Arles, Aix-en-Provence, and Avignon: These three towns form a triangle and are approximately an hour apart; we stayed in Arles and visited the other two which saved time and was saner than trying to find a hotel in each one.
We got to Arles at dusk, always a bad idea to arrive so late, but we stayed a little too long in Cassis, waiting for the rain to disperse. Arles itself is the smallest with a medieval wall that surrounds two adjacent sides of the city, and our hotel was in the center of that old town on Rue Suisse. So, we plunged in first turning one way, then another, then rounding a corner. Mind you, these are streets built for carts of the 1st century BC. Cars can barely get through, just slightly bigger than the driveway to our rental house in Bellagio (we left several scratches on the rear view mirrors on that car). But after inching along, we finally came to Hotel Muette—ours! We took out our bags, checked in and decided to get something to eat (it was already 9). About 2 blocks from us was the very old Roman arena; we got glimpses of it on our way in, and now we viewed it full-on. What an amazing structure and even moreso in the very black of the dimly lit city. My imagination began its journey.
The streets were cobblestone, and the thick stone walls held hints of shadows of pesants trying to get home after a long day’s work in the fields outside the city walls, greeting others in low voices that echoed, nevertheless, on the stone. I could almost smell candles burning as residents shuffled toward their homes to build a fire and get the evening meal, meager as it might be, readied for the family. The darkness pressed in behind us, and I could faintly smell bread baking. Back to reality. It was the pizza café and we were hungry. We sat down outside and enjoyed our dinner while viewing the lights on the arena. We made our way back to our hotel and threw ourselves in bed.
The next morning we immediately drove to Aix-en-Provence a little over an hour away. Our main objective was to visit the Picasso and Cezanne exhibition, found it, and was approached by a woman who said she had an extra ticket and offered it to us for half the price, 5 euros. So we bought it and bought a second one at full price from the ticket office, but when we tried to enter the exhibition, only Terry could get in with his full price ticket. Mine turned out to be a group ticket which was good for 11:15 to 12:15. It was 11:30, so I still could enter, but I had to do so through the “group gate” which had a group of tourists standing around it. No problem. I would just wait with them. So, I did. And waited and waited, and finally it looked like they were going to be let in. It was already noon, and their tour guide began speaking in German, explaining the art show. Meanwhile, I was getting nervous that she would go past 12:15 and I wouldn’t get allowed in. Plus, one of the German tourists came to me and said in German that I wasn’t one of their group and probably couldn’t get in with them. I summoned my best German and replied that my group was already inside and that the guard wouldn’t let me in with the individuals, that I had to enter with a group. That seemed to satisfy her. She touched her head and shook it, but I went in with the Germans and hurried away once inside. The paintings were splendid.
Back at our hotel in Arles, we found that the dark and dismal village streets had blossomed with a barrage of activity and colorful shops and restaurants. We made our way to dinner and planned tomorrow when we would take the whole day to explore Arles.
It was bright and sunny (the most important aspect of the day) when we skipped out of our hotel. We were surprised to find that our hotel was only 2 blocks from the town center, and we immediately found ourselves in Republic Square (named place Royale until the French Revolution), surrounded by the Hotel de Ville which we first thought was a hotel (one would think?). But we discovered that it is not a proper name but a name for the town hall in any city in France. (Wasn’t that the name of the villain in “1001 Dalmatians”?) On our left was St. Trophime Church which had maybe 1000 figures in many frescoes, all telling different stories of the Bible carved out of stone weathered by 900 years of rain, hail and snow, still formidable in its ancient state.
In the center of this area which had been the Roman Circus and had seen many chariot races, was my favorite piece, the obelisk. It was gorgeously carved with lions at its base and was about 40 feet tall, surrounded by a fountain. On one side of the fountain was a man playing an accordion with his little boy of about 5 dancing in front of him.
The Roman classical theater was our next stop. It had been built about 2,000 years ago and had 2 of its original 52 Corinthian columns still standing and was about half as high as it had been and is still used today. Even more shocking was finding out that the equally ancient Roman Ampitheatre which we saw in floodlights the first night we were there is also used at the present time. We visited that amazing structure next. It’s very worn by millions of feet shuffling up and down the stairs, but still maintains its structural integrity, evidently, although there were workers cleaning and propping up stones, getting ready for a big bullfight in October. We climbed the tower and looked over the city. It was lunchtime and we spotted our restaurant of two nights ago, so we stopped for a Mediterranean salad. This is a meal that I will try to recreate.
The afternoon was dedicated to Vincent Van Gogh, and we began by visiting the Van Gogh Foundation museum, followed by a Van Gogh walk which took us with a guide to the many places that the artist had frequented and painted. It was really informative because in each place was an easel with a picture of the painting he had done in that very spot. Even though he had been in Arles for less than 2 years only, his painting flourished and he produced over 200 paintings. Amazing! We finished the day by eating at the restaurant that he painted in his piece “Starry Night on the Rhone” and enjoyed being in such a famous place. There were some other sights we also visited, but they are too many to describe in detail.
The next day we packed up and headed to Avignon to visit on our way to the area of Mt. Ventoux, the large mountain climbed on bicycles by the Tour de France. Avignon is a city of 90,000, and as we approached, we could see the massive Palais des Papes (palace of the popes) and its walls surrounding the city. We found a park opposite the area of the palace so we could walk through the old city on our way because we knew we wouldn’t have time to survey Avignon the way we were able to do in Arles. The streets were again narrow and twisty, and we kept following in the general direction, every once in a while stopping to check our map. Oui, our bearings were correct as we passed one restaurant after the next, stomachs growling.
I was quite unprepared for the enormity of the palace. It was, instead, a fortress, and I couldn’t get it all in my camera. We bought our tickets and entered what must have been a virtual prison in its day. In the 1300’s the Vatican had bought the whole town of Avignon and moved the headquarters of the Catholic Church there because of the uneasiness with the “rogues” of Italy where it had been located. They built this enormous structure, surrounded it with 3 miles of unpenetrable walls and 39 towers, created a sumptuous “home” for the pope, and housed untold amounts of gold and silver in various forms of church paraphanalia, nuggets and coins. Whew! What luxury while the surrounding area of pesants lived in super primitive conditions.
We crawled over the palace as much as we could, including onto the top of the tower, and saw the Pont Saint-Benezet of nursery rhyme fame with a tune that everybody knows. We could have made our way to the famous bridge, but we were now running out of time, so we had to make our way back to the car through the old town, stopping long enough to have crepes that we took with us (one was lemon and sugar and the other ham and cheese—yum). We got back to our car and found a parking ticket! Yikes! We are happy to pay it, however, because we have parked in many places without paying—it’s only fair.
We got to Arles at dusk, always a bad idea to arrive so late, but we stayed a little too long in Cassis, waiting for the rain to disperse. Arles itself is the smallest with a medieval wall that surrounds two adjacent sides of the city, and our hotel was in the center of that old town on Rue Suisse. So, we plunged in first turning one way, then another, then rounding a corner. Mind you, these are streets built for carts of the 1st century BC. Cars can barely get through, just slightly bigger than the driveway to our rental house in Bellagio (we left several scratches on the rear view mirrors on that car). But after inching along, we finally came to Hotel Muette—ours! We took out our bags, checked in and decided to get something to eat (it was already 9). About 2 blocks from us was the very old Roman arena; we got glimpses of it on our way in, and now we viewed it full-on. What an amazing structure and even moreso in the very black of the dimly lit city. My imagination began its journey.
The streets were cobblestone, and the thick stone walls held hints of shadows of pesants trying to get home after a long day’s work in the fields outside the city walls, greeting others in low voices that echoed, nevertheless, on the stone. I could almost smell candles burning as residents shuffled toward their homes to build a fire and get the evening meal, meager as it might be, readied for the family. The darkness pressed in behind us, and I could faintly smell bread baking. Back to reality. It was the pizza café and we were hungry. We sat down outside and enjoyed our dinner while viewing the lights on the arena. We made our way back to our hotel and threw ourselves in bed.
The next morning we immediately drove to Aix-en-Provence a little over an hour away. Our main objective was to visit the Picasso and Cezanne exhibition, found it, and was approached by a woman who said she had an extra ticket and offered it to us for half the price, 5 euros. So we bought it and bought a second one at full price from the ticket office, but when we tried to enter the exhibition, only Terry could get in with his full price ticket. Mine turned out to be a group ticket which was good for 11:15 to 12:15. It was 11:30, so I still could enter, but I had to do so through the “group gate” which had a group of tourists standing around it. No problem. I would just wait with them. So, I did. And waited and waited, and finally it looked like they were going to be let in. It was already noon, and their tour guide began speaking in German, explaining the art show. Meanwhile, I was getting nervous that she would go past 12:15 and I wouldn’t get allowed in. Plus, one of the German tourists came to me and said in German that I wasn’t one of their group and probably couldn’t get in with them. I summoned my best German and replied that my group was already inside and that the guard wouldn’t let me in with the individuals, that I had to enter with a group. That seemed to satisfy her. She touched her head and shook it, but I went in with the Germans and hurried away once inside. The paintings were splendid.
Back at our hotel in Arles, we found that the dark and dismal village streets had blossomed with a barrage of activity and colorful shops and restaurants. We made our way to dinner and planned tomorrow when we would take the whole day to explore Arles.
It was bright and sunny (the most important aspect of the day) when we skipped out of our hotel. We were surprised to find that our hotel was only 2 blocks from the town center, and we immediately found ourselves in Republic Square (named place Royale until the French Revolution), surrounded by the Hotel de Ville which we first thought was a hotel (one would think?). But we discovered that it is not a proper name but a name for the town hall in any city in France. (Wasn’t that the name of the villain in “1001 Dalmatians”?) On our left was St. Trophime Church which had maybe 1000 figures in many frescoes, all telling different stories of the Bible carved out of stone weathered by 900 years of rain, hail and snow, still formidable in its ancient state.
In the center of this area which had been the Roman Circus and had seen many chariot races, was my favorite piece, the obelisk. It was gorgeously carved with lions at its base and was about 40 feet tall, surrounded by a fountain. On one side of the fountain was a man playing an accordion with his little boy of about 5 dancing in front of him.
The Roman classical theater was our next stop. It had been built about 2,000 years ago and had 2 of its original 52 Corinthian columns still standing and was about half as high as it had been and is still used today. Even more shocking was finding out that the equally ancient Roman Ampitheatre which we saw in floodlights the first night we were there is also used at the present time. We visited that amazing structure next. It’s very worn by millions of feet shuffling up and down the stairs, but still maintains its structural integrity, evidently, although there were workers cleaning and propping up stones, getting ready for a big bullfight in October. We climbed the tower and looked over the city. It was lunchtime and we spotted our restaurant of two nights ago, so we stopped for a Mediterranean salad. This is a meal that I will try to recreate.
The afternoon was dedicated to Vincent Van Gogh, and we began by visiting the Van Gogh Foundation museum, followed by a Van Gogh walk which took us with a guide to the many places that the artist had frequented and painted. It was really informative because in each place was an easel with a picture of the painting he had done in that very spot. Even though he had been in Arles for less than 2 years only, his painting flourished and he produced over 200 paintings. Amazing! We finished the day by eating at the restaurant that he painted in his piece “Starry Night on the Rhone” and enjoyed being in such a famous place. There were some other sights we also visited, but they are too many to describe in detail.
The next day we packed up and headed to Avignon to visit on our way to the area of Mt. Ventoux, the large mountain climbed on bicycles by the Tour de France. Avignon is a city of 90,000, and as we approached, we could see the massive Palais des Papes (palace of the popes) and its walls surrounding the city. We found a park opposite the area of the palace so we could walk through the old city on our way because we knew we wouldn’t have time to survey Avignon the way we were able to do in Arles. The streets were again narrow and twisty, and we kept following in the general direction, every once in a while stopping to check our map. Oui, our bearings were correct as we passed one restaurant after the next, stomachs growling.
I was quite unprepared for the enormity of the palace. It was, instead, a fortress, and I couldn’t get it all in my camera. We bought our tickets and entered what must have been a virtual prison in its day. In the 1300’s the Vatican had bought the whole town of Avignon and moved the headquarters of the Catholic Church there because of the uneasiness with the “rogues” of Italy where it had been located. They built this enormous structure, surrounded it with 3 miles of unpenetrable walls and 39 towers, created a sumptuous “home” for the pope, and housed untold amounts of gold and silver in various forms of church paraphanalia, nuggets and coins. Whew! What luxury while the surrounding area of pesants lived in super primitive conditions.
We crawled over the palace as much as we could, including onto the top of the tower, and saw the Pont Saint-Benezet of nursery rhyme fame with a tune that everybody knows. We could have made our way to the famous bridge, but we were now running out of time, so we had to make our way back to the car through the old town, stopping long enough to have crepes that we took with us (one was lemon and sugar and the other ham and cheese—yum). We got back to our car and found a parking ticket! Yikes! We are happy to pay it, however, because we have parked in many places without paying—it’s only fair.
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