Well its not quite a year but we did manage to pack plenty in to our stay. We found ourselves a lovely little farmhouse just outside St Remy de Provence which we we used as a base to see some of the region. Our pet cat, affectionately named dust bag by Mike, (according to him she looked like the contents of a hoover bag!!) gave the place a real homely feel as did the freshly picked lavender alongside our homegrown basil!
St Remy is a quaint little village with plenty of cafe bars and restaurants that kept us fed watered and amused. It is a maze of winding alleyways, tree lined boulevards and artisan shops selling local produce. It is also very central which allowed us to visit many of the surrounding villages.
Avignon, a tourist mecca, was one of our first stops. This is probably everything you imagine a Provencal town to be; stone cottages surrounded by medieval ramparts, vines to the outside and shops selling everything lavender related on the inside. It is dominated by the huge Palais des Papes and the accompanying Notre Dame Cathedral the enormity of which is best appreciated from the other side of the river in the Rocher des Doms gardens.
On our way back from Avignon we stumbled across Les Baux de Provence, one of France’s most beautiful villages (or so the sign on the outskirts told us). It is in the midst of the Alpillies national park and perched precariously on top of a hill above the surrounding vineyards and olive groves. The Chateau des Baux (or the remains of it anyway) is the star of the show. As well as providing a fabulous insight in to the lives of those around in the 10th and 11th centuries, we got to fire medieval crossbows (and both hit the bullseye) and view a demonstrations of an enormous medieval catapult. In addition it offered some truly spectacular views!
Provence is all about its village markets - on arrival our host gave us a list of one we could visit everyday! We chose the biggest at Carpentras. We decided to pass up the live kitten, baby goat and pot bellied pig that we for sale and just grab a bunch of organic fare for our picnic at the nearby fontaine de Vacluse - France’s most powerful spring. That is if you visit in winter. If, like us, you visit in the middle of summer all you can see of the spring are the water stains on the walls which show what a spectacular sight others before you must have witnessed!!! Nevertheless, the emerald green waters of the clam streams running from the source were still a beautiful spot for a pic nic.
We were told that the best way to explore the nearby marshlands of the Camargue was astride a horse so that is what we did. Our peaceful ride through the countryside provided an excellent vantage point from where we were able to spot an abundance of birdlife including pink flamingos and herons (there were plenty of others but to be honest we have no idea what they were!). We were slightly taken by surprise when our horses happily plodded waist deep though the river for part of the journey but aside from the wet shoes and mosquito bites it was amazing.
No trip to Provence would be complete without a tour of the lavender fields so ignoring the woman in the tourist office who told us it was too early in the season, we jumped in the car and headed for the Abbaye Notre-Dame de Senanque. We arrived to see an idyllic 12th century abbey surrounded by gloriously fragrant purple blooms. We gave a self satisfied smile, glad that we had decided to make the trip. We continued North towards the surrounding slopes of Mont Ventoux, Provence’s biggest mountain at 1909m high. Here fields of lavender are interspersed only with vinyards. A truly spectacular sight.
On our final day we crossed the border in to the Languedoc and headed towards the Pont du Gard, a huge Roman aqueduct now a UNESCO world heritage sight. Rather than simply drive there and walk across it, 8km up stream we jumped in a Kayak and lazily paddle our way towards the bridge, occasionally jumping overboard for a refreshing dip in the river.
More by good luck than good management we arrived in St Remy during the town’s annual festival. We were completely surprised to learn that the piece de la resistance was the evening’s bull fight. We looked around, checked that we were not in Spain - no, we were in the heart of a sleepy little Provencal town and then we were off to a bull fight!!! We were reliably informed that there would be no blood (not unless the matador was useless!!) they don’t kill the bull in France, they tie ribbon around its gigantic horns and incredibly athletic guys run precariously close whilst they try to cut it off. Strangely it was hugely entertaining especially when, to the squeals of the few hundred strong crowd, the half ton bull cleared the surrounding fence panel to chase after the matador that was taunting it!!!!
The next night’s bull related activities were slightly different - there were no professionals involved and they brought the bulls in to town!!! No safety of an arena this time just a few metal fences with holes wide enough for humans to pass through, surrounded a ramshackle pub/ restaurant which was selling beer to already leathered young french men!!! All the makings of a health and safety nightmare! (Brian if you are reading you would be having kittens). A wagon soon bulled up carrying the bulls. It simply dropped its tailgate and let them out. Unsurprisingly the bulls were not at all happy at this situation and ran directly at the drunk young lads who had squeezed through the railings and were waving pieces of cardboard at them. An interesting evening to say the least!
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