My guest blogger, Emily, continues:

We’ve become seduced by this lovely area of France, and had one of our most memorable experiences when we hiked into the forest to a fabulous 17th century sunburst bridge. It will remain in my memories of special places forever, along with the crumbling castle of Camarque standing alone, deep in the Dordogne, that we discovered many years ago. It is a magical place and quite off the beaten track - we found it in no guide book but were told by a couple who had an apartment in a nearby village. Our instructions were to travel the winding main highway through the mountains until we saw a farm house on the left and a sign advertising an auberge on the right. We then parked in a wide space beside the road and hiked a ways up the narrow 2 lane highway (a little scary, with traffic zipping by) until we came to a small dirt path leading into the woods, with fading signage stating “no vehicles or picnicking allowed.” In only moments all sights and sounds of the 21st century were left behind as we trudged along beside a small stream, with stone remains of an old aqueduct running alongside. If we hadn’t been forewarned, we may have missed the bridge entirely because - seemingly - only a small hump-backed incline just one stone high crossed over the stream. However, after crossing the bridge and turning back down in front - on the downstream side - we were treated to the sight of this marvelous bridge.

Easing down the fairly steep incline, we ate our lunch under the huge spreading branches of an old oak tree, sitting on large rocks above the stream and gazing at this wonderful bridge. We felt so special to have found it. Lucky us! In true French fashion we ignored the “no picnicking” sign we had seen earlier.
(but were very careful to carry out everything we brought in.)

I thought of the people using this bridge over the centuries, hauling their produce and wood; guiding donkeys and sheep; perhaps carrying crates of chickens. I thought of the unknown mason who built the bridge. Was he simply following orders to create a tribute to Louis XIV, the sun king, or was he a mason who was an artist at heart, leaving his mark for all to enjoy? I like to think it was the latter.

Sideroads of Europe

My guest blogger, Emily, continues

The town of Lourmarin, about 30 min. through the vineyards from us, is one of our favorites. There’s a lively outdoor market there on Fridays, which features produce, meats, cheeses, olives and all of the typical Provencal products: tablecloths in blue, yellow and red Provencal patterns, covered cheese baskets, soaps, herbs, olive oil and such. It’s very colorful. We like to sit outside for a coffee in the comfortable wicker chairs at the small Cafe Gabby - at the intersection of three narrow cobblestone streets - and listen to the musicians across the way playing “le jazz americain.” One day we stopped by on our way home and discovered a wonderful old cafe with a zinc covered bar with bunches of grapes carved into the metal.

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The first time we spent the day in Lourmarin we went to a restaurant for lunch, eating on the terrace under the shade of huge, graceful plane trees. (they are magnificent, and line many roads leading into the villages) I describe our meal because it pertains to the rest of my story. We chose the menu: the plat du jour. We began with a soup of pureed red pepper, followed by a a main course of filets of white fish braised in white wine, and pureed sweet potatoes with Wasabi sauce. It was delicious. Shortly after we arrived, a young French family was seated across the way from us - the two little boys (I later asked) were ages 2 and 5. The adults ordered the same special as we did and the “child’s plate” for the boys. We were astonished to see that the child’s plate was not some version of chicken nuggets, fries, hot dogs or some such thing, but an exact replica of what we all were eating but in a small portion. It was a delight to see the little 2 year old with that gigantic French soup spoon, eating the red pepper soup ( all over his face as with any 2 year old) and relishing the potatoes with Wasabi! We got such a kick out of that. Now we know how the French develop such a sophisticated palate - they start young!

Market Photos

Sideroads of Europe

Guest blogger, Emily, continues on her time in Provence last summer.

We’re off - exploring the immediate countryside, driving on narrow, hilly two-lane roads past grey-green olive groves and rolling vineyards nearly ripe for the harvest. This is not Linda’s car (!) but an adorable old “deux-chevaux” (two horsepower)… a Citroen 2CV, which used to be ubiquitous throughout France. These little cars originally were designed after WWII with the French farmer in mind, and were priced low and styled to maneuver comfortably on tiny roads and across ploughed fields. There aren’t so many around anymore because replacement parts are hard to come by. This fixer-upper was parked next to the mairie in the nearby village of Peypin d’Aigues, with a “for sale” sign asking 2000 Euros!

This small square with it’s traditional fountain, sits right on the main road in Peypin d’Aigues and offers a shady place to rest and watch the world go by.

One of the delights of Provence is the long alley of trees bordering roads throughout the countryside. Usually they are plane trees, many more than 200 years old. This road leads to nearby La Tour d’Aigues, one of the larger villages in the area.

The centerpiece of La Tour d’Aigues is a once majestic Renaissance chateau. Sadly, only the facade remains, as it was a casualty of the Revolution. However, it still is a living part of the region where spectacles and expositions are held. Stadium seats are behind the facade.

The chateau also is a gathering place for the men of the town. Men young and old come here to play lively games of “boules” or “petanque.” (same game, different names) Sometimes they play in front of the chateau and other times they can be seen at the bottom of the now dry moat, tossing the metal balls with great precision and great seriousness.

This charming little stone chapel stands alone beside the road. It must be quite beautiful when all of the lavender plants surrounding it are in bloom in the summer.

At one time (maybe still?) the schools were segregated - one side for boys, the other for girls.

Sideroads of Europe

We did a home exchange last summer with a very nice couple who live in Pebble Beach, California, one of the most beautiful places in the world. Emily has kindly agreed to write of her time in France as a guest host here on Frenchless in France while we are in the States for yet another grandbaby-number 7-and I will be posting a few things I have saved up but, in the meantime, I think you will really enjoy Emily’s writing and her delight with France.

We are here! After nearly seven years of watching on-line while the Paris apartment was being remodeled (the first time) and the house in Provence was being built and furnished, it’s as though - like Alice’s rabbit hole - we’ve fallen right through the computer monitor and landed in the middle of “Frenchless in France.” We’re dizzy from the sensation of “deja vu”…or maybe it’s the jet lag! I’ll be sharing with Linda’s readers some of the people and places we encountered during our stay in la belle France. Because I’m surely the last person in the western hemisphere to begin using a digital camera (this trip), my technique leaves something to be desired; my photos will be more touristic and less artistic than Linda’s. However, I hope that they will hold your interest in things francais while she is out of the country.

Cheers!
Emily

We’re located, chez Mathieu, in the eastern quarter of the “Parc naturel regional du Luberon.” We seemingly are so far out in the countryside that the birds have to stop and ask directions but soon we’ll be careening around the back roads as though we’ve always lived here. It’s lovely here on Linda’s mountain. We sit on the terrace in the warm sunshine nibbling cheese and swilling vin rose while looking over the green, green Luberon valley with “Cezanne’s” Montagne Ste-Victoire in the distance

The pool is warmed by the sun…but not much! While “monsieur” swims daily, I’m more content to sit under the shade of Linda’s new pool cabana. It also shares the wonderful view overlooking the green valley and red tile roofs. The soft salmon-colored stucco and vivid blue shutters of the homes in Provence, as well as the architectural designs are prescribed by the regional authorities; a wise decision for protecting the traditional charm.

Early morning in Provence! It’s very cool in the mornings but not too cool for sitting outside to munch on baguettes with jam, and sip a hot cafe creme while mesmerized by the view. Delicious!

At mid-day and even in the evening it still is warm enough to enjoy eating on the terrace, although we do have to share the space with very aggressive wasps. Maurice once told Linda that we have to be “one” with nature…or something like that. Well, I was “one” with a very large wasp today when he crawled inside my sandal and let me know who’s boss! The colorful Provencal tablecloths are sold in every open-air market throughout the region and it’s quite a quandary deciding which of the beautiful prints to buy. Because of the mistral winds which occur without warning, it’s necessary to secure the tablecloth with plastic clamps all around. (you’ll note a tiny blue clamp beside “monsieur’s” elbow)

Sideroads of Europe

More Valentine’s Day Windows

The Laduree Tea Shop always has fabulous windows. I wouldn’t mind having this bag or that candle if I had any thing at all pink in my place, which I don’t.

Aren’t these boxes sweet? I wonder if these are heart shaped macarons?

An interesting shop selling caviar. I don’t know if I’d want one of these for Valentine’s Day but I like the lid.

Aren’t these a pretty color? They are in an interesting Japanese tea shop. I’ve never been inside but these tempt me to try it.

La Madaleine church set in the middle of a circle of very interesting high end shops.

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A few more windows to get your heart ready for Valentine’s Day

This butterfly is in the window of a flower shop said to be the most expensive in Paris.

This is for sale at the little shop whose card you can see. She sells very unusual placemats, some in the shapes of flowers.

I’m not sure what these little figures are for but aren’t they darling?

Aren’t these sweet? I rather like those two rabbits.

Two hearts in the Bacarat window

Sideroads of Europe