Days 88-102: Provence, France

Apr 26 - May 10

After flying from Belgrade to Paris, I had a scenic journey on the high-speed (150 mph) TGV train down to Avignon in Provence, a bus to the town centre, and met up with Jess after three months traveling apart! Hooray! She met me with smiles, hugs, and a backpack full of food, a theme that would play heavily into our time in France, so much so that I’ve devoted an entire section at the end of this entry to it.


Provence is a region in the southeast corner of France, with the Mediterranean to the south and the Italian Alps to the east. It’s a vacation spot for French and foreigners alike, with warm weather, (mostly pebble) beaches, fine cuisine, and great cycling.

After a snack, we took the train straight to nearby Cavaillon where we would spend our first four nights. Within moments of arriving, we encountered our first stereotypically French event: an anti-GMO demonstration in front of the town hall, with demonstrators having locked themselves (with bicycle locks!) to the town hall gate. This confirmed my first stereotype about France: they are always demonstrating or striking for something. The second is that French workers have it better off than almost any other country, with a minimum wage of $12 per hour (that’s take-home pay, after taxes), and at least five weeks of vacation per year, not to mention the large number of public holidays (13, two more than the U.S). On top of this, business hours are quite short with long lunch closings -- admirable that they can get away with it, sometimes frustrating, but mostly just quaint and amusing. Almost everything is closed all day Sunday, and hours otherwise are very sporadic.


During our time in Cavaillon, we began catching up on our trips, hiked up the hill next to the town for great views, and went to the town’s weekly market, my first of many.


Cycle touring is famous in Provence, so we rented bikes for four days, and started with a day trip to Carpentras to check a boulangerie (bakery) and confiserie (confectioner, as opposed to a pâtisserie, or pastry shop; don't get them confused!) off Jess’ list. Yum, check, yum, check. In town, we visited the tourist information centre, which are well done and helpful throughout France, where I admired a raised-relief map of the region. I love raised-relief maps. That first day of cycling kicked my ass, as I wasn’t in good shape and certainly hadn’t ridden a bicycle in a while. But I was feeling strong by the end of our four days.


Our last three days of cycling were to, around, and back from Apt, another quaint small town. It rained heavily and was quite cold for most of our ride to Apt, but we were rewarded with perfect weather the next two days. The route was well-marked with friendly bicycle signs at (almost) every intersection:


We cycled through hilly terrain, past vineyards, farms, and quaint towns, with mountains in the distance. We stopped at town markets to buy food, and at scenic spots to eat that food. In case you didn't know, eating is my favorite part of cycle touring. More on that later.


One stop of particular note was the ochre mining hills by Rousillon, and the town colored with varying shades of yellow, orange, red, and sometimes even purple.


After returning our rental bikes, we took the train through Marseille to Nice, where we would spend our next five days. We had a layover in Marseille where I enjoyed exploring the awesome train station and views from outside:


Nice (pronounced like "peace") is quite a large city with a significant north African population, a busy promenade along pebble beach, a tram system, cool public art, many nearby day-trip destinations, and an extremely busy coastal airport.


We settled into a hotel in an immigrant neighborhood near the train station, which was a little seedy but had great character. On Saturday, we were visiting the somewhat ordinary Matisse Museum when the fire alarm went off and the building was evacuated. Since it was an hour and a half until closing time, they just decided to close then instead of reopening after the alarm had been cleared -- a classic French move. One upshot of the outing was taking in a Saturday afternoon festival going on nearby, as well as reading and napping in a peaceful rose garden peppered with old people and families walking.


The other upshot was that we learned of a Franciscan chapel in nearby Vence that Matisse had designed just before his death. We took a day trip there and enjoyed the simple but breathtaking architecture, stained glass, and black line paintings of St. Francis, Mary and Jesus, and the fourteen Stations of the Cross. A Franciscan nun gave an informative talk in French and then English.


On our way back to Nice from Vence, we stopped at Eze to hang out and swim at a quiet pebble beach which Jess had visited in February.


For a second day trip from Nice, we took the bus to nearby Monaco, the second smallest country in the world after the Vatican, and a constitutional monarchy run by the Grimaldi family since 1292. Regarded as a tax haven, it's brimming with wealth and glamour. We checked out the tourist scene at the changing of the guard, walked along the Monaco Gran Prix race track (which is just twisty roads in the city) which would take place in two weeks, gawked at incredible cars parked outside the Montenegro Casino, and even enjoyed a beautiful Japanese garden.


As if our time in Provence wasn't idyllic enough, we ended with two days at the olive farm where Jess WWOOFed at the beginning of her travels. A friendly and well-to-do English couple ran the place, and generously let us stay there for two nights. Here are some photos of the grounds, our quarters, and the kitchen:


There were two incredibly cute and energetic beagle puppies, who were quite a handful to take care of, much like human babies


We walked to the weekly market in town (Valbonne), cooked delicious meals with the farm's amazing olive oil and fresh eggs, and had a scenic drive in the VW convertible to the hilltop town of Gourdon. We ate easily the most delicious strawberries I've ever tasted and drank good wine from glass goblets. We were rich for two days.


Speaking of good food, did I mention we ate a lot of it in Provence? We did. But first, a brief note about money. Even though I knew it was coming, paying for things with euros in France was quite a pocket shock. We managed by staying in simple hotels and going to supermarkets, having the occasional nice meal out or splurge on market bounty. We managed just fine.

We had some yummy meals in our hotel room, including most of our supermarket-bought breakfasts. We would supplement cereal, fruit, yogurt, and juice with a daily dose of pain au chocolat, which filled the Balkan burek void.


Daily visits to boulangerie and pâtisserie:


Mixing in some north African delights:


The French are mad about food, and their supermarkets reflect this madness. Here's a cheese isle, chock full of cheese. There is also an enormous fresh cheese department at this supermarket:


This is what Jess had ready for my arrival my first day. She took good care of me and my stomach, as always.


We had some amazing picnics, feeding our insatiable hungers from cycling:


Jess is the master of turning a mundane meal into something special:


And the occasional nice meal out:


So many strawberries...