Released from the urban angst of London and Paris, our TGV chugs through Central France's endless array of crop rows, farm houses and a sparse populace. We somehow traverse six centuries to land in the ancient walled city of Avignon, our gateway to four eagerly awaited days in Provence.
The region's friendly climate and powerful Rhône river has produced fertile soil and resplendent landscapes, both of which make me immensely happy. The latter because I'm a sucker for spending hours outdoors in the summer; the former because Provence is a synonym for gastronomic triumph. This blog post is, basically, an ode to the joys of both.
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| At the Palais des Papes in Avignon |
It must be said that even without the day trips, Avignon is a cool place in its own right, a destination to which I'd most definitely return. A couple of days simply isn't enough to explore the interior of the 30-foot high ramparts that circle the city for over two and half miles, its serpentine lanes adding archaic flair. From our spacious apartment, just steps from both the city's entrance and its
coeur, we are well positioned to meander over the cobblestones as if we had lived there in the middle ages. I'll spare you the detailed history, but Avignon's origin dates back to about 600 BC. And for about 80 years in the 14th century, it was the seat of Roman Catholicism and the home of the Pope. Vatican Lite, if you will.
But again, Provence is a day tripper's paradise.
Over a couple of days time, and within an hour's drive in numerous directions through bucolic farm towns into the heart of the Vaucluse, we snake through roundabouts, mountainsides and nearly-purple lavender fields (alas, exactly one week too early) to visit wineries, chocolate factories and markets. No sausage or pastry shop is ignored, whisking my taste buds into a nonstop frenzy.
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| Sophia browsing at Carpentras |
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| The olive bar at Carpentras |
The market at Carpentras, about 45 minutes east of Avignon, is a perfect place to begin. Occupying a couple of city blocks and offering everything from wallets to soaps to shoes to all manner of culinary delicacies, this might be considered the "Walmart of Provence" (maybe minus the Trump followers and tube tops), an exquisite amalgam of anything one might ever need.
I may or may not leave puddles of saliva as I peruse longingly the tables offering olives, cured meats, nuts and bread. We stock up on snacks and produce, chat with the locals and return to our Airbnb palace sated on multiple fronts.
In Châteauneuf-du-Pape we pop into a couple of family-owned wineries and line up tastings on the fly. No lines, no pretense; just a few sips of delicious Rhône Valley varietals in a sparse yet elegant tasting room and a couple of bottles to go
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| Clos St. Michel tasting |
The "salted breakfast" in Gordes is precisely that (and, as expected, delicious), its shops pricey yet welcoming. As we return up the hill to our car, the Catholic church service lets out its well dressed attendees, and its bells echo with Sunday joy.
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| Café in Gordes |
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| Gordes street signs |
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| Overlooking the valley in Sault |
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| Lavender shop in Sault |
Sault's lavender shops make our noses hum. The community antique sale in its town center, calmly hawking technology, dolls and dinnerware thrust straight from the 70s gives us the idea that this sleepy town is unconcerned with appearances.
Both hillside hamlets are content to bask in the sensory ecstasy of their pastel storefronts and unpredictable alleyways, and the ease with which pedestrians, cyclists and compact cars alike negotiate the day with about as much stress as a field of blooming sunflowers.
And that, it seems, is Provence's essence. Ride in, browse, have a beverage and a bite in the sun, breathe.
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| Avignon apartment |
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| An Avignon avenue |
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| Clowning outside the Avignon walls |
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| Veeling Vine in Chateauneuf-du-Pape |
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| On t'aime aussi, Provence |
