I Left my Heart in.....Provence

At the end of April, Greg had his first business trip since joining the OECD. I was delighted to learn that it was to be in Aix-en-Provence as seeing Provence has always been a long held wish of mine. I quickly invited myself along:).

We travelled by TGV which I was intrigued to try. We found it was a lot like Via, but faster which isn't necessarily a good thing as the blurry landscape inspires naseau! However, a top speed of over 300 km/hour it got us down south in only 3 hours.

The hotel, booked by Greg's work was fairly nondescript, but with an excellent downtown location. Greg headed off to work and I headed off to tour. As Aix centre ville is quite compact, I decided to eschew maps and itineraries and simply follow my nose....it turned out to be a delightful way to look around. I ended up on a tour of the Saint Sauveur cloisters, all in French. I had a smilar experience in the Tapestry Museum were a kindly gaurd asked me if I knew much about tapestries, then proceeded with a lengthy and delightful discourse on French history, language, travels etc....again all in French! I found the people of Aix to be undeterred by English speakers-they must figure we'll catch up with them eventually. The weather was hot and sunny and my favorite part of the day was sitting in a busy square eating lunch and people watching in the sun.....a few glasses of local wine and my contentment was complete!

That evening Greg and I went to a venerable old cafe frequented by Cezanne and friends, and then for an evening stroll. Aix comes alive at night, with cafes spilling onto the sidewalks and people on their evening walks clogging the narrow streets. It was a wonderful party atmosphere.

The next day, with work duties complete, we drove to nearby Avignon, the capitol of the Provence area. At first it appeared like any other city with the highway littered with shopping malls and billboards; however as we drove along the Rhone we suddenly saw the magestic Palais du Papes and fabled Pont d'Avignon in the distance. It felt as if we were driving into a fairy tale.

Our B&B turned out to be equally delightful. It is an old provencale farmhouse located on the Ile de Barthelasse, an island in the Rhone. Despite being a mere hop, skip and jump from Avignon, the Ile retains a rural charm so refreshing after the big city hustle of Paris. The hosts (fellow refugees from Paris) had completely renovated the house, and were thrilled but amazed that Greg used the pool (it was about 20 degrees C, warm for Canucks!!). The other guests were equally friendly and we spent a wonderful evening drinking champagne and discussing life them.

The next day we hopped in the car and headed to the Chateauneuf-du-Papes wine region. We learned that the wine is so expensive because the entire region is only about 50 hectares big; several grape varieties are grown, and most wines are a blend of these. We did an informative tasting in a cave that had been owned by the same family since the 1500's (!!!) and picked up a special (read pricey) bottle for our anniversary.

We next drove the prettiest 10 km's I have ever seen to the village of Orange. The scenery featured charming villas, olive trees, vineyards and poppies blowing in the wind. Orange had been an important Roman city, and boasts several ruins including an intact theatre that is still in use today. We toured the theatre, and ate lunch at a restaurant laid out beside its ancient wall.

The next morning we borrowed our hosts bikes to go on a wonderful ride around Ile de Barthelasse. It was literally a breathe of fresh air for this city mouse. Were we ever to move to Avignon, I would live on the Ile (although I hear it is prone to flooding!) We said goodbye to all our new friends, and finished out our time with a tour -and a dance- on the Pont d'Avignon. We learned that the origin of the song is from the guingettes, or dance halls, that used to line the Rhone.

'Sur le pont d'Avignon, on y danser, on y danser!'

Beautiful Belgium

For the Easter weekend this year we travelled to Belgium; Greg's Dad and his girlfriend (Dad's, not Greg's!) were visiting, so the four of us piled into a rental car and headed out.

The first adventure was actually renting the car. Greg had booked online, and so we assumed the pick up would be a breeze....blithely forgetting all about French bureaucracy! To get the car we needed drivers liscences, of course; we also needed our carte de sejour (residency) cards. As the address on the carte de sejour ws not our residence address the clerk wanted a bill or similar with our address on it. As we didn't have this with us, we needed to also show our passports. If we had a firstborn, no doubt they would've wanted that too! Finally (with a line up growing behind us) the clerk agreed to give us the car, warning that it was "tres exceptionelle".

Then the adventure of driving in Paris began! We found that it is definately a two person job, one to watch the GPS and figure out which crooked little road it wants you to take, and the other to keep a 360 degree look out for cars, bikes, scooters and pedestrians!

However, once out of Paris, the drive became idyllic with vistas of rolling green hills and tiny villages. We stoped for lunch (coq au vin, yum!) and then at the Vimy Ridge Memorial.

Vimy Ridge was all we had hoped it would be. At the same time imposing and serene, it lays like an exclamation point on the windswept lanscape. It is incredibly moving. The faces of the allegorical figures manage to conjure greif and hope together, perfectly capturing the spirit of the nation at the end of the Great War. The guides, young students from Canada, were friendly and knowledgeable. We also took a tour of the tunnel system, a true feat of engineering. Greg found the pocked lanscape particularly evocative, left as it was after the war to grow over.

The weather turned chilly and wet, so we returned to the car and on to Belgium. On the advice of a Belge co-worker of Greg's we went to Ghent which is considered a more authentic village then the picture perfect Bruges (but there is quite a rivalry between the two). We settled in at our eclectic B&B, run by a lovely Belge couple who are a jewellry designer and gallery owner respectively, and then struck out to explore. During the Middle Ages, Ghent was one of the largest cities in Europe due to the importance of the cloth trade. Today, the town remains accesible by foot, and we enjoyed the ancient Medieval buildings (built in the unique Flemish style) and canal like river systems. There is an unmistakable air of creativity about the place, with lots of funky shops, galleries and artisans studios to see. We also ate very well, with Meg trying the local speciality of waterzooi. Sadly, Greg had the stomach flu, so was unable to properly appreciate the many beers Belgium is famous for.

The next day we attended Mass (in Belge) at the beautiful St. Baavo cathedral, and travelled on to Bruges. We found it to also be very pretty, if a little more 'done up' than Ghent. Meg and Heather took a canal tour by boat, but had some difficulty understanding the guide who spoke Belge, German, French and English all with a song-songy drawl! We took a few moments to look in on the statue of the Virgin and Child by Michaelangelo at St. Michelskirch, then headed home.