A Busy Town, Chasing Camus, Sunset To Remember, Hail Cesar, Trump’s Detective Cousin and An Impromptu Meeting Of The United Nations
Promptly at 9 a.m. we sat down for a quick breakfast of croissants, jam, cheese, ham, bread and coffee (starting to have a familiar ring, eh?) at Les Terrasses du Luberon. Then, donning my “Squirrel Whisperer” t-shirt, we were off to a gorgeous village where we might be afforded the opportunity to take a hike (something Tracy tells me to do daily…guess she thinks I need the exercise).
Only about a half-hour drive from Bonnieux is Roussillon, a town that puts the “Provençal” in Provençal. If you like red, pink and yellow, this is your spot. We had made a quick stop here in 1998 (long enough for Tracy to purchase a rooster picture for our kitchen…because really, who doesn’t have a rooster picture in their kitchen?), so we decided to further explore Roussillon again.
Arriving at 10:15, Roussillon was filling up with tourists, and we barely got the last space in the parking lot (and to that guy who thought he’d sneak in before me…sorry buddy, I’m from L.A.). As we strolled a narrow street, I looked skyward and saw a large tower with a clock and a cross on top. Using my powers of observation, I surmised this must be something religious.
This belfry was renovated in the 19th century as a bell tower to the adjoining church. We climbed another street to the Quartier de la Bistourle (Two Towers). I guess I missed the second one. From here there were lovely views. By the end of the trip, we had visited so many of these structures with sweeping vistas that they started calling me Mr. Belvedere.
Next we made our way to the 17th-century L’église Saint-Michel, which I assume is the adjoining church (sorry, but I probably should have had a second cup of coffee).
We stepped inside and took a few pictures.
Not satisfied with spending half our budget on tablecloths in Beaune, Tracy spied a store opening its doors for the day. Inside were colorful linens. I tried to tackle her, but, alas, my elusive wife escaped my grip and stepped inside. Fortunately, the tablecloth she really liked was the wrong size.
We continued our Roussillon stroll.
Inside a nearby store stood a display of Miraval wine, an estate wine from Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Due to their split, the wine was half price. I told Tracy we should adopt a bottle. We moved on.
Roussillon does have a number of charming buildings…
…meaning Tracy could use her iPhone photo skills while I searched for coffee. She had more success.
Our next stop was a graveyard (as you can tell I’m a sucker for a tomb).
The resting places of these graves had a nice view back toward Roussillon, although its inhabitants don’t get to enjoy it.
Then it was time to check out something above town.
Perhaps the main reason to visit Roussillon is to hike the Sentier des Ocres…
…a hiking trail that meanders through a former ochre quarry with some fairly fantastic views.
When it comes to lots of ochre, not many places have it over Roussillon.
This trail is also called Chaussée des Géants (Giants’ Causeway).
There are markers for the hikes (a short one takes about 35 minutes, while the longer one is still under an hour).
We paid the €2.50 fee, and away we walked. Once again, there were stunning views of the valley and ochre rocks.
Soon, we came upon a staircase to walk down, and my beloved wife decided to wait at the top and take a photo of me descending. There’s always a method to her madness, and when I heard her laughing, I knew that did not bode well for moi. Sure enough, the photo of me walking down looked like Frankenstein (I was a little stiff). I hope I didn’t scare the children.
The pretty trail was lined with various types of trees.
We hiked down for about another 10 – 15 minutes, but I realized this might not be the best day for a hike (my knees were not doing too well). I was now officially old. It really is an easy hike for most people under 100, so you should take it. At least I witnessed some beautiful scenery, but sadly did not see any badgers that we were told we might see along the route (guess I’ll need to go to Wisconsin for that).
I had brought hiking shoes because all reports said you would get the red dust all over your clothes and shoes, and I didn’t want to spread red dust over the rest of France. I don’t know if we didn’t walk long enough, but there was no red dust anywhere on our person. If you pick up a handful of the ochre, it is more sand-like. Or you can just take our word for it.
There was another reason I wanted to cut the hike a little shorter (this is my story and I’m sticking to it)…our plan was to drive to a nearby town for lunch, and the last thing I wanted to do was miss another lunch window.
So over the mountains and through the woods we drove on beautiful, twisting and narrow roads on our away to our appointed lunch destination, Ansouis, one of the Les Plus Beaux Villages de France (which loosely translates to “felony cute town”).
The Ansouis Castle was the home of a couple of key French religious figures, Elzear de Sabran and his wife Dephine. Married as teenagers, it seems their daily life “consisted of flagellation with chains and being tied up to chairs with especially uncomfortable ropes.” They also washed the feet of 12 lepers every morning. Suddenly taking out the garbage did not seem like such a bad marital chore. Unfortunately, the privately-owned castle did not open until later in the afternoon, so Tracy and I would have to wait to get back to the U.S. to tie each other up.
We walked the stairs from the parking lot (knees were feeling better by now) and came upon an open restaurant with a patio. Remembering Ménerbes and our new motto, we kept on going. Ansouis was sleepy at 12:30 p.m., but as we made our way through this pretty little village there were no restaurants in sight.
Once again, we enjoyed the colors of the buildings…
….and other things as we walked through town. To squash those rumors, no, we didn’t take any.
We did come upon the 900-year-old church of St. Martin located near the castle.
The dark interior was livened up by astounding colors that our photos do not do justice. We couldn’t stay long, because we needed to find a restaurant for lunch.
Fortunately, at the top of a hill, Tracy spied a sign for Le Grain de Sel, a restaurant overlooking another valley (Mr. Belvedere strikes again). We scored the last remaining outside table on a fairly warm afternoon.
The vine-covered terrace with a spectacular view of the valley along with the all foreign speaking patrons (I guess technically we were the foreign speaking patrons) and servers made for that “authentic” French experience many travelers yearn to seek out. I was just happy to eat.
Gorgonzola gnocchi with pancetta and a cold beer more than hit the spot, and we had a delightful and relaxing lunch. With its name, you can take this restaurant recommendation with a grain of salt (it was very good).
Back in the car, our next stop was Cucuron, a village situated in the heart of the Luberon Nature Park. Once again, there were no badgers (Badgers, we don’t need no stinkin’ badgers!).
If Ansouis was sleepy, Cucuron, as we entered, was on life support (at least for the moment). It was few blocks before we saw a living soul, but once again the buildings were charming.
We did pass by a feline resident who looked bushed.
As we turned the corner humanity appeared in the form of a bride, groom and wedding party dressed to the nines. Turning another corner we saw a church, which we assumed might be the scene of the upcoming nuptials. We were correct. We scurried down the street into the Église Notre-Dame de Beaulieu.
The inside was quite beautiful, ready for the soon-to-be wedding.
I believe the church dates from the 13th century. I don’t know how long the soon-to-be married couple dated. We might have stayed longer, but the guests started arriving, and we hadn’t brought a gift…
…so it was time to leave Cucuron, although this home’s patio looked quite inviting.
It was a very short drive to our next Provence town, Lourmarin. In 1348 the Black Death nearly decimated this town, but thanks to the powerful D’Agoult family, Lourmarin made a comeback in the 15th century. Through the years, Château Loumarin has passed through many hands. Robert Laurent Vibert, an historian and industrialist, bought the château, saving it from demolition in 1920.
Vibert was killed in a car crash in 1925 (fatal accident foreshadowing…don’t worry, not me), but he donated the château, his art and furniture collections, and his libraries to the French Academy for Art and Science in Aix-en-Provence on the condition that they play host every summer to young writers, painters, sculptors and musicians in the château.
We parked very near the chateau…
…and found the exterior pond to be quite unusual..and colorful.
It was €6.50 to enter, and the self-guided tour was adequate.
It certainly doesn’t measure up to many of the chateaus we have seen in the past, though the room on the right was instrumental to its popularity.
However, if you have 20-30 minutes it’s not a bad diversion.
The views toward Lourmarin and the nearby church were worth the climb.
The best part of the chateau is..oh wait, I’ll tell you shortly. It was time to go to Lourmarin, a town we enjoyed very much, albeit for a short while.
We walked toward the nearby town and planned to visit Saint-André et Saint-Trophime Church. Sadly, this lovely looking church was closed.
Next, we passed the Fontaine aux Trois Masques. The fountain was constructed after the World War II, when sculptor Louis Didron (who also built the fountain at the castle), returned to Lourmarin. If you are at a cocktail party and are asked, “What do the masks represent,” your answer should be, “The Rhone River, the Durance River and Luberon Mountains.”
We walked around Lourmarin for a while…
…and finally we found a town in the area with people.
I would think this wouldn’t be a bad place to lay down stakes for a few days to explore the region.
Sorry, I forgot…the rest of the castle story. Just as we were about to get in the car, Tracy saw a sign for a wine shop at the bottom of the château (Les Caves Du Château). It had a nice selection, a knowledgeable wine guy and two bottles later we were on our way to find one last Lourmarin sight.
The Lourmarin Village Cemetery is where native son and author Albert Camus calls home. Speaking of automobile fatalities, it is a fact that Camus hated driving, and he once stated that “he couldn’t imagine a death more meaningless than dying in a car crash”... so, of course, he died in a car accident on the way from Lourmarin to Paris in 1960. He was 46. An unused train ticket was found in his coat pocket. He had planned to travel by train with his wife and children, but at the last minute accepted his publisher’s proposal to travel with him. His publisher perished, too.
I wanted to find his grave, but after walking around the tiny cemetery for about ten minutes, we gave up.
Plus it was time to get back to our lodging for a non-existent nap.
We did, however, find time to open one of our bottles of wine (I always love it when the photographer figures out how to get in the photo) as we enjoyed our Luberon view.
Once again, we made the death-defying (major exaggeration) walk into town and past a gorgeous building.
Along the way we (aka Tracy)…
…took pretty sunset shots over Bonnieux.
Amazingly, we chose the correct path and were soon at our dinner destination for the evening, Restaurant Cesar at the Hotel Cesar, a spot that affords beautiful views over the Luberon (photo courtesy of seeprovence)…just happened to be the be the view our dining mates had at the table next to us).
cesar-bonnieux-interior-bonnieuxThis dinner also turned out to be memorable…for a few reasons.
First, I started with another new cocktail. Looking at the menu, I saw a drink named “Orange Colombo.” I told Tracy, “I didn’t know Donald Trump had a detective as a relative.” Fortunately for her, there was a nice couple from San Francisco seated next to us with whom she could start up a conversation.
As the evening progressed, only two other parties arrived; a very nice couple from Toulouse and a young couple from Edmonton (they were nice, too), who were also staying at our B&B. Throughout the evening the four couples solved all the world’s problems while enjoying a terrific meal. Discussions ranged from travel to politics to medical care to global climate change.
After a delicious amuse bouche of roasted peppers…
I inhaled…I mean…enjoyed a steak…
…and a wonderful Honey Lavender Shortbread with Strawberries and Strawberry Sorbet for dessert.
And no, there was not a Caesar Salad at Restaurant Cesar. Sorry, I had to take a stab at that one.
Tracy started with Pea Soup and also had the boeuf.
Our new Canadians friends joined us on our short walk home. All of us were well-equipped with torches to light the way, however I did not want to scare our neighbors to the north with another rendition of the Blazing Saddles theme song.
The following day we would travel to a larger city in the morning (after detouring to a very old bridge) and then to a village that is best photographed from the road. We still found time to stop by a famed abbey and a couple of more hill towns. After dipping our toes in the pool, we enjoyed one last delightful dinner in Bonnieux. Oh yeah, my afternoon health scare (have to have at least one per trip) made for a few anxious moments, also.
Next: Day Seven – Pont Diversion, Papes Goes The Palace, A Tour We Could Have Skipped, Stop All These Weddings, Solemn Ceremony, How Art Thou, A Bridge Too Far…and Too Short, Going Out Of My Gordes, Better From The Road, Lavender-less Abbey, Does The Gift Store Have a Defibrillator, Tracy Takes The Wheel, More Deserted Hill Towns and Dinner Is Not For Nil
Nov 29th, 2016, 05:09 PM
#85
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Maitaitom
Hope you finish this before the dreaded format change takes effect. With that hanging over our heads and all the pesky spam, this has been an anxiety fraught few weeks for we loyal (soon to be tested on that) Fodorites who may be about to jump ship.
Carry on! I'm laughing along as usual.
Hope you finish this before the dreaded format change takes effect. With that hanging over our heads and all the pesky spam, this has been an anxiety fraught few weeks for we loyal (soon to be tested on that) Fodorites who may be about to jump ship.
Carry on! I'm laughing along as usual.
Nov 30th, 2016, 02:20 AM
#86
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Loved your recap of places we visited 6 years ago when we stayed 2 weeks in the tiny town of Buoux, very near Bonnieux in the Luberon We also loved Lourmarin and always thought if we went back to stay in the area Lourmarin would be our pick. Had great market there where we purchased a couple of tablecloths. Just as well Tracy did not visit while the market was on.
Nov 30th, 2016, 05:25 AM
#87
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Enjoying your report! Love seeing your photos and descriptions of the small towns in the Luberon that we visited several years ago with our daughter who lives in Provence. Brings back wonderful memories of our trip.
I love your photos, especially the detail and close up shots!
I love your photos, especially the detail and close up shots!
Nov 30th, 2016, 05:33 AM
#88
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"By the end of the trip, we had visited so many places with sweeping vistas. . ." We can identify.
Your great photos say so much more than verbal descriptions. Thanks for introducing us to different villages of Province.
And, ah yes, those table linens!
Your great photos say so much more than verbal descriptions. Thanks for introducing us to different villages of Province.
And, ah yes, those table linens!
Nov 30th, 2016, 08:45 AM
#91
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Enjoying your trip report and photos. We have been going to Provence every other year for the past 15 years and still find things to enjoy and discover. I do hope you had an opportunity to enjoy the many weekly markets in the area as they provide so much of the life and character of the region (and table cloths!).
Cheers.
Cheers.
Nov 30th, 2016, 02:54 PM
#92
Original Poster
"I do hope you had an opportunity to enjoy the many weekly markets in the area.
macanimals, I was cleverly able to bypass the markets for the rest of the trip, as at my advancing age, two tablecloths were about all I was able to lift. I promised next year in Italy she can buy more, plus Kim and Mary are joining us, and they can do the heavy lifting (please don't tell them).
macanimals, I was cleverly able to bypass the markets for the rest of the trip, as at my advancing age, two tablecloths were about all I was able to lift. I promised next year in Italy she can buy more, plus Kim and Mary are joining us, and they can do the heavy lifting (please don't tell them).
Dec 12th, 2016, 11:58 AM
#98
Original Poster
Our last full day in Provence...complete with a minor health scare (one per trip whether I need them or not). As always click link for photos to go along with the story.
<B>http://travelswithmaitaitom.com/chapter-seven-old-bridge-old-popes-old-town-old-man/</B>
Day Seven – Pont Diversion, Papes Goes The Palace, A Tour We Could Have Skipped, Stop All These Weddings, Solemn Ceremony, How Art Thou, A Bridge Too Far…and Too Short, Going Out Of My Gordes, Better From The Road, Lavender-less Abbey, Does The Gift Store Have a Defibrillator, Tracy Takes The Wheel, More Deserted Hill Towns and Dinner Is Not For Nil
Our last day in Provence…On a picture-perfect Sunday morning, we had a quick breakfast because we were going to the big city; well, a bigger city anyway…Avignon. Tracy and I had paid a quick visit to Avignon in 1998, and truthfully the only thing I remembered about it was walking out on a bridge and almost falling off because the damned thing stops in the middle of a river.
We drove past the lovely parish church of Bonnieux…
…and headed into the countryside on our way to Avignon…
…but first we had a detour to make. I had wanted to see Le Pont Julien, a bridge built by the Romans around 3 BC. The “BC” must have meant “Before Cement,” because this bridge was not cemented with any mortar, “so masons had to carefully assemble blocks to perfectly interlock with each other.” Those are the concrete facts.
It was a gorgeous morning, so much so that the only other person there was a professional photographer (I could tell, because his camera couldn’t fit in his pocket like mine).
He said he had visited this spot on many occasions, and this was the best light he had ever seen. Although probably not as good as his, Tracy captured some nice photos on her iPhone.
After about 15 minutes, we were back on the road in search of Avignon, which became the seat of the Papacy for about 70 years in the 14th century, starting when Pope Clement V decided to skedaddle from Rome (too many tourists). In any event, seven popes called Avignon home, and the third one, Benedict XII (even though they were in France they continued with the Roman numerals), is the pope who was responsible for the building of one of the most famous Christian palaces in the world, the Palais des Papes. It’s also one of the largest Gothic structures in the world.
I hope the future popes had an easier time getting through Avignon, because after making a wrong turn, I felt a little lost. My navigator in chief, Tracy, using her vast knowledge and power of observation said (I believe it might have been sarcastically), “I think if you follow that giant wall long enough, we’ll find a place to park,” and soon, of course, we did (parking was €6).
Looming ahead (with a church on its left) as we popped out of the lot…
…there stood a huge edifice that could only be our destination. I asked Tracy if we had visited here in 1998, and she said, “I think so.” I couldn’t remember. After visiting, I could see why.
Before I am accused of blasphemy, I will admit that the history provided by the audio guides (€2 apiece) was fascinating, and it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so we could get our “make-believe” UNESCO card stamped.
After paying our €11 entry fee we entered into a courtyard.
Afterward, we stepped inside the palace. Thanks to those darned revolutionaries back in the late 1700s, the palace was stripped of most anything interesting. It didn’t help that it was further damaged by the Third Republic.
At one time, the frescoes covering many of the walls were some of the finest in the world.
The Grand Tinal Banquet Hall contained an arched ceiling that looked like an upside down boat.
We walked into one room that was mostly ruins. Remembering how much Tracy likes ruins, we quickly exited that room.
I think this guy is Pope Benedict XII (whose egg dish I still love today), but don’t hold me to that.
Some important people from the time of papal rule in Avignon seemed to be plastered in the North Sacristy.
There was also a reproduction of Pope Gregory XI, who eventually moved the court back to Rome in 1377 (I believe he was a big cacio e pepe fan and missed his favorite dish).
Although a little tired on this morning, I decided not to take a seat in the massive fireplace. You never know.
There was a beautiful bas relief of The Passion Of The Christ that was better than the Mel Gibson movie.
There were some once gorgeous frescoes (still beautiful to see) in the Chapelle de saint Martial. These were done by Matteo Giovannetti, but since no photos were allowed (“Martial law”), I “borrowed” these photos from wikipedia.
Before leaving we passed under arches that included religious figures whose heads were lopped off by ticked-off revolutionaries.
Many tourists standing nearby wouldn’t have minded this guy be beheaded.
Back outside, I passed by this musician, took his photo and paid him accordionly…
…and we were back in the square. We took the innumerable steps up to Cathédrale Notre Dame-des-Doms, where the doors were just closing for a wedding. Having been in Kim and Mary’s Catholic wedding, I knew it wouldn’t probably end until Tuesday, so we moved on.
Very near the church and the entrance to Jardin du Rocher-des-Doms, a ceremony was being held that I assumed was to honor World War II dead. That’s because the dates 1939 and 1945 flanked a statue with the words “Anos Morts” above it. Below the statues were wreaths with French flags further to the right.
In a Casablanca moment, La Marseillaise started to play, and Tracy set her iPhone to record this somber, yet at the same time uplifting, moment. At the end, she realized she had pushed the wrong button (good photographer; bad videographer).
Located relatively nearby (back down the steps) was the Musée du Petit Palais (€6). We checked out the ceiling upon entering.
It houses a collection of 13th to 16th century Italian religious paintings.
We didn’t stay too long because…
…our minds were diverted to food. Walking past some historic buildings, there was also some kind of fair going on with music blaring (damn kids today)…
…but, after passing by the theatre, we finally found a spot near Place de L’Horloge (called the “social nerve center” of Avignon) to dine al fresco.
After lunch, we walked back through Avignon…
…and being gluttons for punishment we trudged back up to Cathédrale Notre Dame-des-Doms (the stairs were getting to me), where the nuptials were not finished.
We pressed on even further up to Jardin du Rocher-des-Doms, a small park created in the 19th century. From one vantage point, we looked out over the famed Pont St. Bénezet, which at one point spanned the Rhône. Obviously built by the same people who construct California’s freeways, it was damaged beyond repair in 1660. Since we had already visited it once, we didn’t need to go again.
Walking through the park with a pond and a café, we opted to get out of dodge and head back toward toward a Luberon town we wanted to scope out.
We must have been in a hurry, because I have received two speeding tickets since returning home.
The winding road up to Gordes afforded incredible views to another one of “The Most Beautiful Villages of France.” Tracy stuck her head outside the window as I drove slowly so she could take photos. We found out later there’s an easier way to perform this task.
The first parking lot (€2) was situated about 200 meters from the village, and we began our walk toward Gordes. It was here that I first felt a little weird (weirder than usual), but we pressed on. The war memorial commemorates residents of Gordes who were killed or went missing in World War I, World War II and the war in Algeria (1954-1962).
Reaching the center of Gordes, crowds had descended by 2:30 p.m. looking for its many restaurants and galleries. We passed by the castle…
...and some colorful produce before…
…popping into the very colorful Église Saint Firmin…
…a 12th-century Romanesque church rebuilt in the 18th century.
There were some nice views from Gordes, but by now these views had become somewhat familiar. My favorite recollection from Gordes was the lavender glacé enjoyed on the walk back to the car.
Speaking of winding roads, we took another one on the way down to Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque, which is the famous abbey you see in numerous photos, its colorful lavender adorning the fields in front of it. We turned off the one-way road, just as another car entered going in the wrong direction. We didn’t hear a crash, so hopefully all went well.
f course, being late September, the lavender had no color, but we still walked down from the parking lot to the abbey. I now wasn’t feeling great, but being an idiot I didn’t tell Tracy. The Cisterian abbey was founded in 1148.
We stopped, took some photos, visited the gift shop and then made the walk back up to the car. By now it was time to fess up. Outside of the chest pain, soreness in both arms and my heart racing faster than a sprinter, things were looking up. I said, “Tracy, you might want to drive. I’m not feeling so good. By the way, did they have a defibrillator in the gift shop?”
Tracy was worried what would happen if I had a heart attack now, since we didn’t really know the hospital situation throughout the Luberon. I was fairly certain I was just a little dehydrated (at least that’s what I hoped), which can cause these same symptoms Tracy took the wheel, I drank some water and by the time we were back near Gordes I was feeling somewhat better meaning Tracy would not have to peruse dating websites when she got back home. It was very exciting for Tracy (well not the heart attack thing) because on all of our European trips this was amazingly the first time she had ever driven.
Up ahead we saw something we missed on the way in, a turnout to take photos of Gordes. Some of these pictures look like the hill town was super imposed behind us.
With Tracy still driving (once she gets her hands on the keys, I’m doomed), we drove to a town on the way back to Bonnieux. The twisting, winding road took us to Goult. Although pretty, there was little to do, and the inhabitants of this town must have fled, because we were mostly eerily alone. Where does everyone go?
Back at Terrasses du Luberon, we somehow had time for a little R&R and dipped our toes in the pool (I promised the establishment I wouldn’t take my shirt off so as to not scare the other guests) while sipping some wine. Wine is good for the heart, right?
Soon it was time to head out for one last dinner. Le Fournil is set inside a troglodytic cave and formerly served as the town bakery. It has a 17th-century fountain in front.
Our dinner started with an amuse bouche of chilled spinach soup with crème fraîche. Staying on the soup theme, I ordered a chilled white bean soup with celery and sautéed foie gras. The veal was quite tasty, but, as usual, I felt guilty for eating it.
Tracy also had the soup and sea bass on a bed of risotto.
We enjoyed all three restaurants in Bonnieux, and you can’t go wrong with any of them. Our rankings.
L’Arôme
Restaurant Cesar
Le Fournil
Back at our b&b it was time to pack and get ready for tomorrow’s drive. On our way to Uzés, we’d stop in a town to check out some water wheels, visit a marvel of ancient Rome, check in to our Uzés “castle,” visit a beautiful cathedral and have a terrific dinner under a lovely fig tree. Even a chance encounter with a group of people straight out of “Deliverance” proved interesting.
Next: Day Eight – Brexit Chat, Big Wheels, On Gard, Paging Ned Beatty, Circling Uzés, Always Best To Check Your Emails, Castle Keep, Leaning Tower Of Pisa, Patio Perfect and The “Important American”
<B>http://travelswithmaitaitom.com/chapter-seven-old-bridge-old-popes-old-town-old-man/</B>
Day Seven – Pont Diversion, Papes Goes The Palace, A Tour We Could Have Skipped, Stop All These Weddings, Solemn Ceremony, How Art Thou, A Bridge Too Far…and Too Short, Going Out Of My Gordes, Better From The Road, Lavender-less Abbey, Does The Gift Store Have a Defibrillator, Tracy Takes The Wheel, More Deserted Hill Towns and Dinner Is Not For Nil
Our last day in Provence…On a picture-perfect Sunday morning, we had a quick breakfast because we were going to the big city; well, a bigger city anyway…Avignon. Tracy and I had paid a quick visit to Avignon in 1998, and truthfully the only thing I remembered about it was walking out on a bridge and almost falling off because the damned thing stops in the middle of a river.
We drove past the lovely parish church of Bonnieux…
…and headed into the countryside on our way to Avignon…
…but first we had a detour to make. I had wanted to see Le Pont Julien, a bridge built by the Romans around 3 BC. The “BC” must have meant “Before Cement,” because this bridge was not cemented with any mortar, “so masons had to carefully assemble blocks to perfectly interlock with each other.” Those are the concrete facts.
It was a gorgeous morning, so much so that the only other person there was a professional photographer (I could tell, because his camera couldn’t fit in his pocket like mine).
He said he had visited this spot on many occasions, and this was the best light he had ever seen. Although probably not as good as his, Tracy captured some nice photos on her iPhone.
After about 15 minutes, we were back on the road in search of Avignon, which became the seat of the Papacy for about 70 years in the 14th century, starting when Pope Clement V decided to skedaddle from Rome (too many tourists). In any event, seven popes called Avignon home, and the third one, Benedict XII (even though they were in France they continued with the Roman numerals), is the pope who was responsible for the building of one of the most famous Christian palaces in the world, the Palais des Papes. It’s also one of the largest Gothic structures in the world.
I hope the future popes had an easier time getting through Avignon, because after making a wrong turn, I felt a little lost. My navigator in chief, Tracy, using her vast knowledge and power of observation said (I believe it might have been sarcastically), “I think if you follow that giant wall long enough, we’ll find a place to park,” and soon, of course, we did (parking was €6).
Looming ahead (with a church on its left) as we popped out of the lot…
…there stood a huge edifice that could only be our destination. I asked Tracy if we had visited here in 1998, and she said, “I think so.” I couldn’t remember. After visiting, I could see why.
Before I am accused of blasphemy, I will admit that the history provided by the audio guides (€2 apiece) was fascinating, and it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so we could get our “make-believe” UNESCO card stamped.
After paying our €11 entry fee we entered into a courtyard.
Afterward, we stepped inside the palace. Thanks to those darned revolutionaries back in the late 1700s, the palace was stripped of most anything interesting. It didn’t help that it was further damaged by the Third Republic.
At one time, the frescoes covering many of the walls were some of the finest in the world.
The Grand Tinal Banquet Hall contained an arched ceiling that looked like an upside down boat.
We walked into one room that was mostly ruins. Remembering how much Tracy likes ruins, we quickly exited that room.
I think this guy is Pope Benedict XII (whose egg dish I still love today), but don’t hold me to that.
Some important people from the time of papal rule in Avignon seemed to be plastered in the North Sacristy.
There was also a reproduction of Pope Gregory XI, who eventually moved the court back to Rome in 1377 (I believe he was a big cacio e pepe fan and missed his favorite dish).
Although a little tired on this morning, I decided not to take a seat in the massive fireplace. You never know.
There was a beautiful bas relief of The Passion Of The Christ that was better than the Mel Gibson movie.
There were some once gorgeous frescoes (still beautiful to see) in the Chapelle de saint Martial. These were done by Matteo Giovannetti, but since no photos were allowed (“Martial law”), I “borrowed” these photos from wikipedia.
Before leaving we passed under arches that included religious figures whose heads were lopped off by ticked-off revolutionaries.
Many tourists standing nearby wouldn’t have minded this guy be beheaded.
Back outside, I passed by this musician, took his photo and paid him accordionly…
…and we were back in the square. We took the innumerable steps up to Cathédrale Notre Dame-des-Doms, where the doors were just closing for a wedding. Having been in Kim and Mary’s Catholic wedding, I knew it wouldn’t probably end until Tuesday, so we moved on.
Very near the church and the entrance to Jardin du Rocher-des-Doms, a ceremony was being held that I assumed was to honor World War II dead. That’s because the dates 1939 and 1945 flanked a statue with the words “Anos Morts” above it. Below the statues were wreaths with French flags further to the right.
In a Casablanca moment, La Marseillaise started to play, and Tracy set her iPhone to record this somber, yet at the same time uplifting, moment. At the end, she realized she had pushed the wrong button (good photographer; bad videographer).
Located relatively nearby (back down the steps) was the Musée du Petit Palais (€6). We checked out the ceiling upon entering.
It houses a collection of 13th to 16th century Italian religious paintings.
We didn’t stay too long because…
…our minds were diverted to food. Walking past some historic buildings, there was also some kind of fair going on with music blaring (damn kids today)…
…but, after passing by the theatre, we finally found a spot near Place de L’Horloge (called the “social nerve center” of Avignon) to dine al fresco.
After lunch, we walked back through Avignon…
…and being gluttons for punishment we trudged back up to Cathédrale Notre Dame-des-Doms (the stairs were getting to me), where the nuptials were not finished.
We pressed on even further up to Jardin du Rocher-des-Doms, a small park created in the 19th century. From one vantage point, we looked out over the famed Pont St. Bénezet, which at one point spanned the Rhône. Obviously built by the same people who construct California’s freeways, it was damaged beyond repair in 1660. Since we had already visited it once, we didn’t need to go again.
Walking through the park with a pond and a café, we opted to get out of dodge and head back toward toward a Luberon town we wanted to scope out.
We must have been in a hurry, because I have received two speeding tickets since returning home.
The winding road up to Gordes afforded incredible views to another one of “The Most Beautiful Villages of France.” Tracy stuck her head outside the window as I drove slowly so she could take photos. We found out later there’s an easier way to perform this task.
The first parking lot (€2) was situated about 200 meters from the village, and we began our walk toward Gordes. It was here that I first felt a little weird (weirder than usual), but we pressed on. The war memorial commemorates residents of Gordes who were killed or went missing in World War I, World War II and the war in Algeria (1954-1962).
Reaching the center of Gordes, crowds had descended by 2:30 p.m. looking for its many restaurants and galleries. We passed by the castle…
...and some colorful produce before…
…popping into the very colorful Église Saint Firmin…
…a 12th-century Romanesque church rebuilt in the 18th century.
There were some nice views from Gordes, but by now these views had become somewhat familiar. My favorite recollection from Gordes was the lavender glacé enjoyed on the walk back to the car.
Speaking of winding roads, we took another one on the way down to Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque, which is the famous abbey you see in numerous photos, its colorful lavender adorning the fields in front of it. We turned off the one-way road, just as another car entered going in the wrong direction. We didn’t hear a crash, so hopefully all went well.
f course, being late September, the lavender had no color, but we still walked down from the parking lot to the abbey. I now wasn’t feeling great, but being an idiot I didn’t tell Tracy. The Cisterian abbey was founded in 1148.
We stopped, took some photos, visited the gift shop and then made the walk back up to the car. By now it was time to fess up. Outside of the chest pain, soreness in both arms and my heart racing faster than a sprinter, things were looking up. I said, “Tracy, you might want to drive. I’m not feeling so good. By the way, did they have a defibrillator in the gift shop?”
Tracy was worried what would happen if I had a heart attack now, since we didn’t really know the hospital situation throughout the Luberon. I was fairly certain I was just a little dehydrated (at least that’s what I hoped), which can cause these same symptoms Tracy took the wheel, I drank some water and by the time we were back near Gordes I was feeling somewhat better meaning Tracy would not have to peruse dating websites when she got back home. It was very exciting for Tracy (well not the heart attack thing) because on all of our European trips this was amazingly the first time she had ever driven.
Up ahead we saw something we missed on the way in, a turnout to take photos of Gordes. Some of these pictures look like the hill town was super imposed behind us.
With Tracy still driving (once she gets her hands on the keys, I’m doomed), we drove to a town on the way back to Bonnieux. The twisting, winding road took us to Goult. Although pretty, there was little to do, and the inhabitants of this town must have fled, because we were mostly eerily alone. Where does everyone go?
Back at Terrasses du Luberon, we somehow had time for a little R&R and dipped our toes in the pool (I promised the establishment I wouldn’t take my shirt off so as to not scare the other guests) while sipping some wine. Wine is good for the heart, right?
Soon it was time to head out for one last dinner. Le Fournil is set inside a troglodytic cave and formerly served as the town bakery. It has a 17th-century fountain in front.
Our dinner started with an amuse bouche of chilled spinach soup with crème fraîche. Staying on the soup theme, I ordered a chilled white bean soup with celery and sautéed foie gras. The veal was quite tasty, but, as usual, I felt guilty for eating it.
Tracy also had the soup and sea bass on a bed of risotto.
We enjoyed all three restaurants in Bonnieux, and you can’t go wrong with any of them. Our rankings.
L’Arôme
Restaurant Cesar
Le Fournil
Back at our b&b it was time to pack and get ready for tomorrow’s drive. On our way to Uzés, we’d stop in a town to check out some water wheels, visit a marvel of ancient Rome, check in to our Uzés “castle,” visit a beautiful cathedral and have a terrific dinner under a lovely fig tree. Even a chance encounter with a group of people straight out of “Deliverance” proved interesting.
Next: Day Eight – Brexit Chat, Big Wheels, On Gard, Paging Ned Beatty, Circling Uzés, Always Best To Check Your Emails, Castle Keep, Leaning Tower Of Pisa, Patio Perfect and The “Important American”
Dec 12th, 2016, 12:50 PM
#99
Glad you made it through without having to explore the french hospital system, tom.
on a serious note, there's a good reason why both parties should be able to drive, so that in case of emergency, it's not the first time for the one who doesn't!
on a serious note, there's a good reason why both parties should be able to drive, so that in case of emergency, it's not the first time for the one who doesn't!
Dec 12th, 2016, 02:08 PM
#100
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Enjoyed your "BC" meaning! In fact, enjoyed your whole report.
Great pictorial of our recent days in Avignon! Thanks!
Not so great. . .your health scare. So glad it was resolved and that Tracy could come to the rescue with her excellent driving skills.
In between the holiday activities, we, too, are trying to get our TR completed. Haven't even had time to bake "Nana's Cookies."
Great pictorial of our recent days in Avignon! Thanks!
Not so great. . .your health scare. So glad it was resolved and that Tracy could come to the rescue with her excellent driving skills.
In between the holiday activities, we, too, are trying to get our TR completed. Haven't even had time to bake "Nana's Cookies."
