Yesterday we got home from a wonderful trip to France. It’s 3:30am and I (Julian) am wide-eyed, not yet adjusted to Pacific time, so thought I’d at least start on an entry. I’ll begin at the beginning, bien sur! We left Vancouver on July 14, flew via Toronto and arrived in Paris the following morning. The connection was very tight in Toronto but the agent at the gate there assured us our bags would make it. Esperons! Alas, our bags didn’t make it, so at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris we left Air Canada the telephone number at the place we would be staying in Provence. (Our bags ended up getting delivered to Provence four days later.)

D’accord, we made our way to Paris’s Gare de Lyon for our train ride to Avignon, in a way relieved we don’t have to lug our suitcases. As ours was an express TGV – train à grand vitesse – to Avignon, we traveled through what seemed endless lovely, rolling French countryside, our 300km/h descent south uninterrupted by stops along the way. In Avignon we were greeted at the station by Hilary’s friend Amy and her dad Kenny, with whom we stayed for a week in Provence. They had rented a place for the month of July near a town called Saignon, about an hour’s drive east of Avignon.

The drive to Saignon gave us a sense of what would be in store for the week. From the multitude of farms, orchards, olive groves and vineyards, we knew we were going to eat and drink very well. The medieval towns that crowned every hilltop would provide for much exploration and many a photo opportunity. And the brilliant sunshine would do wonders for our tans (or, in my case, lack thereof) as we lounged by the pool!

That’s right, a pool. That not insignificant detail about the place Amy and Kenny had rented was passed on to us by Amy prior to our arrival. The place, though, was about much more than the pool. It had sweeping vistas of lavender fields, olive groves and vineyards that poured down every hillside. There were rosemary hedges, cherry trees and plum trees on the property, as well as a boule court (sort of like bacchi) and a stand-alone brick outdoor fireplace under a veranda where we ate most nights that we dined at home.

Our first evening with Amy and Kenny we ate some bread and cheese and drank some wine before turning in. By the time we went to bed, the temperature had dropped from somewhere in the neighbourhood of 30 degrees – perfect pool temperature – to something close to 10 degrees – perfect for sleeping.

The following morning we went to nearby Apt for breakfast and to take in the weekly Saturday market. The highlight at breakfast was the café au lait for me and the chocolat chaud for Hilary. Fortified with caffeine/sugar, we plunged into the madness and cheeriness of the weekend market. That evening we had poulet rôti, to which Kenny had a particular loyalty(!), various cheeses and wines (again).

Our week in Provence was leisurely paced, and each day followed roughly the same routine: sleep in, hop in the car and visit a town or two, come home for a swim and nap, pick up something for dinner or eat out, and crash as our overindulgences dictated. The towns we visited during our daily excursions included Isle sur la Sorgue, Goultes, Oppède-le-Vieux, Gourdes, Saignon, Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, and Lacoste. The farthest of these was probably no more than 50 kilometres from what could modestly be called our “cottage”. So no we didn’t see the glamorous Côte d’Azur, the cosmopolitan cities of Marseilles or Avignon, or the legendary vineyards of Chateauneuf-de-Papes. We were relative homebodies, preferring less time in the car and more time exploring local sites, hanging out at home by the pool, eating and drinking, and sleeping when we wanted and for how long we wanted. Not that the local sites were anything but interesting. Following are highlights from each.

Isle-sur-la-Sorgue: The beautiful spring-fed Sorgue river with its source in nearby Fountain de Vaucluse (see below) meanders around/through Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, which is hailed by some as the Venice of France. On Sunday we took in part of the annual “blessing of the fish” celebration. Two teams of townsfolk reenact traditional ways of fishing and then bring their bounty to the eglise to be blessed. We were amazed by how many fish (trout) they pulled out of the river, some with their bare hands! What’s the “catch”, you may ask? It took us an embarrassingly long time to notice that at least some of the fish had been hooked previously and weighed down with rocks! A good show, nonetheless. Another highlight was our stop at a gorgeous rooftop café. Yet another was dipping our feet in one of the canals whose water couldn’t have been more than 50 degrees, which made for a nice refreshment on a hot day with lots of walking.

Goultes: After Isle sur la Sorgue we drove to nearby Goult to take in the annual fête du miel. Local vendors had on display (for sample too, bien sur) a variety of honeys. If memory serves, everyone’s favourite was the lavender variety. We also wandered through the town, snapping beaucoup de pictures.

Oppède-le-Vieux: Like many/most of the towns in the area, Oppède-le-Vieux had its origins in the 12th century, built on the top of a hill for defense purposes. Much of the area is now abandoned, though people still live in the houses as the foot of the small village. Check out these pictures of ruins of a medieval castle and a restored église.

Gordes: This town is perhaps the most picturesque of all the towns we visited. Its reputation for being beautiful well known, it was also the most touristy of towns we visited. We explored the remains of an underground olive mill which was once part of an extensive and very deep network of underground rooms in Gordes. Apparently this was fairly common among such towns: building underground had the advantage of keeping all development on hilltop, and for such activities as olive milling, underground building had the advantage of ensuring cool temperatures even during the heat of summer.

Fontaine-de-Vaucluse: This town was apparently a center of resistance during WWII. If mobilizing resistance was best achieved in a quaint little town with stunning views of a spring-fed river and a medieval cliff-top chateau, Fontaine-de-Vaucluse would be the perfect spot! After breakfast in a café we rented kayaks for a 2-hour paddle down the Sorgue. The pictures convey how beautiful it was. I was amazed by how many fish were in the river, which left me wondering if the fishermen in downstream Isle sur la Sorgue actually did catch fish with their bare hands!

Saignon: This town was 3km from the cottage and was our personal favourite. Not only did it too offer beautiful views and lovely old buildings, we also took pleasure in considering it “our” town. We dined one night in Saignon at a bistro with a great view but laughably slow service. All was forgiven when our sweet but dopey waiter mistook Hilary for a Parisian stylist he met once in Avignon. (Ed. note - he wasn't that dopey.)

Lacoste: On our final day we visited Lacoste, famous for being the home of the Marquis de Sade’s château. The château was recently bought by Pierre Cardin who is restoring part of it and has renovated part of the dungeon into his office! On the way home from Lacoste we stopped at Château-de-Mille, the area’s plus vieux vignoble, dating back to the 12th century, for a degustation. It has been owned by the same family in recent centuries and handed down five generations. Bien sur we sampled and bought!

On the Friday we said goodbye to the cottage and headed to Avignon. We bid sad farewells to Amy and Kenny with whom we shared lots and had so much fun, and boarded the train north to Paris.

On Friday night we stayed with Karene and Gauthier. Karene is looking amazing with just several weeks to go before she’s due, and Gauthier continues to obsess about what to name the baby! As if having a baby is not enough, K&G are soon moving to Barcelona and are frantically learning Spanish so they know how to ask for diapers at the grocery store. That night we had a lovely dinner at one of K&G’s favourite restaurants, Les Pengouins. (Ed note: They made us promise not to post the picture we took early the morning we left - hence no photos!)

Saturday morning we checked into a quaint hotel near Montparnasse train station recommended to us by Karene, and immediately departed to check out Louis XIV’s little cottage and garden known as Versailles. Having spent the last week in understated Provence, Versailles was a bit overwhelming, and, frankly, a bit disappointing for both of us. Sure it was stunning, but curatorial touches were sadly lacking, despite the top flight price of admission. The story of Versailles – the context, the history – isn’t told very well. I had been there before with Karene and Gauthier, and Gauthier as our very well informed tour guide provided that context/history, and at such low prices! It’s a shame I don’t remember much of what he said. So if you plan to go to Versailles, read up on it first to make the most of the steep admission fees. Probably the highlight was Marie Antoinette’s imaginative and non-linear (unlike everything else at Versailles) parc. She had a small village built, complete with picturesque gardens and a dairy so she and her friends could pretend to be regular folks.

Sunday we departed Paris 3 hours prior to our flight’s departure from Charles de Gaulle airport. Big mistake – we should have made it four hours or more given all that went wrong from hotel to check-in. I’ll spare the details and cut to the point: we missed our flight and so had to stay another a night in Paris. Hardly a punishment you might think but we were ready to come home. Besides, we were both scheduled to work on Monday. We checked into a place near the airport. I flicked on the television to catch the end of the Tour de France and Lance Armstrong’s mighty reign as perennial winner of the race. There were still two hours to go before they were expected to the finish line on the Champs Elysées. We could make it! We grabbed a bus to the train station and headed downtown. We guessed at what stop to get out at and luckily chose one that was about 100 metres from the finish line and close to a big screen television. It was quite a thrill – even to Hilary! – to witness such a significant moment in sports. Following the race we strolled along the Seine before returning to the hotel. (You'll have to trust on this one - we were in such a rush to catch the shuttle from our airport hotel that we didn't have time to go back to the room for the camera.)

We returned to the airport bright and early on Monday and were put on a morning flight to Montreal with a connection to Vangroovy. Unbeknownst to us Air Canada put us in business class from Paris to Montreal. Now that’s the way to travel! Our connection to Vancouver was without problems, and even our bags showed up.

We were sad to be home but so grateful for our experience in France. If any of you like what you hear and are interested in buying a place in Provence, we’d be interested in chipping in (as would Kenny we think!). Merci beaucoup again to Amy, Kenny, Karene and Gauthier pour tous.

For more photos, veuillez visiter le Gallery.