18/9/12 – Les Musées et un Restaurant 1 Étoile

Tags

1 Michelin Star, 35 Degres Ouest, Depot-Vente, Eglise du Dome, France, Musee d'Orsay, Musee Rodin, Napoleon Bonaparte, Paris, Sainte-Chapelle concert, Van Gogh

Tired from our travels from the previous day, we slept in for a a little bit, which meant that breakfast was on the run. It is one of my favourite things to do in Paris, actually. ‘Un croissant et un café’ from a boulangerie and I’m ready to go. We stopped by at Eric Kayser on rue de l’Ancienne Comedie along the way. I thought the croissant wasn’t bad but hubby said he prefers the ones from Paul’s. The ones from Eric Kayser were a little on the pricey side too.

Thankfully, dad had gotten over his bad experience the day before and we took the RER to Musée d’Orsay without any trouble. The queue for this museum is always very long. This is where the Paris Museum Pass really comes in handy. When we arrived, the museum had just opened and there was a crowd of people waiting to go in. The entrance for holders of the Paris Museum Pass was not very clearly signed but a quick enquiry with a friendly security guard (in French – that’s always the best way to get a good response) had us inside the museum in under 2 minutes.

We made a bee-line for the Niveau médian. Van Gogh’s works are displayed in Salle 71. We got there early ahead of the crowds and it was great to be able to enjoy his works without having to jostle with other tourists. It was great to be able to come full circle in seeing the countryside that inspired his paintings, walk in his footsteps in Arles and St-Rémy and to come face to face with the actual paintings. It was such an interesting perspective in comparison to just viewing the paintings without seeing the history and inspiration behind it. This is a list of his works on display in Salle 71 & 72:-

• L’église d’Auvers-sur-Oise
• Chaumes de Cordeville à Auvers-sur-Oise
• Le docteur Paul Gachet
• Mademoiselle Gachet dans son jardin à Auvers-sur-Oise
• Portrait de l’artiste
• Dans le jardin du docteur Paul Gachet
• La nuit étoilée
• Roses et anémones
• La chambre de Van Gogh à Arles
• Deux fillettes
• Eugène Boch
• L’Italienne
• La méridienne

A painting of Hôpital Saint-Paul in Saint-Rémy (the very same place we visited earlier on in our trip) hangs in Salle 57. By the time we made our way to Niveau supérieur, the crowds had started pouring into the museum and it was very crowded. This museum boasts the best Impressionist collection in Paris, and it is easy to see why. Artwork by artists such as Manet, Monet, Renoir, Degas, Cézanne and Van Gogh line the walls of the museum. Unfortunately, unlike at Musée du Louvre, photography is strictly prohibited.

The museum building itself is impressive. Originally built as a train station at the turn of the 19th century, it was abandoned from 1961 and saved from demolition by Pompidou. Pompidou’s successor decided to establish a museum in the disused train station. The museum was inaugurated by French president François Mitterrand in 1986. Today, it is one of the most visited museums in Paris.

I personally think we didn’t do the museum enough justice as we had to move along to our lunch reservation at 35 Degrées Ouest at 35 rue de Verneuil. I had read both good French and English reviews of this restaurant. We were originally tempted to head back to Guy Savoy but thought we’d try something different instead. I’m so glad we did.

I called the restaurant from Australia to make a reservation about a month before our trip (they were closed in August). The man who answered my call was very friendly and patient with my French. I strongly recommend making a reservation. The restaurant is small and there are limited number of tables. So glad we made a reservation as we were a party of four and when we got there, almost all the tables were filled so we would no doubt have been turned away if we didn’t have a reservation.

Menu was in French but the maître d’ was very helpful in helping to explain a couple of words that I didn’t understand. The emphasis is on seafood and boy was it delicious and fresh!!! Hubby and mum had the langoustine, dad being a meat person ordered the duck, which was well cooked and I had the poached lobster with beurre blanc which was cooked to perfection!! Just remembering the taste of that dish makes my mouth water.

We found the service very friendly, relaxed and professional. The ambience was cozy and less formal compared to some of the other 3 starred restaurants. We really enjoyed our lunch, which lasted for over 3 hours. For the quality of the food, I would consider the price reasonable. But then I am comparing it to the price of dinner at Guy Savoy. Personally, I wouldn’t hesitate to return for another meal. It was a meal that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Hôtel Biron.

When we finally rolled out of the restaurant, we decided we needed to walk to our next destination – Musée Rodin. Unfortunately, the interior of the Hôtel Biron was under renovation, but we got to enjoy the garden and many of Rodin’s famous works which were on display.

Le Penseur.

The garden was serene and seeing the sculptures in such natural surroundings made them seem even more life-like. It was like they had movement and form of their own.

The lake in the garden.

Les Trois Ombres – Also found at the top of La Porte de l’Enfer.

La Porte de l’Enfer.

Les Bourgeois de Calais.

Leaving the Musée Rodin, we headed to Église du Dôme. This church is a a very fine example of French Baroque architecture. It was inspired by the dome of the St. Peters Basilica in Rome. The gilded dome can be seen from many vantage points in Paris. During the regilding process in 1989, the total weight of thin gold leaves used equaled around 10 kilos of pure gold. The building was certainly an impressive sight in the afternoon sun.

Église du Dôme.

The interior of the church is beautiful. The high ceilings boast frescoes representing Saint Louis and Christ. Today the church is used mainly as a military mausoleum, housing the remains of France’s great military leaders such as Foch, Turenne, and the most famous of all – Napoléon Bonaparte.

The beautiful frescoes.

The royal chapel.

An overhead view of Napoleon Bonaparte’s tomb.

Napoleon’s tomb surrounded by several white marble statues.

After his defeat at the Battle of Waterloo, Napoléon spent the last six years of his life in confinement by the British on the island of Saint Helena. Under the rule of King Louis-Philippe, Napoléon’s remains were brought back to France after seven years of negotiation with the British Government. His remains were placed here at Église du Dôme in 1861. While he is no doubt regarded as one of the greatest military commanders of all time, his thirst for war and conquest cost many French lives. His words are etched above the doorway that leads to his tomb – ‘Je désire que mes cendres reposent sur les bords de la Seine, au milieu de ce peuple français que j’ai tant aimé.’ But one cannot help but wonder – was Napoléon Bonaparte a revolutionary or a dictator?

With some time left to kill, mum decided she wanted to visit some dépôt-ventes stores. We headed down to Chercheminippes on rue du Cherche-Midi. Sadly, I didn’t find their stock to be that great. Our next stop was Fan Fan on rue Mayet. It was a small store with some goodies. There were some good quality Chanel and Vuitton. However, nothing caught mum’s fancy.

I had booked mum and dad tickets for a concert at Sainte-Chapelle so we headed down to Île de la Cité. Hubby and I wandered off to get some dinner on our own. By the time we went to pick them up after the concert, it was rather late and we decided to turn in for the night.

Les Misérables

Tags

French, Les Miserables, Victor Hugo

I am eagerly awaiting the release of Les Misérables on Boxing Day. It is my favourite musical of all time. I think Victor Hugo captured the struggle of the human soul and spirit so well in his story of Jean Valjean’s life. I love all the characters in the story and I love, love, love all the songs in the musical. My favourite singers are Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Philip Quast as Javert, Lea Salonga as Éponine and Michael Ball as Marius. I think Colm Wilkinson who played the original lead character embodies Jean Valjean and our very own Australian Philip Quast breathes and lives Javert. Colm’s rendition of Bring Him Home never fails to move me and bring me to tears with its raw honesty. And I am so glad his legacy as the original Jean Valjean is honoured in the movie with him playing the role of the bishop.

I highly recommend the 10th Year Anniversary Edition of Les Misérables on DVD. It is the most amazing performance at the Royal Albert Hall. I also own the 25th Year Anniversary version but I think it lacks the heart and soul of Les Mis, which the 10th Year Anniversary version does so well. Here are some of my favourites. IMO, these versions are perfection.

I have high hopes for Hugh Jackman and his crew. I really hope the movie will not turn out to be like the disappointing disaster that was the Phantom of the Opera.

17/9/12 – Au Revoir Provence et Bonjour Paris

Tags

6eme, Avignon, Berthillon, France, Gare de Lyon, Georges Larnicol, L'Atlas, Le Clos de l'Acacia, Maussane-les-Alpilles, Nicolas, Paris, RER, rue de Buci, rue Saint Andre des Arts, Saint-Germain des Pres, TGV, train travel in France, travel tips

We headed down to breakfast this morning with heavy hearts. It was our last morning in beautiful Provence. Breakfast was as delicious as usual, and the company was the best anyone could ask for. Serge got to talking to hubby and me about Paris. We told him that was the next leg of our trip. Turns out he used to work in the big city. I also got the sense that we were moving on to the next level of ‘connaissance’. He asked us about our lives back in Australia, our jobs… He offered some personal information, telling us about his daughter. He also got us to sign the ‘livre d’or’, which we did in both English and French.

Hubby, Serge and me.

Serge gave us some tips for Paris. He recommended a day trip to Giverny to visit Monet’s gardens. It is something I really want to do, but sadly didn’t find the time to this time round. Before we left, Serge had a little heart to heart talk with me. He said to me, ‘Vous avez une belle famille. Votre parents sont gentils et votre mari et super. Vous avez de la chance. Je suis contente pour vous.’ I thought that was a lovely thing to say. He invited us to come back to Provence and to Le Clos de l’Acacia, ‘and this time, you have to join us for dinner one night’, he said. It was really heartwarming to hear him say that to us.

Monique, us and the other guests at the breakfast table.

All too soon, it was time to head off. We had planned to visit Avignon in the morning before heading to the TGV station, but because we dawdled at breakfast, it was late morning before we started loading our bags into the car. Serge saw us heading to the car with our bags and commented on our Vuitton hand luggages, saying he liked our taste in bags. He then followed that with a warning not to buy the imitation bags from the vendors on the streets as they were of inferior quality. We told him we didn’t believe in purchasing cheap knock-offs and he seemed pleased with the answer. Gotta love the French… I never thought that one day, I would be standing in the garden of a little B&B, in the middle of Provence, discussing Louis Vuitton bags with an older French gentleman. It is that almost innate sense of pride and respect for quality, regardless of whether it’s for produce, food, luxury bags, wine… that is what I love so much about the French.

The beautiful tranquil grounds of Le Clos de l’Acacia.

We left ourselves no time to visit Avignon, so we decided to head straight to the TGV station. That left us with ample time to return our hired car and lots of time for a leisurely lunch. The Avignon TGV station is very modern. It has high ceilings with clear skylights which let the sunshine through. I thought it was a very nice train station.

Avignon TGV station.

We found our platform easily but getting on the train was a bit more tricky. Avignon was not the first stop for the train, so we had to make our way through a carriage that was already rather full, find room for our bags in the luggage area that was also rather full, and then chase away the French guy who had taken over our seats. He grumbled a little in French about how it didn’t matter as we could take other seats instead, but we were adamant as I didn’t want to leave mum and dad on their own. He moved on after a few of the other passengers told him to move on to his designated seat. An older lady even leaned over to my parents and spoke to them in English, telling them that they should not have to worry about giving up their seat as the seats were numbered and that he should be seated in his own seat, not ours. Our train ride this time round was not as pleasant as the previous trip. We were seated in Economy as I couldn’t justify paying almost double for first class tickets (somehow I couldn’t find cheap PREMS for this leg of the trip). So we were very glad when we finally arrived at Gare de Lyon.

Mum and dad struggled with their bags when we caught the RER from CDG to Gare de Lyon, and that was with minimal interchanges. So I was a little worried about how we would get to our apartment. We arrived right smack in the middle of peak hour traffic, and the RER from Gare de Lyon to the apartment would involve interchanging at Châtelet Les Halles. While I would not hesitate to do this with just hubby and me, I worried that with their suitcases, mum and dad would struggle and I didn’t want us to be easy targets for pick-pockets. I put forth the options for getting to our apartment and dad decided that we should take a taxi. To be honest, I was a little relieved as I was worried about keeping an eye on where we were going and my parents at the same time. (Now my parents are by no means ignorant, but being in their sixties, and being the ‘tour-group’ kinda travellers pretty much their entire lives, they are not exactly the most savvy travellers neither.) We walked out to the taxi stand and realized to our horror the queue was unbelievably long. With our choices taken away from us, we had no choice but to brave the RER.

So, with another reiteration of safety tips on the RER to my parents, we headed down to Niveau -2. Hubby and I had to reload our Navigo Découverte cards and I had to get a carnet of tickets for my parents. Unfortunately, the self-serve machines would only take French credit cards with chips, or coins. We did not have over 50 euro in coins with us so I had to queue up at the service desk. The queue was long and it seemed like every person had some ridiculously complicated or long enquiry at the measly two counters that were open. Sadly, this is where the French frustrate the hell out of me. It makes no sense to me to have self-serve ticket machines that would only work for locals or for tourists who are lugging around massive coin purses with lots of coins, and only two counters open for both sales and enquiries at the same time, in one of the busiest train stations in Europe. It took me close to half an hour to recharge our passes and purchase the carnet of tickets.

Finally we got on the RER A. The interchange at Châtelet Les Halles wasn’t as bad as I thought but I noticed there were people getting off and getting on the same RER with us. Hubby and I always make it a point to observe other passengers and people around us as an added safety precaution. But as it was peak hour, it was impossible to tell if there was anyone suspicious. Unfortunately, throughout the whole trip, my dad was doing all the things a tourist should not be doing – he kept pointing to signs, asking me which was our next stop, basically looking lost, and he might as well have had an arrow pointing towards him saying ‘easy target’. When we got to our stop at Saint-Michel-Notre-Dame, mum got out, followed by dad, who suddenly had his way blocked by a guy. The guy was on the ground, grabbing dad’s leg, checking his shoes and blocking his exit. Hubby and I got worried, thinking this was a ploy to separate my parents and us. Dad was just standing there stunned. I yelled at my dad to just kick him and keep moving. We all got out of the train just in time before the doors closed. As the doors were closing, we saw the same guy, holding up what looked like a metro ticket. Something about the whole encounter didn’t sit right with me so I hurried everyone through the station and out on to the streets as quickly as I could. Then I asked everyone to check their pockets and bags. I believed that we had just been targeted. Dad felt into his pocket and turned rather pale. As I suspected, dad had been a target for pickpockets. Thankfully for him, he didn’t have any money in his pocket. All he had was a slip of paper with the address of the apartment where we were staying. Turns out he had given his wallet to mum while they were waiting for me to purchase the tickets at Gare de Lyon. (Seriously, not the smartest thing to be doing either.) Looking back on the incident, hubby and I realized that the guy had been working with another partner. The guy who pretended to be looking for his ticket around dad’s feet was the diversion, while his partner in crime slipped his hands into dad’s pockets. Dad swears he didn’t feel a thing. Hubby said he noticed the two men had been following us since Gare de Lyon, but being peak hour, so were lots of other people.

Dad was visibly shaken by the whole incident. He was worried that now the thieves knew where we were staying. I had to reassure him that these were thieves who prowled the metro and RER, and other touristy places. They were unlikely to come calling on us at the apartment. The apartment also had security alarm codes and keys. Still, I hurried to get us to the apartment. The iPAD navigation worked well again, but we struggled to find the apartment. With the instructions from our apartment rental agency, we were told the apartment number was clearly signed. Yes, it was clearly signed but it was so far up from eye level that you couldn’t see it unless you were standing on the opposite side of the street.

We were very glad when we finally made it into the apartment. Our base for the rest of our week in Paris was 65 rue Saint-André des Arts. The apartment was modern and had all the amenities we wanted, but the best part of it was the location. It was right in the heart of St. Germain. The loft bedrom was a bit of a pain, as the ceiling was low and hubby and I had to stoop to get into bed, but otherwise, we had no complaints.

Our rental apartment in Paris.

Dad was still feeling dejected and shaken from his ordeal, so we decided to explore the area around our apartment instead of heading out to Champ de Mars for a picnic dinner like I had originally planned. I didn’t think dad could brave the Paris métro again for the day. We wandered along rue de Buci and rue Saint-André des Arts. The streets were lively and the cafés and restaurants were packed with people enjoying their evening drinks. Chairs and tables lined the sidewalk as patrons participated in the favourite parisian past-time of people-watching.

We decided to find a restaurant for dinner as we thought dad needed a bit of cheering up. L’Atlas at 11 rue de Buci (there are two restaurants called L’Atlas in the St. Germain area), caught mum’s eye as they were shucking the oysters right in front of the restaurant. Hubby was quick to agree so we asked for a table. We were quickly shown to our table upstairs (downstairs was full). I ordered moules à la crème, mum and hubby ordered the Plateau d’Atlas to share and dad ordered a pork knuckle dish, and we had a pichet of Sancerre Blanc. Mum and hubby’s plateau to share consisted of sea urchin, oysters, bulots, langoustine and crab. Sadly they had run out of crevettes, but they made up for it by giving us more langoustine, oysters and bulots. My mussels cames in a massive pot and was really tasty and cooked just right. Dad loved his massive piece of pork. The Sancerre was pleasant. The only negative was the terrible bread (really chewy and stale – quite unforgivable actually considering you are in Paris).

This is a brasserie so don’t come here expecting service and ambiance like in a fancy restaurant. Service was brisk, but not unfriendly. We were given the option of having the menu in English or French. Don’t expect French waiters to stand around and chat or ask you how your meal went. When we were there, there was one waiter looking after 7 full tables (one table had about 7 people in their party). The bill was a little on the pricey side, but the freshness of the seafood made up for it.

After dinner, we decided to explore further down rue de Buci and we came across a Berthillon outlet. Hubby and I were so happy! A couple of ‘boules’ each of Berthillon later, we were heading down Boulevard Saint-Germain. We found an amazing MOF chocolatier, Georges Larnicol, around the corner from rue de l’Ancienne Comedie. The store was filled with beautiful chocolate creations. His individual chocolates are sold by weight so you can choose a bag of your own selection of different chocolates. Of course we had to try some. Now I am not much of a chocolate person, but the flavours were to die for, and the chocolate was so smooth and creamy, without being too rich. We also found a Nicolas wine store on rue de l’Ancienne Comedie, where we picked up a bottle each of Puligny-Montrachet and Jacquart champagne that were on special. I don’t think I will ever get over how cheap wine and champagne are in France compared to Australia.

We were sleepy by the time we walked back to the apartment. The streets were still alive and buzzing with activity. We were grateful for the massive glazed windows at the apartment which shut out all the street noises.

16/9/12 – Mouriès, Gordes & Roussillon

Tags

Fete des Olives Vertes, France, Gordes, Le Sentiers des Ocres, Mouries, ochre trail, Provence, Roussillon

Finally, it was a day of clear blue skies without the howling Mistral winds. Our breakfast today was a leisurely one. We had plans for the day to visit L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, Fontaine de Vaucluse and Roussillon. We weren’t particularly in a hurry as a knew we had the whole day. Our host Serge asked us about our plans for the day and when we told him what we had planned, he gave us his input. His opinion was that L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue and Fontaine de Vaucluse may be too touristy for us. We had told him in earlier conversations that our favourite thing about travelling in France was experiencing the local way of life and the local culture and flavour. He suggested that we might like to check out the Fête des Olives Vertes in the neighbouring town of Mouriès. He thought mum and dad would enjoy seeing the different cultures and tradition of Provence. A few of the other guests at the table chimed in with their opinions. Many of them had been travelling to Provence for holidays annually for many years now. One guest even pulled out his Michelin map to show us a scenic spot in Gordes that he thought we should visit. We didn’t need much convincing to change our plans for the day so we headed out to Mouriès after breakfast.

We found a place to park the car just outside the village centre. The village main street was closed off to traffic for the big event. There was an air of excitement in the air and we saw local townsfolk, dressed up in their finest traditional provencal outfits heading towards the town centre. Even the children were dressed up in costume.

The Fête des Olives Vertes is a festival held to celebrate the harvest of the bright green early olives. The town of Mouriès is rooted in olive oil production and it is France’s premier olive oil producing municipality, with over 80,000 olive trees. So it is no wonder that this festival is a very important event on the town’s calendar. Today the festival has extended well beyond the town’s borders and comprises of a gathering of groups from surrounding towns. It is a celebration of culture and tradition of the different regions and villages in Provence. The grand parade through the town consists of people from different regions, dressed in their traditional outfits, showcasing their local specialty or produce.

We got there just before the parade was about to begin. The sidewalks on the main street was packed with people. The cafés were doing a roaring business with their tables filled with patrons having a coffee or a drink while securing a good viewing spot to watch the parade. We managed to secure good standing spots. There was a great buzz of excitement in the air. There was animated conversation at every table. Copious amount of pastis was served.

Then the band started playing and the parade began. The parade was colourful and lively. There were marching bands, dancers, olive pickers, horses and cowboys from the Camargue, locals dressed in their traditional outfits, cattle, horse-drawn carriages, and then there were everyday figures like a baker pushing a bread cart, children walking down the street with their mothers, all dressed in traditional costumes.

The entire festival actually runs for the entire weekend, with various activities schedule throughout the day. After the parade, there was more festivities to come, but having now spent our entire morning here in Mouriès, we had to get moving to get to our next destination, Gordes. Passing through the village of Saint-Rémy, we stopped by to fill up on gas. Being a Sunday afternoon, you can imagine our concern when the auto-pay machine rejected one credit card after another. Like all other machines in France, it would only accept a card with a chip. Well that meant we couldn’t use the AMEX. Between hubby and I, we had 4 other cards with chips but we tried one after another with no success. We were down to our final card when finally, it went through. There was a huge sigh of relief when we realized we could continue on our journey for the day. But we will be sure to remember to top up our gas on a weekday when we can still pay by cash in the future. We also stopped by the local supermarket to grab some bread and cheese for a ‘lunch on the run’.

We drove on to Gordes. Gordes is a village perché with narrow cobble-stone streets. It is perched on the southern edge of the high Plateau Vaucluse. Classed as one of the ‘Plus Beaux Villages de France’, it is swarming with tourists in the summer months. Luckily for us, the summer crowds were gone, although there were still bus-loads of tourists being dropped off in the town centre.

Village perché Gordes.

The narrow streets of Gordes.

The streets in Gordes were narrow but the view from the village of the surrounding countryside was magnificent. We stopped for some ice-cream at a lovely ice-creamery called So Glace. The guy was mixing up the mixture for a new batch of ice-cream by hand when we walked into the store. He was very apologetic about making us wait. The flavours of the ice-cream were amazing. It tasted so natural and full of flavour. We sat on the steps outside the shop, enjoying our ice-cream and people-watching.

View from the look-out point.

Our next stop was Rousillon, another village classed as ‘Plus Beaux Villages de France’. Roussillon has the most significant ochre deposits in the world. Ochre is in the sandy soil which makes up the cliffs around Roussillon. Iron oxides colour the sands with different shades varying from yellow to purple with all the shades of red and pink in between. There are at least 17 different shades of ochre.

Village of Roussillon.

The Conservatoire des Ocres et des Pigments Appliques, situated just outside the village has information for the visitor about how ochre is treated and used. The brilliant hues of red colour the buildings and houses in Roussillon, making it a vibrant sight, especially in the afternoon sun.

Houses of Roussillon.

Houses of Roussillon.

Brilliant ochre-coloured buildings in the afternoon sun.

We wandered down the streets of Roussillon. It is a small village with a nice, relaxed feel to it. There were a few art galleries. One in particular, caught our attention. The works on display at Galerie Porte Heureuse were captivating in colour and motion but unfortunately priced way beyond our limit. So we purchased a few prints to take home with us.

Wandering down the streets of Roussillon.

There is a French term ‘flâner’ which translates to English as ‘to stroll’. But it is so much more than just to stroll. It means more than just taking in the sights. It means inhaling the ‘life’ of the place, absorbing the feel of the place into your skin, it means experiencing a place with every sensory fibre in your body. This is what we did in Roussillon – ‘nous avons flâné dans les rues du village’. It epitomized everything I love about visiting these little villages in France.

We stopped at a little café to have a drink. I was keen to try a pastis to complete my experience in Provence. (I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it as it has an aniseed flavour and I’m not a fan of aniseed but I still wanted to give it a go.) Pastis is usually drunk mixed with water. After all, it contains 40-45% alcohol. The waiter found my order a little amusing, I think. Well it was no big surprise that I didn’t finish my pastis. I am and will remain a vodka kinda girl, although the pastis had this sweet after-taste which I did not expect.

The ochre quarry of Roussillon.

After that we headed over to the ochre quarries. ‘Le Sentiers des Ocres’ is the walking trail through the quarries. There are two trails to choose from – 30 or 60 minutes. It was fairly late in the evening so we chose the shorter trail. The trail took us through the ochre quarries where we came face to face with the ochre cliffs in different hues of red and orange. The colour was a startling contrast against the lush green vegetation. While the trail is not difficult, good walking shoes are a must. Also, be prepared to have your shoes stained a rust-brown red from the ochre coloured soil. We came across some kids playing on the ground and they were covered in red dust, much to their mum’s annoyance. It was a lovely walk which we really enjoyed though. The striking colours of the earth around us were made even more brilliant in the light of the setting sun.

Le Sentiers des Ocres.

Mum and dad conquering the ochre trail.

Hubby and me.

Different hues of ochre in the evening sun.

We decided to have dinner at Roussillon. We found a pizza place, which gave us a sweeping view of the countryside. It was lovely sitting out there, watching the sun set, against the beautiful backdrop of Provence. The food left much to be desired, but the views made up for it. It was dark by the time we started heading back to Maussane but the iPad navigation did not fail us and we got back safely.

15/9/12 – Arles & St-Rémy-de-Provence

Tags

Arles, France, Glanum, Le Bistrot des Alpilles, Provence, Saint-Paul de Mausole, St-Remy-de-Provence, Van Gogh

The Mistral was still howling at full force when we headed down to breakfast. It was yet another wonderful spread, made even better by good company and lively conversation. Dad was definitely developing a love for ‘le petit-déjeuner français’ and for French butter

Today our day would be almost solely dedicated to tracing the footsteps of Vincent Van Gogh. A well-known post-impressionist Dutch painter, Van Gogh spent his final years in Provence, where the bright light and vibrant colours of the countryside influenced him to paint in the style for which the world now knows to be distinctively Van Gogh. Plagued by mental illness, this tortured artist produced some of his most well-known works in the last 2 years of his life, while he was staying in Arles and St-Rémy-de-Provence. He died at age 37 from a gunshot wound, which is widely believed to self-inflicted.

We arrived in Arles in time to visit the weekly Saturday market. The market runs from Boulevard des Lices through to Boulevard Georges Clémenceau. It is one of the best markets in Provence. With over 450 stalls running over 2.5km in length, you can find everything from fruits and vegetables, to cheeses, to flour and spices, to meats and fish, to honey, to regional produce like olive oil, rice from Camargue, saucisson from Arles, to clothing, shoes, household goods… everything imaginable really.

Spending the morning in Arles.

The atmosphere was truly that of a ‘marché provençale’. The hustle and bustle of the market with the smell of food and spices in the air. There was so much to see, and so much more we wanted to buy.

Paella at the market.

We walked to the end of the market, until we reached the banks of the Rhône river. The Mistral was still blowing at full-force and we braved the strong winds to walk a short length of the river that inspired Van Gogh’s famous ‘Nuit Étoilée sur le Rhône’.

On the banks of the Rhône river.

Walking along the Rhône river.

There is often confusion over ‘Nuit Étoilée sur le Rhône’ and ‘La Nuit Étoilée’. In fact, the two paintings could not be any more different. ”Nuit Étoilée sur le Rhône’ was painted when Van Gogh was in Arles, before his mental breakdown. The painting reflects the calmness of the river and his mental state at that time. This painting now resides at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris. (We would see this painting later on in our trip.)

Nuit Étoilée sur le Rhône.

The more famous ‘La Nuit Étoilée’, which now resides in the Museum of Modern Art in New York, was painted when Van Gogh was a patient at the asylum Saint-Paul de Mausole in St-Rémy-de-Provence. This famous masterpiece reflects the mental anguish and turmoil of a tortured soul, which is in stark contrast to the other ‘Starry Night’.

La Nuit Étoilée.

Leaving the river, we headed back towards the town centre. Along the way, we stopped by at the Place du Forum. The café on the northeastern corner of the square is the inspiration for Van Gogh’s ‘Terrasse du Café le Soir’.

Terrasse du Café le Soir

Café Van Gogh at Place du Forum.

Our next stop was the Place de la République. The Église St-Trophime is a fine example of a Romanesque church. The church was built between the 12th and 15th century upon the site of the 5th century basilica of Arles.

Inside Église St-Trophime.

Luckily for us, this was the weekend of ‘Les Journées du Patrimoine’. ‘Les Journées du Patrimoine’ was first introduced by the Minister for Culture in 1984. Throughout the weekend, all visitors, local and foreign, are offered free entry to heritage sites – from public buildings like museums and national monuments to private properties. It’s a great way to save on entry fees and a great time to visit well-known sites.

Théâtre Antique d’Arles.

Our next stop was the Théâtre Antique. This paled in comparison to the one we saw at Orange the day before, so we didn’t spend much time here. We moved on to Les Arènes. Les Arènes is a two-tiered roman amphitheatre, capable of seating over 20,000 spectators. It was built around 90 AD to host entertainment events such as chariot racing and bloody gladiator fights.

Les Arènes.

Today, this amphitheatre in Arles and its more impressive counterpart in Nîmes still continue their bloody entertainment tradition with the staging of Spanish-style corridas or bullfighting, which culminates with the killing of the bull. Standing at the top of the amphitheatre, I have to say that it is very easy to imagine the bloodlust and cheering of the crowd, the adrenaline mixed in with fear of the fighters, and the deadly dance of death which is probably gruesome, yet strangely hypnotic at the same time. However, it is not my cup of tea.

Inside Les Arènes.

Leaving Les Arènes, we headed back towards the market. By the time we got there, the market was winding down. Stalls were being packed up, and goods were being loaded back into vans. We quickly grabbed some food for lunch. Everything was priced cheap to clear. So our lunch ended up being a mishmash of roast chicken and potatoes, fried dimsims (yes, we managed to find a Chinese takeaway joint in the middle of the market, right in the heart of Provence… LOL), and some samosas. We lucked out on the paella as it was sold out by the time we got there. Sitting underneath the shade of a tree beside Boulevard des Lices, we had our lunch.

Mausoleum of the Julii.

The Triumphal Arc.

After lunch, we decided it was time to move on to St-Rémy-de-Provence. Our first stop was Glanum. It boasts two well-preserved Roman monuments from 1st century BC – a tower shaped mausoleum and the oldest triumphal arc in France, collectively known as ‘Les Antiques’. At the foot of the Alpilles, Glanum was first settled by the native Salyens in 6th century BC. It was an oppidum, or fortified town built around a sacred spring that was reputed to have healing power. In 2nd century BC, it became a Roman city. With the fall of the Roman empire, the city was subsequently overrun and destroyed, never to be rebuilt. Excavations around the monuments began as early as the 16th and 17th century but systematic excavation only began in 1921.

The remains of the Roman town of Glanum.

Restored columns of twin Corinthian temple in the first Roman Forum.

Next to Glanum is the Saint-Paul de Mausole, a still functioning psychiatric facility, where Van Gogh was voluntarily confined after his mental episode in Arles, which saw him argue with his housemate Paul Gaugin, cut off part of his ear and giving it to a prostitute. He arrived at the asylum on May 8, 1889, where he came under the care of the director of the institution, Dr Théophile Peyron.

Saint-Paul de Mausole.

Tracing the footsteps of Van Gogh.

This period of Van Gogh’s life was to be his most productive. He painted 143 oil paintings and more than 100 drawings in a little over a year. Many of his masterpieces were produced here, including The Starry Night, Cypresses, Pietà, Self-Portrait, Irises, Noon: Rest from Work… His brother Theo arranged for him to have two rooms, one to be used as his studio. Still, not all his time spent here was peaceful and happy. He had bouts of severe depression and seizures, which rendered him despondent and uninspired for weeks on end. We visited Van Gogh’s room while we were there, and they were tiny. They felt more like cells, really.

Van Gogh’s studio, with baths used as treatment.

Van Gogh’s living quarters.

Both hubby and I found the place fascinating. There was detailed information on Van Gogh’s stay at the asylum, and the psychiatric treatment used in those days. Some were slightly more humane, like forced immersion in water for extended periods of time, intended to ‘shock’ and change a patient’s mood. Some were bizarre and crazy like the use of digitalis (more commonly know as digoxin), a cardiac glycoside now used to treat atrial fibrillation and heart failure. Luckily for Van Gogh, the 19th century saw a shift in the approach to mental health and psychiatry. The medical profession began to view mental illness as having an organic source and the mentally ill were treated as patients. The care and kindness Van Gogh received at Saint-Paul no doubt enabled him to continue painting.

There has been much speculation over possible diagnosis of Van Gogh’s illness – temporal lobe epilepsy or bipolar disorder are both likely candidates. His drinking and lifestyle no doubt exacerbated his condition. He was known to consume copious amounts of absinthe – ‘la fée verte’ as the French call it. Containing up to 74% alcohol, absinthe was the poison of choice for many other famous figures such as Hemingway, Modigliani, Oscar Wilde… Van Gogh suffered seizures and bouts of severe depression that were interspersed by periods of manic-like activity where he painted profusely, which makes bipolar disorder a definite possibility. Today, this facility still uses art as part of therapy for its patients.

Leaving Saint-Paul, we headed into the town of St-Rémy-de-Provence. St-Rémy is a wonderful walking town. We wandered down the streets, trying to decide on a place for dinner. I had a shortlist of restaurants but we wanted to check out the menus before we made a reservation. We liked the look of Le Bistrot des Alpilles so I went in to make a reservation for dinner. While not too big and quietly pleasant, St-Rémy was a little too touristy for me though. I did however find some wonderful cushion covers in one of the many homewares shops.

At dinner time we made our way back to the restaurant. We were greeted warmly and shown to our table. I was asked when I made the reservation if I wanted a table indoors or outdoors. We opted for outdoors as it was a beautiful night. The menu was only in French but we found our way through it without any difficulty. Girolles were in season so I ordered these yummy mushrooms fried in garlic and butter. They were oh so yummy. Hubby had sardines as an entrée and was amazed by the delicate flavours of the dish. My main was the gnocchi with prawns and it was beautiful – strong, earthy flavours accentuated by the sweetness of the prawns. Our entire meal was delicious and we thoroughly enjoyed it, especially when it was washed down by a carafe of lovely Alpilles Rosé. We returned to Maussane late in the night, sleepy but very satisfied.

14/9/12 – Orange & Châteauneuf-du-Pape

Tags

Arc de Triomphe, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, France, La Mere Germain, Maussane-les-Alpilles, Orange, Theatre Antique, wine-tasting

Our first day in Provence dawned bright and sunny but we awoke to the sounds of the howling ‘Le Mistral’ winds. Yep, we were in Provence alright, and right in the middle of the second day of Mistral winds. We headed down to the terrace for breakfast but Monique informed us that breakfast was to be served indoors today due to the strong winds. I got to chatting with Serge a little during breakfast. Ours was a typical French ‘connaissance’. I have always found the French to be warm and friendly, but in general, they are rather reserved people. They don’t go spilling their lives’ story to every person they meet. They spend time building relationships and friendships. They take the time to get to know you, before deciding if you get to move past into the inner sanctum where you become a friend, and not just an acquaintance. It is this honesty that draws me to the French. I like the lack of pretense, I like the honest frankness. I like that if we don’t like each other, we remain acquaintances, and there is no need to have pretend ‘friendships’.

Anyway, Serge and I got to talking about the weather – favourite conversation topic for the French and basic conversation in French 101. According to him, the Mistral runs in 3-day cycles. We were currently in our second day. However, the benefits of having the Mistral was the clear blue skies, without a single wisp of clouds. Serge said the strong wind blows the clouds away and so there is never any rain when the Mistral is around.

We met our fellow guests at the breakfast table. They were all returning guests to the châmbres d’hotes. Some of them holiday there annually. They were mostly from other European countries like Belgium, Germany and Switzerland but the language of choice at the breakfast table was French. Yay me, but poor mum, dad and hubby. I was a bit of a source of fascination for about 10 minutes when they found out that I had been learning French for a little over a year. Apparently my accent was very good, and they were very impressed by my French. They said I speak normally, in the way the language should be spoken in everyday use. I guess that’s the benefits of learning French with a native, and avoiding the common ‘learning techniques’ that people use to learn the language. I had to store that up to tell my tutor. Serge told me he thought I had been learning the language for a few years at least… If I were a dog, my little tail would have been wagging nonstop

Our breakfast was the typical French breakfast that hubby and I had come to love the last time we were in France – there was a variety of breads, croissants, chaussons aux pommes, choquettes (a regional specialty), about 6 different types of home-made jams, french butter (mmm….), chèvre with ‘les herbes provençale’ (hubby’s favourite), crêpes (made fresh by Monique), eggs (cooked the way you wanted), endless pots of coffee, tea and juice… Mum and dad could not believe the amazing spread. Conversation was endless and lively at the table. It was a wonderful breakfast. It was close to 9am when we finally left the breakfast table with regret. We had places to see, lunch reservations and a private wine tasting booked for the day so we could not afford to be late.

Spending the morning in Orange.

Our first stop for the day was Orange. Orange is a small town that boasts two of the finest Roman monuments in Europe, both listed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. We got there rather early and found a carpark without much trouble. Then we began the hike uphill to the ‘Théâtre Antique’. It would have been a pleasant walk were it not for the Mistral. The wind was so strong that I almost got blown over a couple of times and that is no exaggeration. We had to constantly shield our eyes from the dust. It felt like we were getting coated with dust.

Entrance to the Théâtre Antique.

The Théâtre Antique d’Orange is an impressive and amazingly well preserved theatre that can hold up to 7,000 spectators. Its superb acoustics makes it ideal for concerts, which are held over the warm summer months. The theatre’s stage wall, which is built of red limstone, is the only Roman stage wall to remain intact. This massive construction which is 103m long, 36m high and over 1.8m thick is a testament to the engineering and architectural prowess of the Roman empire. The new roof above the theatre is an interesting contrast to the ancient building. Built to protect the stage wall from the elements, it has been specifically engineered to ensure that it did not interfere with the acoustics of the stage.

Théâtre Antique d’Orange.

The sheer size of the stage wall.

From 1925-37, excavations next to the theatre unearthed the ruins of a temple. It is believed that it was part of the theatre, forming an Augusteum, which is an architectural unit devoted to the worship of Roman emperors. We spent close to two hours at the theatre. The audioguide was extremely informative and you really have to be there to appreciate the sheer size of the construction.

Ruins of a roman temple.

We then moved on to the next great Roman monument in Orange – l’Arc de Triomphe. This monument was built to celebrate Roman conquest and supremacy. When the first Roman army attempted to conquer Gaul in 105 BC., it was defeated near Orange with a loss of 100,000 men. Three years later, the Romans returned and triumphed. They built this monument to celebrate that victory. The arch has intricate decorations devoted to war and maritime themes.

L’Arc de Triomphe.

The intricate decorations on the arch.

Still braving the Mistral.

Our next stop was Châteauneuf-du-Pape, where we had lunch reservations at La Mère Germain. Châteauneuf-du-Pape was a lot smaller and less touristy than I expected. We drove past the famous vineyards of the region before arriving at the town center. We arrived right on time for our lunch reservations. I was anticipating a busy touristy town, so I had made reservations in advance via email to ensure we had a table for lunch. The owner of La Mère Germain, André, was as friendly in person as he was in replying to my email. The staff didn’t speak English but were extremely friendly and helpful. I had requested a table on the patio, which overlooks the vineyards, but the Mistral made that impossible for the day. Lunch was a choice from a set menu. The food was good regional cuisine, and surprisingly reasonably priced. We got chatting to the table next to us. Turns out they were a couple from Sydney – hubby was Australian but the wife was French, and they visit Provence every year to visit her elderly mother. We were chatting away like old friends by the time we finished lunch, and bonding over our mutual love for the tropical Malaysian fruit, durian. An Australian who loved durian, now that was a first!

After lunch, André gave us directions to our next stop – Les Caves St Charles. It was a pleasant walk in the sun through the small streets of the town. My original plan for our day at Châteauneuf-du-Pape was a full day of chaffeured private wine tasting with an œnologie professor from Aix-en-Provence, Joël Corre. I had it booked months in advance, confirmed the dates, even offered to pay a deposit, which I was told wasn’t necessary. So imagine my disappointment and disgust when I contacted him a month prior to our departure for France to confirm our pick-up time and place, and was informed that he was not available on that day. I was offered another day instead, and was also informed that he was no longer able to pick us up from our chambres d’hôtes in Maussane-les-Alpilles and that we would have to meet him either at Aix-en-Provence or Châteauneuf-du-Pape instead. And yet, the price was still our initial agreed price of 500 euro for the four of us.

Left to find an alternative, I found Guy’s ‘cave’ on the internet. His private wine tasting had glowing reviews on TA. I sent a quick email enquiring if he did the tasting in English as well. I didn’t think my French was at ‘dégustation d vin’ level and I didn’t want my family to miss out on the experience by having to have everything translated. So I was very relieved when Guy’s prompt reply informed me that ‘yes, of course we speak English’.

Guy Brémond is the owner of Les Caves St Charles. Having travelled and working all over the world as a master sommelier, Guy’s knowledge of wine is extensive. Unlike our experience the previous year with our guide in Bourgogne, who had no knowledge of wine culture outside Burgundy, Guy had good knowledge of Australian wines and wine culture, which resulted in a lengthy and interesting discussion amongst the three of us. He was also able to explain the biological aspect of grape-growing and wine-making to mum and dad (who being biology teachers, made perfect sense to them and gave them a deeper understanding of the ingredients needed to make a good wine).

Wine tasting at Les Caves St Charles.

Our private wine tasting session was in a restored 13th century cellar. Guy had for us 2 whites (we were told whites are rare in Châteauneuf-du-Pape) and 6 reds. What I loved about the tasting was how he talked us through the style of each wine, gave us the opportunity to form our own opinions about the wines, and at no point did he divulge the price of each bottle. It was true wine-tasting for the sole sake of enjoying and tasting the wine – no emphasis on labels, or names, or ‘Robert Parker gave this ? points’. It was so pure and simplistic that it was an unforgettable experience. (Now we have been to ‘En Premier’ tastings of Bordeaux wines in Melbourne, where they had for tasting wines from well-known domaines – Haut Brion, Cheval Blanc, Mouton Rothschild, Comtesse Lalande, d’Yquem, along with some other 3rd and 4th growths. And while the wines were good, you could not help but feel that you were in a room with a bunch of pretentious twats who couldn’t wait to tell every stranger they met that they had 3 bottles of this, and 2 bottles of that stashed away in their cellar)

Guy spent about 2 hours with us, even allowing us to revisit wines that caught our interest. At no point did we feel the pressure to purchase anything. He only told us that he could ship the wines to us in Australia when we asked about shipping. It was only when we told him our choice of two bottles from the tasting did he finally reveal the price of each bottle, and his preferred choice to us. I think he was rather pleased that we picked two of his favourites out of the 6. It was a no brainer… We ordered a mixed case of our two favourites. (The wines arrived in Melbourne safely packaged and insulated.) At the end of our visit, Guy showed us around the cellar, pointing to the house above the cellar where he lives with his family. It was truly a wonderful experience and we enjoyed every minute of it.

Leaving the ‘cave’, we climbed up the hill to the ruins of the Château des Papes. Châteauneuf-du-Pape translates to ‘New Château of the Pope’. The château was built in 1317 by John XXII, an Avignon pope who planted the first vineyards. Today, the château lies in ruins, having mostly been burnt down in the 16th century Wars of Religion. From the hilltop, there is a wonderful view of the famous vineyards of Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Ruins of Château des Papes.

On the way back to the car, we decided to stop by at a little bistro for a cold drink. I had to drink as much Orangina as I could while I was in France. Finding a boulangerie next door, we decided to buy some bread for dinner. Luckily for us, we snagged the  very last baguette from the baker. Walking down the streets of the village, we found a butcher who had nice-looking ‘jambon’. We managed to buy some chips as well as some fruits, which would make for a simple but nice dinner.

We got back to Maussane just as the sun was setting. Sitting on the porch outside our rooms, we had our little ‘picnic’ of sorts. Serge saw us sitting outside and came by with a bottle of red wine to complete our meal. What a guy!

La Côte d’Azur

Tags

Biot, Cannes, Cote d'Azur, Eze, French Riviera, St-Paul-de-Vence, Travel

Alors, je suis bien rentrée de mes vacances en France. C’était des vacances super!  J’ai passé mes vacances sur La Côte d’Azur, en Provence et à Paris. D’abord, j’étais à Cannes. Je n’aime pas Cannes. C’est une ville un peu sale et pleine de pollution. Il y a beaucoup de voitures et les gents ne sont pas sympa. Je pense que c’est pire que Paris.

 

De Cannes, j’ai visité quelques villages perchés par exemple St-Paul-de-Vence, Biot et Éze. St-Paul-de-Vence est très chic. Il y a des galeries d’art et des magasins de luxes. La vue d’en haut du village est magnifique. J’ai senti que je suivais les pas de Prévert ou d’Yves Montand dans la rue. Près de St-Paul-de-Vence, il y a La Fondation Maeght. C’est un des  meilleurs musées d’art moderne dans le monde. Pendant ma visite là-bas, il y avait l’exposition des œuvres de Gérard Gasiorowski. Gasiorowski était un peintre français. Il était un peintre radical qui utilisait quelques styles de l’art différents. Il avait l’air un peu fou et suicidaire. C’est l’indice d’un peintre doué, n’est-ce pas ? Regardez Van Gogh, Picasso, Dali…

 

Éze est mon village préféré. J’y ai trouvé la tranquillité et le calme malgré qu’il y avait beaucoup de touristes. En haut du village, on peut voir la beauté de La Côte d’Azur. C’est un vue inoubliable!

 

Biot est un autre village que j’aime bien aussi. C’est moins touristique que St-Paul et Éze. On peut visiter des ateliers de l’artisans du village. Il y a beaucoup d’artisans dans ce village. Il y a des artisans de verre, de bijouterie… Marc Zanardelli est un maroquinier dans le village Biot. Les sacs cuir de Marc sont fabriqués à la main. Ils sont très chics, avec des couleurs très vivantes. J’ai acheté un petit sac rouge. Quand je le vois, il me rappelle mon séjour sur La Côte d’Azur. Au centre du village, il y a une crêperie super. Elle s’appelle Auberge du Vieux Village. C’est un resto avec des crêpes et du kir maison délicieux. Nous y avons pris un bon repas.

13/9/12 – Aix-en-Provence and Maussane-les-Alpilles

Tags

Aix-en-Provence, Cannes, Cote Bastide, Fleur de Thym, France, Maussane-les-Alpilles, Provence

We were up bright and early in the morning. I wanted to explore Cannes a little before we left for Provence later in the day. It seemed like such a waste that we did not get to see much of the city. Hubby, mum and me were keen to get moving but dad had just about had enough walking and decided to stay back at the apartment. So we set off on the 10 minute walk from the apartment to the beach. It was early in the morning and the shops were still closed, but the morning traffic was starting to build up. Still, it was a very pleasant walk in the early morning sun. The air was fresh and the streets were still quiet.

Festival de la Plaisance in Cannes.

The Festival de la Plaisance was in full-swing in Cannes, as evidenced by the banners and pop-up tents that were everywhere along the beach. The Festival de la Plaisance is the annual yacht exhibition. Potential yacht buyers flock to Cannes to see the latest yachts on the market. It was clearly not our thing as we do not have a few spare million dollars lying around.

The beach was almost deserted when we got there. There was a group of local young adults engaged in a team-building activity of sorts, and one lone swimmer who was braving the morning chill. She didn’t last very long in the cold waters though. There were big cruise ships anchored in the harbour, a reminder of what a popular tourist destination the French Riviera is.

The many cruise ships that visit Cannes.

Sunbeds and umbrellas line the beach.

On our way back to the apartment, we decided to stroll down Boulevard de la Croisette. This famous street is lined with expensive luxury hotels and designer boutiques of every name imaginable, testament to the glitz and glamour that is often associated with Cannes.

Boulevard de la Croisette.

We also walked down rue d’Antibes, which seemed like a nice shopping street for those of us who don’t have an unlimited credit card limit. There were a few French labels that looked interesting. I would have liked to have spent some time here but we were already running late. Walking back to our apartment, we grabbed some croissants and pastries from a boulangerie for breakfast. It was late morning when we finally checked out of our apartment and began our journey to Aix-en-Provence.

We got to Aix-en-Provence early in the afternoon. Aix-en-Provence is the former capital of Provence. It is now an international students’ town thanks to the university, which was founded by Louis II of Anjou in 1409. The fountains for which Aix is well-known for were added to the town centre in the 18th century.

Fontaine de la Rotonde.

Aix’s grandest boulevard, Cours Mirabeau is a beautiful street lined with trees, cafes and hotels. Clothes stalls line this boulevard every Tuesday and Thursday. When we got there, it was closing time and most stall-holders were beginning to pack up.

The stalls on Cours Mirabeau.

It was very pleasant indeed, strolling down this beautiful boulevard, with the sun shining on our faces. Aix’s famous fountains greeted us along the way.

La Fontaine des Neuf Canons.

La Fontaine d’Eau Chaude.

La Fontaine du Roi René.

Along the way, I saw a confiserie. Eager to try the Calisson d’Aix, I went in to have a look. Calisson d’Aix is an almond-paste delicacy with sugar icing. The little boat-shaped pastries are given out at the Notre Dame de la Sed church in Aix-en-Provence every September 1st, to celebrate a vow made to ward off the plague in 1630. The Archbishop of Aix chanted the latin ‘Venite ad Calicem’, which was translated in provencale to ‘Venes toui i calissoun’, or ‘Venez tous au Calisson’ and the name stuck. The confiserie was a sugar wonderland, with sweets and treats of all sorts, displayed to tempt the strongest-willed among us. I bought a bag of calissons and mum, with her sweet-tooth, could not resist trying one of the many sweets on offer.

Confiserie Béchard.

Calisson d’Aix.

We decided to explore the many small cobble-stoned streets. We passed chocolate shops by Meilleur Ouvrier de France chocolatiers. The Meilleur Ouvrier de France is a title given to craftsmen as a recognition of being among the best in their profession. The competition is held every 4 years. In this competition, the candidate is given a set time and materials to create a masterpiece, which is then judged by his peers who were previous MOFs winners. The MOF is a very prestigious title in France and preparation for the competition can take years. A MOF is a craftsman who is recognized by his peers as being one of the best in his profession and are held in the highest regard in France.

Walking down rue Fernand Dol, I came across the most amazing homeware store, Coté Bastide. It has an amazing array of French griege (mixture of grey and beige) homewares – there were table settings, candles, napkins, soaps, bath oils… all so French, all so divine. I wanted to buy everything, but sadly realised we did not have the excess weight in our luggage. Walking further down to Aix’s first gothic church, Église St-Jean-de-Malte, we came across a designer clearance store. Hubby spent some time agonizing over some blue loafers before we finally moved on.

Église St-Jean-de-Malte.

Église St-Jean-de-Malte, which now houses the Musée Granet, is a former priory of the Knights of Malta. Tummies rumbling, we decided to head back to Cours Mirabeau to grab some lunch. We got some fruit and cheese from the local grocer, some bread and croissants from a boulangerie, and sat on a bench along the boulevard. How very French of us!

The beautiful Cours Mirabeau.

I wonder if it was the glorious surroundings that made our simple lunch so satisfying. By the time we were finished, there was not a single crumb left. We decided it was time to head along to our chambres d’hôtes. We arrived at the lovely Le Clos de l’Acacia, which was to be our home for the next 4 nights, late in the evening. We were warmly welcomed by our hosts Monique and Serge Corbier and shown to our rooms. Both Monique and Serge speak a little English but when they learnt that I was learning French, they insisted I speak to them in French. I was delighted to find that I was going to be practising my French a lot with them after all. This was mum and dad’s first experience with a B&B in France, and boy were they in for a treat!

Our room at Le Clos de l’Acacia.

Prior to our arrival, I had asked Monique to book us a restaurant for dinner as I predicted that we would be arriving rather late in the evening and didn’t want to be hunting around for a restaurant in a little town. Maussane-les-Alpilles is a small village with about 2000 residents and there are not too many restaurants in town. We were told that we had reservations for 8pm and were given directions to get to the restaurant.

We arrived at restaurant Fleur de Thym right on time, which wasn’t that difficult to do considering it was about 2 minute’s drive away. We were promptly shown to our table by the friendly staff. We were so glad we had reservations as we watched other people getting turned away. The restaurant was at capacity on a Thursday night. There was a choice of two menus – 20 or 30 euro. It was an unanimous decision – we were going with the 30 euro set menu. The menu was in French (but it can be explained to you in English if needed). I was very proud of myself as I managed to translate the menu for my family without any help. I asked the waitress to recommend a bottle of local rosé and really enjoyed the bottle that was brought to our table. It was very well priced too! The food was simple but so well cooked to highlight the the natural flavours, and oh so delicious. Service was attentive and excellent even though there were only two waitresses working with the restaurant at full capacity. We thoroughly enjoyed our meal. I even got to chatting with one of the waitress as she came round to clear our plates. Turns out the chef was her husband, and she was rightfully very proud of him and pleased that we enjoyed our meal.

12/9/12 – Éze & Monaco

Tags

Cafe de la Place, Cannes, Cote d'Azur, Eze, Fragonard, France, French Riviera, Le Cannet, Le Pinocchio, Monaco, Nice

Our second day on the French Riviera started bright and early again. Our first stop was the village of Éze. From Cannes, we took the Moyenne Corniche to Éze village, which gave us amazing views of the coast along the last part of our route. Éze is yet another village perché, about 1,400 ft above the sea, that is very popular with the tourist crowd. Cars are not allowed into the village so one has no choice but to park the car and hike up into the village. The tiny carpark was almost full even though we got there early, and we were very fortunate to get one of the last few available parking. Like most tourist destinations in the Côte d’Azur, parking is not free. In fact, you could even say it is rather pricey but since you don’t have any other parking options, you just pay the parking fee, which is precisely what we did.

View of Éze village from the carpark.

Before we began the steep hike up to the village, we stopped by the Tourism Office. There is a discount coupon you can pick up for free from the Tourism Office which gives you a 10% off purchases at any Fragonard store in France and I was keen to take advantage of that.

I personally liked Éze more than St-Paul-de-Vence. The two villages had many similarities but I found Éze just a bit more picturesque and less pretentious compared to St-Paul-de-Vence. While I had read that the climb up to the vllage was very steep, we didn’t find it anymore so than St-Paul-de-Vence. By then, my parents were getting rather adept at walking uphill (poor things) and we rather enjoyed our walk through the village. There was so much to see, and the views of the coast that peeked through the buildings were amazing.

Walking uphill into the village.

Still, you’d best be wearing your best walking shoes as the footpaths are not too easy on the feet. Like St-Paul-de-Vence (maybe it’s a trend in these touristy villages), the streets are paved with tiny pebbles.

Streets of Éze.

But the beauty and charm of the village is so worth it. Everywhere we went, we were struck by the beauty of the place. Postcard-worthy courtyards, the brilliant blue of the sea, tiny hidden lanes and shops with beautiful goods for sale greeted us at every turn. There was also an abundance of art galleries and studios.

Yet another art gallery up ahead.

It is definitely a village that I would like to live in. I would have loved to stay at one of the few hotels in the village, waking up to the beautiful views in the morning, or enjoying a good cup of coffee in one of the many sunny courtyards. However, on checking out the price as we were passing one of them, I almost had a heart attack – 360 euro per night for a standard double room at Château Eza during off-peak season. The prices were even crazier than the prices in Paris. Oh well, maybe if I win the lottery one day…

Château Eza.

For now, I had to be content with soaking up the atmosphere and the beauty of the place. To be honest, I’m not even sure the photos does it justice.

Hubby and me wandering through the streets of Éze.

The beauty of Éze in the morning sun.

Another tranquil and serene courtyard.

We finally made our way right to the very top of the village. The Jardin Exotique is right at the very top. While I personally had not much interest in the different varieties of cactus found there, the view was so worth the 4 euro you have to pay to get in. There is also the ruins of a 12th century fortified castle on top of the hill.

The castle ruins.

The view of the coast from the top of the village was breathtaking. It is said that on a fine day, you can see out as far as Corsica.

View of the coast from Jardin Exotique.

That’s why it’s called La Côte d’Azur.

Leaving the village, we decided to have an early lunch. We found a little restaurant at the foot of the village called Le Pinocchio. It was another sunny day, although there was a little chill in the wind, but we still decided to sit outside. The meal was pleasant enough and surprisingly not as pricey as I expected. Being a tourist trap, some of the restaurants we saw inside the village had rather expensive menu prices on their doors.

On the way back to our car, mum and I decided to stop by the Fragonard store. It was a great place to pick up little souvenirs for friends and family and the 10% discount card I picked up at the Tourism Office definitely came in handy. I even bought a bottle of perfume for myself aptly named Maman Chérie, a great souvenir to remember this wonderful trip I took with my mum.

The drive to Monaco was rather tedious. Traffic was heavy, and the people who told me that Monaco is a nightmare to drive in was right. Poor hubby did really well with the driving even though my navigation skills fell really short. The densely populated high-rise buildings blocked the signal for my iPad. Even though I had mapped the route out with viaMichelin, the confusing turns and routes were rather disorientating and we ended up in Fontvielle instead of Monaco Ville. We decided to take the first carpark we could find instead of trying to find our way back to Monaco Ville. It meant that we got to walk along the harbour.

Luxury yachts docked at Fontvielle.

Luxury is thy name.

Walking along Port de Fontvielle.

We began the trek to the Palais Princier. It was a fairly long walk, with a steep climb up the hill to get to the royal palace. Along the way, we walked past the Terraces de Fontvielle, which had an exhibition of HSH Prince Rainier III’s collection of vintage cars. Hubby and mum expressed interest in the exhibition, while dad and I were just glad to be heading into an air-conditioned environment. At 6 euro entry fee, it was not bad, although I personally would have preferred the Oceanographic Museum. Hubby was quite happy snapping away with his camera, and mum was delighted to come across a section devoted to her favourite F1 team – Ferrari.

Monaco’s Palais Princier.

We walked up rather long flights of steps to get to the top of the hill where the Palais Princier sits. Truth be told, I found the palace rather drab and disappointing. I’ve read that the interior boasts fabulous furniture and decorations but it is only open to the public in summer. At least being on the top of a hill gave us a great panoramic view of the city.

View of Monaco.

Trying to beat the traffic – Monaco comes alive in the evening, when it becomes a playground for the rich and wealthy – we decided to head back to Cannes. We were hoping to drive through Villefranche-sur-Mer and St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and manage a quick visit to Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild before they closed at 6pm. Sadly for us, the iPad navigation failed us once more and we ended up heading into Nice (with its nightmarish one-way streets) instead, right smack in the middle of peak hour traffic. I felt bad for poor hubby, who was stuck behind the wheel. Realizing we were never going to make Villa Ephrussi on time, we decided to just head back to Cannes. Somehow we ended up on the famous Promenade des Anglais. While the drive along the coast was nice, I did not get what the fuss is all about. Maybe for me, a pebbled beach just doesn’t look right, and the endless rows of resorts and hotels lining the beachfront just reminded me of any other beachfront popular with the tourist crowd. I didn’t find it any different to Surfer’s Paradise here on the Gold Coast in Australia. At least, Surfer’s Paradise has a beautiful sandy beach.

It took us over an hour to get out of Nice, before we were back again on the autoroute heading to Cannes. I had booked us dinner at a restaurant at Le Cannet to get us away from the hustle and bustle that is Cannes. The restaurant Café de la Place had good French reviews on the internet, and they seemed very friendly when I emailed them to make a reservation.

Dinner at Café de la Place at Le Cannet.

We got to Le Cannet a little earlier than expected. With the traffic situation (yes, there are traffic jams in Cannes during peak hour), there didn’t seem to be any point heading back to the apartment to get changed and freshened up. The restaurant was just setting up for dinner service but mum and dad had had just about enough walking for the day. The restaurant staff very kindly showed them to our table even though technically, the restaurant was not open yet. Hubby and I decided to explore the streets. By then, pretty much everything was closed, but there was an eclectic mix of shops on rue Saint-Sauveur. We found the neighbourhood quite charming.

The restaurant opens out on to a terrace, which I’m sure is amazing in summer-time. However, we were there mid-September and the nights, while still pleasant enough had a slight chill in the air. Living in a tropical country his whole life, my dad is not a fan of the cold. (He sometimes feels the need to turn the heater on here in Melbourne, right in the middle of summer). We still sat outside for our dinner, but we did not have the terrace. Our table was underneath an awning of sorts, which provided some shelter from the chilly night breeze.

We were starving so we were ready to order as soon as the kitchen was open. The menu was simple and unpretentious, with emphasis on fresh seasonal produce and French flavours. Soon, the restaurant began to fill-up with local patrons. The atmosphere became warm, cozy and lively, with animated French chatter and conversation overflowing from each table. Every table was filled and there was not a single vacant seat in the house. (Good thing I made reservations.) It was clearly obvious that this restaurant is a local favourite. In fact, I think we were the only tourists there. Sitting on my seat, with my glass of wine, enveloped by French conversation and laughter emanating from tables around me, I thought this was the perfect way to finish a long, tiring day of sight-seeing.

11/9/12 – St-Paul-de-Vence & Biot

Tags

Biot, Cannes, Cote d'Azur, Fondation Maeght, France, French Riviera, La Verrerie de Biot, Marc Zanardelli, Pascal Guyot, St-Paul-de-Vence

We left for St-Paul-de-Vence bright and early. Armed with my iPad for navigation, we found our way with no problems at all. Hubby found it rather easy getting back into the habit of driving on the wrong side of the road, and I found navigation much easier this time around. We got to St-Paul-de-Vence just after 9am.

St-Paul-de-Vence is a classic medieval village perché. These villages were built on a hill to avoid enemy attacks. St-Paul-de-Vence was first ‘discovered’ by artists like Modigliani in the 1920s. It became a ‘celebrity haunt’ for French movie stars and French personalities which included Sophia Loren, Catherine Deneuve, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre, Greta Garbo, Yves Montand, Simone Signoret, Jacques Prévert, just to name a few.

Entering the village through Porte de Vence.

The village is a popular tourist destination and groups of tourists from the cruise ships descend on this tiny village in droves. We were lucky we got there early in the morning before it got too crowded. The streets are lined with a variety of shops and art galleries. Yes, very touristy, but charming nonetheless.

One of the many quaint shops lining the streets.

Wondering down the streets of St-Paul-de-Vence.

Being on a hilltop, the streets were a steep climb uphill. All the streets were made out of tiny pebbles, arranged in a myriad of intricate patterns. It is definitely not a village to explore while wearing your favourite stilettos.

The streets of St-Paul-de-Vence.

We spent the whole morning exploring the village and its shops. For lunch, we were so tempted to stop by at Le Tilleul. The restaurant has a terrace seating, which was full of chic French diners, enjoying a glass of wine and the customary cigarette. It was so tempting but realizing we were short on time as we had planned to spend our afternoon at Fondation Maeght and Biot, we opted for the quicker takeaway version next door at Les Gourmandises du Tilleul. We had yummy takeaway baguettes. We got in just before the lunch crowd and even managed to score a bench on the opposite side. The baguettes were washed down by some ice-cream.

View of the surrounding countryside.

Getting into the daily French rhythm, I felt the need for an espresso on our way out of the village. We walked past the boules pitch next to Le Café de la Place just outside the village, and a busker was singing chansons français to the lunch crowd. Of course we had to stop by for a coffee. It was nice and relaxing, sitting under the trees, with live French singing, and a cup of good espresso.

On the way back to our car, we stopped by a santon shop. Santons are little clay figurines made to represent saints or local figures. The figures are painstakingly painted to have all the facial expression and individuality of a human being.

Moving on to our next destination – Fondation Maeght, we parked our car at the carpark and walked up the hill to one of the finest museums of modern art in Europe. Entry was 14 euro per adult, with an extra 5 euro for filming and photography. The extra 5 euro also got you a little pin that you could wear to identify yourself as a person who had permission to photograph the artwork. Hubby thought that was kinda cool. The collection on display was that of artist Gérard Gasiorowski, a French painter that some have likened to Van Gogh.

Gérard Gasiorowski’s work on display.

Even though I am not a modern art person, I found the exhibition interesting. Gasiorowski was clearly extremely talented. The museum itself was chock-ful of little gems. If we weren’t keeping track of time, I’m sure we could have easily spent an entire afternoon there.

La Partie de Campagne by Fernand Léger.

La Vie by Marc Chagall.

The gardens of grounds of the museum is filled with sculptures and statues by famous artists. It was a delight to walk under the cool shade of the trees because you never knew what you would stumble across.

La Caresse d’un Oiseau by Joan Miro.

By the time we left Fondation Maeght, it was late afternoon. It was a short drive to Biot but this is where the navigation with the iPad let me down a little. We struggled to find a way into the village. We saw the sign for La Verrerie de Biot and decided to stop by to check out the the Galerie Internationale du Verre. It is a museum with free entry, which houses glasswork from all over the world. La Verrerie de Biot also houses a glass workshop where you can see artisans hard at work, making the famous bubble-flecked glasses.

Moving on we finally found a parking at the bottom of the village. Biot is another village perché, so it was a steep uphill walk to the village centre. Reaching the village centre, we decided to stop for a quick break at Auberge du Vieux Village. This quaint little restaurant is a crêperie like no other. We were welcomed warmly and Christel was very kind to recommend a crêpe with apples that was just delicious. I also tried their Kir Maison which was so refreshing. Hubby and dad tried the bière médiévale, which they both really liked. Mum however was not as adventurous with her choice of Orangina. We had a table outside and we sat down, had our crêpes and our drinks and people-watched, just like the French do. The weather was warm and sunny and it was really quite lovely.

After that, we wandered down rue Saint-Sébastien, checking out the various shops that lined the street. We walked into the atelier of Marc Zanardelli, an ‘artisan maroquinier’. Marc hand-makes his beautiful leather bags by hand. The quality is superb, the colour dazzling and the style ‘très chic’ as they would say in French. Needless to say, mum and I thought we had gone to bag-heaven. Marc’s lovely wife Muriel mans the shop-front and she was totally charming. We starting chatting in French and pretty soon we were getting along like old friends. She was more interested in making sure we were choosing a bag that we would love, than in trying to sell us something. Mum and I got a bag each and Muriel made sure we got our forms filled out correctly for the detaxe. My little cross-shoulder bag is a brilliant red and tan colour. I love it because everytime I look at it, I remember that wonderful afternoon spent in Biot.

L’Atelier de Pascal Guyot.

Further down the street, we found the atelier of Pascal Guyot with glassware in every colour imaginable. Every piece in the boutique is hand-made and signed by him. We decided to buy a ‘flaçon’. The jug was carefully wrapped in bubble-wrap for us to carry with us. On our way back to the car, I decided to check out the matching glasses to our jug as I was very tempted to get them as well. Imagine our surprise when we noticed the shelves were almost empty. In the span of a little over an hour, at least a dozen pieces had been sold. It would seem that production could barely keep up with sales. ‘Pascal’s pieces are very popular and they sell out very quickly,’ his wife proudly tells us.

Pascal’s son adding oxides to make the wonderful coloured glassware.

By the time we left Biot, it was late in the evening and after an exhausting day of walking, mum and dad were keen to head back to the apartment. We decided to forego our plan to visit Antibes. Wanting to have a quick dinner, we decided to get takeaway pizza for dinner, which we washed down with a tub of Häagen-Dazs ice-cream. And so that was our first day in La Côte d’Azur.