After years of enriching my travels with advice gleaned from these forums, I am long overdue to share my own stories with all you fine folks, so here goes- a lovely 10 day sojourn to Paris and France Sud.

Arrived solo in Paris on a evening in late August (S traveling separately and arriving a day later). Is there anything more magical than landing and flâneuring around the streets of Le Marais on a sultry late summer night? Hard to imagine. Checked into the very charming and atmospheric 3* St. Louis Marais hotel just off Rue St. Antoine, steps from Place des Vosges. After the required pilgrimage and selfie by the fountain, I walked around soaking in the neighborhood, noting that I had just missed opening hours at Carnavalet, and then heading to Divvino, the most adorable wine shop and tiny wine bar, where I enjoyed a degustation of lovely fromage cru alongside some very pretty wines, including a dark pink Jura pet nat, a revelation!

The next morning, after a quick cafe au lait on Rue Scully, I got to welcome S to the hotel. A quick refresh and off we went. Paris was misty and drizzling (perhaps more than drizzling), which out a tiny damper on our wanderings but nothing catastrophic. Rain would certainly follow us intermittently throughout our time in France.

Falafel at L'as du 'Fallafel (at this point standing in line in a full torrent) and another snack at Chez Maxine. Both satisfying, although the 15€ cost of the tasty falafel wrap came as a surprise. As would be true everywhere, lovely kind, helpful people and great, simple but enaging conversations. This is my favorite thing about France.

We ducked the showers at Pompidou but I was disappointed to miss the Surrealists I had so enjoyed the year before. Dinner at the fabulously atmospheric Bofinger, a must for first timers, although I can't imagine something locals do very often. We enjoyed their classic chocroute and some Alsatian eau-de-vie, and thoroughly enjoyed eavesdropping on the conversations of our fellow diners and the old school brasserie vibes.

The next morning, a quick cab ride to Gate de Lyon and onward to Avignon, where we picked up our car from the sweet folks at Avis (would anyone describe car rental employees in the US as sweet or charming, or in this case, absolutely gorgeous?).

Our trusty little MG would be our workhorse and companion for the next several days as we hightailed it out of Avignon, forgoing the Palace du Papes and Avignon in general, heading straight to Vaison LA Romaine. This was my first time in the Rhone Valley, and seeing village names that I had only previously seen on wine bottles was a particular thrill.

Vaison was exactly as the postcard promised, and our little apartment was simple and perfectly comfortable, located in Place Monfort and very near the Roman Cité. As a Roman nerd, this proximity alone pleased me to no end.

Trudging up to the Cité Medieval made us grateful we had chosen to stay in the flats, although it was altogether charming and atmospheric to visit. We settled into the local bar in Place Monfort, people watching the locals and chatting with our friendly, spunky young waitress. Several pastis and a very rare steak avec frites later, we called it an early night.

The next day, after a stop at the local wine cooperative and the local fromagerie, boulangerie and pattiserie (only pictures, no purchase) and some education on the local appellations, we made a quick stop in Seguret and marveled at folks who still lived in the tiny medieval apartments along the walk up the hill.

On the way to Gigondas, we started noticing how ready the grapes were for harvest, and on our various stops learned a lot about the harvest plans and everyone's anxiety about the imminent storms.

Lunch in Gigondas at the incredibly charming and elegant L'Oustalet where the food was pretty and the hospitality worthy of it's Michelin recognition. I got a silky braised duck and A enjoyed her truite from the nearby Ardeche (although not au blue, sorry MFK Fisher).

Those aforementioned storm clouds and le Mistral soon unleashed their might and we hurried back to the same simple place on Place Monfort to wait out the rain and then home and Netflix. I can arrest to the fact that watching The Perfect Couple huddled up on a rainy night in a charming village in Provence is more fun than watching the same show anywhere else!

The next day was adventure day! After a large purchase of fromage from what I now deem the best fromagerie ever, Lou Canestou, we headed up Mont Ventoux. S is an avid cyclist and Tour de France fan, so driving up that hardest hill of the race was special. The summit delivered, views, cyclists, lovely little stand selling gorgeous saucisson sec and confiserie (lavande, violette, vervain etc). Many selfies later, we headed down the gentle side of the hill towards Sault. Sadly we had just missed the lavender, but the sleepy town of Sault was sweet and a worthy pastis stop, replete with stories from a French waiter who had recently moved back from LA where he apparently was Sly Stallone's bodyguard? Possibly true.

After a brief stop in an olive grove for future Facebook profile picture gathering, we headed to Chateauneuf du Pape for the Napa Valley portion of the trip. It was certainly the fanciest and highest end village we visited, befitting it's history as the Pope's personal vineyard. Interesting that it was one village that did not have a cooperative, since the wine families prefer not to mingle with the plebians. Really enjoyed the informative wine museum tour and subsequent tasting at Brotte. I perhaps am a person of simple tastes, as the earthy heavy CdPs did not compare to the floral, garrigue flavored wines of neighboring villages. But to each their own.

Dinner that night was at a simple local place around the corner that more than delivered. Tartare, salade, burger. But just vache, no cheval, merci!

The next day was the best day, because it was market day in Vaison. Mon Dieu! Amazing, more than met expectations. Why is tapenade in Provence just so much more delicious than tapenade back home in Berkeley? Lots of lovely conversations, including a long one over coffee with a fellow market-goer from Brussels who spends half her year in a village near Vaison.

That afternoon led us to Nyons and Beaumes-de-Venise. Loved Nyons and the dramatic topography surrounding this town. Loved the olive cooperative and the little recreations of ancient olive pressing practices. Highly recommend a stop here. Beaumes-de-Venise was pretty quiet during siesta hour's, but luckily, the cooperative was open and we got to try the fabled honeyed wines of the region. Happily drove home, sated in heart and belly.

Dinner that night consisted of market spoils, including a perfect Cavaillon melon picked by the farmer to be eaten that day. Was a bit regretful I had not purchased any jambon cry to drape over it.

The next morning, thunder and torrential rain. What to do in a pastoral village? Go on a drive, obviously. S bravely steered the MG into the torrents, and by the time we got to St. Remy for the marché, the rain had stopped. Very packed, very vibrant, and quite different from most other days in St. Remy, as we would discover later. Rains came back so we jumped in the car and at the spur of the moment, decided to drive to Aix-en-Provence for lunch. Rainy Aix us still pretty, and we lunched at the venerable and faded Le Grillon. A gorgeous anchoide was followed by a user error plat (for me) - a large plate of frites with... 2 thin hot dogs? I misunderstood Saucisse Frites. Oh well, my fault. Lunch was followed by a mad dash to shop for an umbrella, and back home.

The next morning, we packed up and headed to St. Remy for our multi-day stay there. I was glad we had visited the day before, so that we didn't have to spend time getting oriented. Our hotel, Villa Glanum, was a little ways from the town center (about a 20 minute walk), which I picked because of it's proximity to Van Gogh's sanatarium and Glanum ruins. After dropping off our bags and being slightly puzzled by the standoffish welcome (a first for us), we headed to lunch in town at Bar Les Alpilles. Absolutely wonderful and picturesque experience, watching well heeled locals and their multi course, multi bottle lunch rituals, as well their many demands on the waitstaff to accommodate their petit chien!

Villa Glanum is a pretty property with a pretty garden and simple but serviceable rooms. The management, on the other hand, is baffling. They are clearly understaffed, and those on duty don't seem to prioritize their guests comfort. Too bad, because their location for fans of Can Gogh or Roman history is unparalleled. This service experience only stands out because it was the exception in France. Everywhere else, people went above and beyond.

The Saint Paul sanatorium is amazing, and a must see, including the room Van Gogh lived in for a year and where he created 189 paintings and 100 drawings. The highlight for me was stepping outside to look at that particular mountaintop and those olive groves, and recognize the exact landscape in The Olive Trees and other paintings I have seen at the MOMA and other places. Mind blown. Also of note are the triumphal arch across the street and mausoleum,, sponsored by Augustus in 2 BC. Magnificent.

Work plans constrained the evening, the hotel seemed to have no facilities (although they were promised), so a quick takeaway pizza and a bottle of rosé concluded the evening.

The next day was Les Baux! The drive there, following the grooves of the Dentelles de Montmereil, was amazing in and of itself, and Les Baux, from the charming tourist village to the castle and medieval hospital, and stunning views,

We had scheduled another night at Villa Glanum in St. Remy. But that night, over a grande aioli dinner at a sweet place in town, we decided life was too short for poor service and made another pivot. Let's go to... Marseilles!

I will note here that I am an obsessive planner (after all, I'm posting here). But I had not researched Marseilles other than hearing that it was Bourdain's favorite city or.some such. The initial drive into Marseilles, with the sweeping views of the harbor, were jaw dropping. And then we proceeded to have all kinds of unexpected adventures for the next 20 hours. First, driving in Marseilles is... not for the inexperienced. But, being a veteran San Francisco driver, S took all the one ways and nutty traffic in stride.

Our hotel, right on the water in Vieux Port, was a perfect find. Charming, intimate, with a a lovely little bar overlooking the port, and staff who decided to upgrade us to the most fabulous room with a view. Having dropped off our bags, and then enduring a rather excruciating hour trying to drop off the car at the train station, we headed out in search of lunch at the Marché Noialle. We didn't quite get there, because we were intercepted by a loud and lovely band playing, and a woman singing, Algerian music. We poked our heads around and were greeted by a view of a long alley, set with tables and chairs down it's entire length, seating perhaps 200 people. Turns out it was an Algerian fète, and we happily sat down with hundreds of other locals and tourists to enjoy an amazing Algerian communal couscous and tagine meal. Only in Marseilles!

After returning to the cool and quiet of our hotel (it was boiling hot and very very jammed), we headed back out after a brief break to Cours Julien for an evening excursion. Walking from Vieux Port to this area took us through labyrinthine streets and alleys filled with halal markets, people from Tunisia, Algerian, Morocco,.Senegal, and Mali. So much more Arabic spoken here then French!

Cours Julien sits atop one of Marseilles' hills, reminding me of Napoli. The views down are amazing, as were the thrummjng, very mixed race crowds filling every table at the many many restaurants in the area.

As we scored the last possible table at a place that got good reviews on Tripadvisor (like I said, I had done no research), le Mistral blew through, leaving upturned menu boards and scattered tableware in it's wake. Short-lived thankfully.

After a nightcap and great conversation at our hotel's perfect little bar, we tucked in for an early morning train back to Paris.

Thoughts about Marseilles: every Francophile must visit! Is it bucolic.and pretty and mannered like many other parts of touristed France? No. Is it a critical element of understanding the layers of France, it's evolving culture and politics and colonial history? Yes. Is it gritty and overwhelming? Yes, but also, wonderful and magical in moments, with experiences probably closer in flavor to North Africa. People have compared Marseilles to Napoli, and I would say, Napoli is far less gritty and more 'italian' tha Marseilles is 'french.' italics because of course it is French, just not the France that perhaps many travelers expect.

Next stop: Paris part deux!

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I am really enjoying your report of Provence. Until a year ago, our oldest daughter and her family lived in Provence for 10 years, so we visited quite frequently. We visited many of the places you mention - St. Remy, Les Baux, Gigondas, Sault (we were fortunate to be there during lavender season), and Marseille! We love Marseille! We never stayed overnight because our daughter lived about an hour away, but we made several day trips. Marseille is so interesting, quirky, and gritty. We especially enjoyed wandering around the Le Panier district with its strange, quirky, and amazing street art.

Do you have any photos you can include?

Looking forward to Paris part deux!

I also appreciate your report. We also were pleasantly surprised by Marseilles. We also stayed at a hotel right on the port, and we also were totally flummoxed when trying to return our rental car at the Marseille train station! But we've had those challenges in many other cities as well.

What a wonderful way to show your gratitude, sarahwallace0699! Thanks for such an upbeat TR. I'm looking forward to the next installment.

What a pleasure to find this terrific TR on Paris and France Sud after much too long a time between any such postings about my favorite city/country. Looking forward to Paris part Deux, sarahwallace0699.

I love every word of your report. You exude such an enticing sense of discovery.

Quote:

Tartare, salade, burger. But just vache, no cheval, merci!

This line tends to imply that you are one of the many English speakers who does not understand the term "hamburger à cheval." This refers to a normal beef hamburger with a fried egg riding "horseback" on top. If a burger were made of horsemeat (even though you will never see this on a menu), it would be a hamburger de cheval.

You are totally correct. I went back and looked at the menu at Chez Fred, the restaurant where we had this meal, and it was indeed à cheval. So we missed the fried egg on account of my illiteracy. Oh well!

Thank you all for following along. Before I go back to Paris, I want to acknowledge the many typos in my report due to hastily typing this all out on my phone and then realizing in arrears that I could not go back and edit.

ALSO, left out a few important tidbits:
1. From Les Baux, we drove by Gordes and Roussillon (did not stop), with our destination being Village des Bories. The road to get there is not for the fainthearted, as anyone who has been knows, but once again, we were struck by the kindness and consideration of fellow drivers. Somehow, everyone made it work on those extremely narrow little streets. The village did not disappoint, what an anachronistic gem, especially considering these structures were inhabited into the 19th century. I was particularly astonished by the "silkworm" house!
2. We also drove through Cavaillon and Sablet, but did not stop. I wish we had more time to properly experience more of Provence (including the Camargue, Arles, Cassis etc), but I have no doubt we will be back.
3. While in Vaison, we had seen signs one evening for a choral concert at the church up on the hill. We did not make it in time before the doors closed, and instead sat outside admiring the view and listening, and occasionally peeping through the keyhole to follow the performance. The performance itself was sort of contemporary American blues-themed, so in a way I'm glad we didn't get seated inside, but these unexpected local experiences are what make world travel magical.

Now, back to Paris.
Our very early train back to Paris was timely as the record temperatures and good weather of the previous day had morphed into thunderstorms, cooler weather and heavy rain. While the Oiugo train was in pretty poor condition (last minute tickets), I enjoyed the journey especially as we passed through Burgundy and allowed our minds to wander into planning our next trip in 2026 which may involve a long drive through Alsace Lorraine to Dijon/Lyon/Beaune etc.

A morning arrival into Gare de Lyon and then a short cab-ride to our hotel, Hotel de Roubaix. Sadly, the St. Loius Marais was booked on our travel days, so I chose a last minute cheap and cheerful option, optimizing for location over luxury. But once again, Paris delivered. Not only was our room prepared for us on early arrival, we got upgraded to a triple (don't know why), but with a lovely balcony overlooking the stunning gothic St. Nicholas des Champs church and our quiet street. A perfect view in Le Marais. It was interesting to see how the weather had turned, and it was suddenly and definitely fall. This was also evident on the streets, with most locals attired in coats and fashionable fall scarves. Being in a different part of the Marais, we decided to do a proper walkabout along the Seine and past Notre Dame. It was a great opportunity to marvel at the juxtaposition of modern construction infrastructure against the old edifice, and understand the stunning amount of detailed restoration work in progress. Lunch at La Brasserie de L'Isle St. Louis - I'm a sucker for old school brasseries in Paris, the old bars and light fixtures, the patina on the walls and on the waiters! A highlight of the meal was the finish - a giant puddingy slab of Muenster served with caraway seeds and a lovely chablis (I know, not a gewurztraminer) to wash it down. More walking in the neighborhood, this time with a focus on shopping/window shopping. I am a perfume lover and collector, and it was truly special to visit some of my favorite niche perfume houses such as Parfums de Nicolai, Histoire des Parfums, Byredo, and Etat Libre d'Orange. This was followed by a long pilgrimage to the Commes des Garcons atelier, where S. purchased some CdG x Converse collab shoes and I got to try on some jaw-dropping, and completely impractical, haute couture. Conspicuous Consumerism aside, by far my favorite stop was at Shakespeare & Co, where we whiled away over an hour browsing and reading and marveling and thinking about the Lost Generation and the women of the Left Bank in the '20's.

The weather forecast had indicated overcast skies but no rain, a promise that held up through our visit to Jardin Luxembourg, filled with locals and too many tourists with selfie sticks. Still, a fun walkabout. As we made it to our next destination, the Hammam de la Mosquee de Paris, a perfect place to spend a gloomy late afternoon, the skies tore open, and we somehow managed to hail a taxi while taking shelter under an awning. For those who have been to this hammam, you know how otherworldly and special it is in the context of Paris. Hard to describe the vibrance and beauty of the buildings and the intricate tile work and murals everywhere, as well as the intimate grandeur of the building itself. I had been to the hammam before (for tea and sweets), but had never tried the bathing experience. And what an experience it was! For 30€, we got to: 1) sit in the larger steam room, lounging in our own colonnaded alcove, 2) venture into the extremely hot second room with the cold "hot" tub for temperature regulation, and then 3) relax with mint tea served by the staff while lounging in yet another cupola'd room alongside other bathers. Magnifique! We are huge fans of hot water and bathhouses (Korean, Russian, Japanese, Californian), but had never tried a hammam before, so this was a nice check on our list, especially given the weather. I regret not wandering through the Jardin des Plantes afterwards, but the rain was not our friend in that instance.

Dinner that evening was at Au Petit Fer a Cheval on Rue Vielle du Temple. We knew that they didn't take reservations and were very popular, and it was risky because it was pouring. Somehow we lucked out and got seated in the tiny space within minutes. The restaurant did not disappoint, and we were regaled with stories about the chef and the history of the restaurant and the staff by our wonderful Senegalese-French waiter. The restaurant proudly claims that 50% of its kitchen staff and 40% of its waitstaff are first-generation immigrants, most of whom have worked there for decades. This struck us, with Marseilles and the dynamics of immigration in France fresh in our consciousness. The food was wonderful, simple and well executed, and to my taste, the best bread we had in France thus far on this trip. After our meal, we got into a long conversation with our tablemates, an American/Polish artist couple, in their 60's and 80's respectively. They spoke about life as anti-capitalist artists in Paris (they have lived in Belleville for 30 years), and the social systems that allowed them to live life on their own terms with supportive healthcare and other benefits.

The next morning, after a rather touristy breakfast on the Place des Vosges, we devoted an inordinate amount of time to finding "wine sleeves" to safely transport back all the Gigondas and other wines we had picked up in Provence. I kept kicking myself for forgetting to bring them from home, next time! With most museums being closed on Monday, and the rainy cold weather, we were at a bit of a loss as to what to do, so we wandered over to the Seine again and the antiquarian bookshops, where after a few lovely chats, we were gifted a weatherbeaten book on the "curiosities of conventional wisdom" published in 1859. The bookseller believed that the best way for me to improve my non-existent grasp of French was to read such a book. We shall see!

The only museum within walking distance open that day was the Louvre, which we had not planned to visit, but decided, why not. It had been a while. As luck would have it, but the time we got there, it was almost closing time, so we spent an hour at the cafe, drinking overpriced Perrier and looking at the Louvre, waiting out the rain. We made the best of it. This was followed by an early dinner, since we had an early wake up and flight out. What better choice than the venerable Chez Denise, just a stone's throw from where we were, and the subject of foodie lore for its communal tables and cuisine a l'ancienne. It was lovely sitting in that old gingham-tablecloth room, communing with the waitstaff, who were clearly lifers, drinking from a bottle of beaujolais that was marked with the amount you drank, and eating deliciously comforting haricot sec de mouton (lamb with white beans), a medieval recipe that I am hoping to recreate in the coming weeks.

A wine-y walk back to the hotel, packing while taking in the sounds of Le Marais from our balcony, and then the next morning, back to the Bay Area.

A bientot, Paris!

Brava, sarahwallace0699!

Excellent report. Très bien!
❤️ La France ❤️

You have a very engaging style, please do continue!

Lavandula

Thank you for your report. It was great to hear about your adventures in such compelling prose.

It is interesting that you found Chateauneuf-du-Pape, the village, to be the fanciest. I fell like Gigondas is that way, with all the wine focused tourism at the heart of a small village. It is good to hear L'Oustelet is worthy of its Michelin star. At Brotte, I think I enjoyed their Cotes du Rhone more than some of their CdP. I discovered instead, at a restaurant (owned by another Domaine), Olivier Hillaire. It is a much more floral and fruity expression that might appeal to you more.

We were in Sault in mid August, perhaps just after you left. We did it to escape the heat, as it was drier and cooler at altitude. The last of the harvest did occur in early August this year. This was a separate trip from the others to western Provence/Southern Rhone -- we are from NorCal with a place in Nice.

I can see why you would view Gigondas as the "fancy" village. It certainly is upscale. But we got to try many wines at the approachable local cooperative, whereas in CdP, there was no cooperative that we could find, and many of the wineries seemed palatial, reminiscent of St. Helena/Napa. I thought the whites at Brotte were more interesting, but the aged red CdPs we got to try (we got the fancy tasting), left me uninspired, much like my experiences with cult Napa cabs or musty aged Ridge zinfandels. When I was in my late 20's in the early 2000's, I was all about the cult cabs, but the older I get, the more I enjoy lighter floral reds, and especially (and controversially), natural wines of any type.

France is our favorite place so I definitely enjoyed traveling along with your lovely report. Any photos to go along with the excellent descriptions?

we were in Gigondas many years ago, in November so it was pretty quiet, and we loved the local coop for learning about the local wines and sampling them. wish more villages had similar set-ups. no pressure to purchase anything, and we also felt freer to chat about what we liked/didn't like about a particular wine than when visiting a vineyard.

I'm enjoying your very evocative report Wonderful writing!

We visited Provence way too many years ago but I remember discovering the Cavaiillon melon and its lovely sweetness!

Marseille has been at the top of the "must see" list for a while -- it was included in one of the cover-canceled trips of yore and it's still a place we're keen to see. I did find it interesting that you say that Marseille is far grittier than Naples, though as NYers, we didn't find Naples all that gritty. But I know that we would like Marseille. And, a question - did I miss it or did you mention the name of the hotel that you found? If not, would you mind sharing it?

There are gritty areas of Marseille and there are areas that are not gritty at all. I'm sure it's the same in Naples. We all wander different paths. I visited Marseille once with two friends. One found it gritty and a bit worrisome and the other not at all. I went with the same two friends to Mexico City, and there was exactly the same reaction. So a lot depends on one's own personality.