Invitation to France 5 of 5
Chapter 14
Southwest France
GORGES OF THE TARN RIVER
On one trip we headed southwest from Lyon through St. Etienne, le Puy, and Mende and paid a visit to the Gorges of the Tarn River. The scenery was indeed beautiful and the little villages hanging on the sides of the hills, and nestled at the bottom of the valleys, provided a bonus for our effort. People were floating down the river in canoes and inflatable rafts, and a man in a truck was driving along the river to return them to the starting point.
South of the Tarn River there are low rock formations across the countryside, then farmland, then high hills (all in only fifteen to twenty minutes) and then more mountains and gorges. The charming little town of Pegairolles (the sign said) was far below, but too small to even be on our map. We also saw miles of vineyards, but for some reason they were neither as neat nor as green as in other parts of France.
%TOULOUSE
Toulouse is called the “Pink City” because of the color of the brick used for most of the buildings in the downtown area. The closest stone quarries were fifty miles away, so the problem was solved by using distinctive colored clay from the Garonne River, for brick making. The wide streets and beautiful gardens and parks look different from the rest of France. We understand Toulouse gets relatively few American tourists; it certainly deserved more time than we spent in our two visits.
From a balloon ride by Clément Ader in 1870, to the flight of the supersonic Anglo-French Concorde by André Turcat in March 1969, and the manufacture of the European AirBus today, Toulouse has always been the center of the aircraft industry for France.
Vineyards in the nearby countryside were sparse and have scraggly looking grape vines, again not at all like the vineyards in some other parts of France. Was it a bad year, or isn’t this a good area for grapes? In this part of France we also noticed that the stakes used to hold up the grape vines, and in fact, the posts used for electric and telephone wires in many places, were made of cement or metal. Can’t say we noticed there was a shortage of trees, perhaps they just preferred cement and metal.
Barges and pleasure boats can travel from Toulouse, either east to the Mediterranean Sea or west to the Atlantic Ocean. The Canal du Midi was dug, starting as early as 1680, to connect the east and west coasts of France, eliminating the need to sail around the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal) to get from Narbonne to Bordeaux. We were here in the right season, and saw miles of sunflower fields along the canal. Much of the way, the road is nearby and we have watched barges and pleasure boats being “locked” up and “locked” down, as they travel in this beautiful area.
We found it interesting to see the telephone used at one canal station looked similar, but much older than the hand-cranked, wall-mounted phone at Jim’s home on the farm, 65 years ago. The canal operator had to shout very loudly as he announced to the next lock station, that a couple of boats were on the way.
%LOURDES
In 1858, a fourteen-year-old girl, now known as Bernadette, saw the Virgin Mary at the grotto, and at her direction Bernadette uncovered a spring. Millions of people visit here each year, and miraculous cures are attributed to the waters of this spring.
The large two-level basilica is built into the base of a hill, with gardens and footpaths on the hillside above. We understood that each level is considered a basilica, and masses were scheduled in both throughout the day, and in many languages in other chapels on adjacent streets. Hundreds of wheelchairs and stretcher-carts are parked in sheds next to the hospital near the basilica. They are used by the unbelievable number of sick and disabled, who come to Lourdes for healing.
Past the basilica we came to the famous “la Grotte des Apparitions.” It is a small shallow cave with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and with crutches hanging from its roof near the entrance. Near the grotto, water is available from twenty water taps for tourists to drink, and to fill bottles to take home. Tubs are available in the gray marble bathhouse where the pilgrims may bathe in water from the spring. (We remember “holy water” available near Virgin Mary’s “last home” on the mountain near Selçuk, above the ruin of the city of Ephesus in Turkey. Our Moslem taxi driver attributed the miraculous cure of his war wound to those waters.)
Several hundred people had gathered on the far side of the river for a ceremony the first morning we were in Lourdes. When the meeting was adjourned, the procession marched along the river and then crossed the bridge in the direction of the basilica. These people were not disabled, and we saw no one in need of crutches, the wheelchairs or the carts. Someone said this ceremony was to celebrate a new church that was to be built at that spot. Well, we travel a lot, but don’t always remember everything we should. We don’t remember if a new church was on that spot or not, the next time we were in Lourdes.
Luckily we found a parking place in downtown Lourdes, then walked through the town. The area is crowded with hotels, restaurants and tourist shops filled to overflowing onto the sidewalk, some with schlocky tourist gadgets.
The setting of the town and the basilica is exceptionally beautiful. It would have been nice to see all this without the rain, but it rained both years we visited Lourdes. The castle on a hill in the center of town was closed for lunch and nap time just when we were ready to visit, and the crowds of people we had seen on the streets a few minutes earlier had disappeared. We can’t imagine there are enough restaurants to hold (hide) them all. It would have been nice to use the lunch hour as a time to shop and further explore, but like small towns in much of Europe, except for restaurants, most everything in Lourdes closed down for an hour or two at mid-day.
%TOURNAY
An interesting farmer’s fair was underway in Tournay. We enjoyed the exhibits, and watched while they judged the animals; sheep, calves, cows, bulls, and horses. As a souvenir, we wanted to buy a ribbon like the ones being awarded for the prize animals. After they counted and determined there were just enough ribbons for all the exhibits, they laughingly told us the only way we could get a blue-ribbon was to bring our own prize-winning animal to next year’s fair.
%MONTREJEAN
Near Montréjean we saw a roadside store with a large outdoor display of copper and brass pots, bells, etc. The lady assured us that the small bronze bowl we bought was unique, but since then we have seen that same bowl with the exact design a dozen times. The quality was perhaps not as good, but the price was as much as 90% less. Sure wish this was the worst business decision we ever made.
%ST. LAZIR
In the old Roman city of St. Lazir our plan was to see the castle and cathedral high on a hill. However, after two or three tight switch back curves we found ourselves facing an archway much too small for the RV to drive through, and the steep road was about a foot wider than the camper was long. The wall of the castle was on one side of the road, and on the other side, a long drop-off past a foot-high stone wall. We backed and turned several times, and finally managed to get turned around. Sometime we may have to dismantle the RV or call a helicopter to lift us out of a tight spot.
%FOIX
A three-towered castle perched on a huge rock above the town of Foix offers a spectacular sight. The Pyrénées Mountains to the south are especially scenic with beautiful naturally terraced waterfalls, snow-capped mountains, and many snow sheds over the highway as we drove higher. The tiny country of Andorra (hidden in the Pyrénées) is a great shopping place for people from France and Spain, and on this holiday evening, a long line of cars filled with returning shoppers, was stopped at the border between Andorra and France, waiting for clearance by the customs’ officers.
%BOURG - MADAME
Two-and-a-half miles inside the French border, near Bourg-Madame, a twelve-square-mile piece of Spain is surrounded by France. When they drew up the Treaty of the Pyrénées in 1659 someone forgot to write down the name of the town of Llivia, so today this village of less than 1,000 people still belongs to Spain. Now why didn’t we take the time to investigate that village while we were nearby. There’s always next time.
%CARCASSONNE
Our trip from the Spanish border to Carcassonne was a very interesting, scenic, rough, tiresome, narrow, twisty, steep up-and-down drive on a trail next to a small stream, for many of the 100 miles through the mountains.
The old city of Carcassonne is called “La Cité” and is an overpowering specimen of military architecture. This incredible city was first mentioned in the records of Rome in the year 20 BC, and the most recent part of La Cité is 600 years old. The two walls (about 50 yards apart) and fifty-two towers are floodlit every night of the year — and what a sight to behold. France’s Bastille Day, July 14, is celebrated with an enormous fireworks display deployed to appear as if the whole city were on fire. Another of the unbelievable cities of France. To walk the floodlit ramparts of old Carcassonne is truly a thrill of a lifetime.
The Basilica Saint-Nazaire, inside the Carcassonne walls, was started about the year 1000, and is partly Gothic and partly Romanesque. La Cité is very much an active (though medieval) town with banks, stores, homes, schools, restaurants and hotels for tourists and residents alike. It’s hard to imagine, but the “new” town of Carcassonne, on the other side of the river, was laid out in the year 1260.
One year, after her summer job in Germany was finished, our daughter Linda and her friend Margit traveled with us for two weeks. As we were walking through the gate of floodlit Carcassonne that night, Jim noticed the next song in the street musician’s songbook was the hymn, “Amazing Grace.” At the end of Jim’s solo with flute accompaniment, and with thunderous applause from the tourists who must have come especially for this performance, Linda tipped the flute player an extra ten francs, and reminded Jim the applause came after — because? — he had stopped singing.
On our third visit we arrived in mid-afternoon, found a parking place, rested awhile, then fixed dinner right next to Carcassonne’s wall. Imagine what that means. Here we are, little ‘ol friendly travelers, parked right next to this ancient medieval wall, built to keep out not so friendly travelers. At sunset we walked and walked through this most fascinating city, then drove the mile or so down the hill to the very nice, brand new campsite.
French TV was filming a special about Joan ‘d Arc. Since Joan had never been to Carcassonne, they built a new castle entrance out of plywood and paper, so no one would recognize where the picture was being made. Special platforms were used to attack the wall. Fires were started on the platforms, they filmed for a few minutes, then quickly put the fire out so they could do it again a few minutes later.
By July 1995 we had visited this fascinating city four times, and this time it was really crowded. As we have found in so many of the well-known tourist sites, crowds of tourists are about to overwhelm the very thing they come to see. It will soon be said that Carcassonne is so crowded, no one goes there any more.
Narrow tractor-pulled, multi-car tourist trains deliver tourists to and from parking lots, and provide tours of La Cité. Since tourists must have a place to park at Carcassonne, as at many other places they take advantage of that, and charge a high price for parking. Since we were familiar with the city, we parked along the street at the bottom of a long staircase that leads to Porte d’Aude, on the opposite side of the city from Porte Narbonnaise, the main entrance. Money saver or not, this is an exceptional way to arrive at Carcassonne.
Inside the castle courtyard they had set up bleachers and a stage for a presentation, or a concert of some kind. As a result, tourists were not permitted in that area, and from a distance the view of the castle ground was blocked during the day. In addition, several of the tourist stores had large signs advertising various products, and several had big balloons advertising camera film for sale.
Jim felt this was not right, and went to the Tourist Office and two other government offices nearby, to complain that people who have traveled a long distance were being denied access to parts of this beautiful, medieval city. He said that since the concert was held at night, the audience couldn’t see the Castle during the performance anyway, so the concert should be held in the parking lot or a nearby field, and not deface the Castle grounds. He also insisted the large signs and balloons should be restricted so they would not block the view up and down city streets. Each time Jim started his tirade the people thought he was nuts, but by the end of his spiel, they all agreed, and promised to pass on his complaint and advice. Most likely we’ll never know if they followed that advice.
Each time we visited Carcassonne, in the evening we returned to admire, and take pictures of the floodlit city walls. On the main street through town, just below la Cité, a Mobil gas station closes early in the evening and provides a large parking space, with an excellent view of the walled city on the hill. Maybe the best view is from the old bridge over the Aude River, between the old la Cité and “new” Carcassonne. A picture is worth a thousand words, a visit is worth a thousand pictures, the video is priceless. We have seen at least a 1,000 walled towns and cities in Europe, and if Carcassonne and Dubrovnik, (former) Yugoslavia aren’t the best two, they are at least two of the very best.
After he heard that we had visited this historic city, Jim’s Uncle Virgil quoted a few lines of the following poem in a letter to us. The next time we visited Carcassonne Jim asked the lady in the Syndicat d’Initiative about the poem, and although it was temporarily out of stock, she later graciously mailed two copies to our home. This poem had probably been passed from one generation to another by the local troubadour, and although the first version listed here is the “official” one sent to us by the Syndicat d’Initiative (and discovered in our local library), we prefer the version from Uncle Virgil (even though we can’t find it in the library). Here is the first portion of each version.
Carcassonne,
by Gustave Nadaud
(from the Syndicat d’Initiative)
I’m growing old, I’ve sixty years;
I’ve labored all my life in vain.
In all that time of hopes and fears,
I’ve failed my dearest wish to gain.
I see full well that here below
Bliss unalloyed there is for none;
My prayer would else fulfilment know
Never have I seen Carcassonne!
Carcassonne
by Gustave Nadaud
(from Uncle Virgil)
How old I am! I’m eighty years!
I’ve worked both hard and long,
Yet patient as my life has been
My dearest sight I have not seen.
It seems almost a wrong;
A dream I had when life was new
Alas our dreams! They come not true;
I thought to see fair Carcassonne,
That lovely city Carcassonne.
It seems a shame to have been so near, but yet so far, from beautiful Carcassonne. We doubt the Golden Arches we saw in new Carcassonne, were available for restroom duty when Mr. Nadaud was there. A few miles west of Carcassonne Jim found a rose-wood cane, trimmed in silver, to add to his collection.
%MONTPELLIER
Montpellier was a port on the Camargue canal by the 1000s, when spice merchants found out about some medicinal plants grown in this area. As a result, the first medical school in Europe was founded here, and it achieved the status of a university by 1289. Another reference says the first medical school in Europe was founded in the 1000s at the University of Salerno in Italy. That disagreement between references, and a thousand more, shouldn’t spoil anyone’s vacation.
Two different years we have driven here and there through Montpellier, but we still haven’t found a parking place. One year, after driving down a couple of streets that were almost too narrow for the RV, we followed a big yellow truck, hoping he was going somewhere other than home, and he was. We knew if he fit, we would fit.
The city appears to be very interesting, and it would be well worth our time to park and walk and look, but we either have no time this time, or we are saving Montpellier for next time. Most likely both are at least partially true.
%BEZIERS
Between Narbonne and Montpellier, the town of Béziers is more impressive when viewed from across the river, than what we saw once we were inside the town. It reminded us of Auxerre, and many others, in that respect. The arched stone bridge with flowers in the foreground, buildings at the riverside, the cathedral high on the hill, all combine to make another of those postcard pictures.
It was a religious holiday when we visited the first time, everything was closed for the day, but inside the town loudspeakers on high poles or attached to buildings were blaring the most awful music. When we hear the so-called music that is often played too loud, on the streets and in some supermarkets in France, we are embarrassed to think that much of that “noise” was exported from the US.
At one place there’s a several block-long park, with tables and chairs in a continuous stream at the edge of the street. The funny thing is, the restaurants and bars are on the other side of this very, very busy street. Waiters with glasses and bottles on a small tray, and customers with burgers and fries, were scurrying among the vehicles as they went from bars and restaurants (one with Golden Arches), to table and chair.
Chapter 15
Provence
ROMAN RUINS
If we draw a fifty-mile square on a map, with Marseille in the southeast corner, we have outlined an area just brim full of the remains of Roman civilization dating from about 125 BC to the fall of the Empire in 476 AD. There are at least twenty-three old cities and interesting sightseeing spots in this area, and many of the Roman ruins are better preserved than those in other parts of the old Roman Empire.
The time scale of these ancient times must be kept in perspective: The Romans were in this part of what is now France for 600 years; Columbus discovered America about 500 years ago; and just a few years ago we celebrated the 200th birthday of the United States.
%AIGUES - MORTES
The name denotes “Dead or Still Waters,” but the town of Aigues-Mortes is phenomenal. This is the place where Louis IX gathered his armies in 1248 and 1270 for the Crusades to the Holy Land. Aigues-Mortes is still almost completely sheltered by the walls that were begun in 1272. In the Tour de la Méche (Wick Tower), a fire was kept lit at all times to be available to light cannon fuses if needed to repel a surprise attack. The idea of a “ready” defense is not new. Taxpayers have been paying for their version of the stealth fighter plane and the B-2 bomber for thousands of years.
The population of Aigues-Mortes is now about one-third of what it once was. Five miles of marshes and salt flats lie between here and the sea as the result of changing movement of the tides and the outflow from the Rhône River. The rectangular city is small, we can walk from one side to the other in 10 minutes. The wall has four straight sides, and there are fifteen towers to guard the nine gates. This area is a swamp from here to the sea, the town and the area nearby is flat.
In the evening at the town square, restaurant tables and chairs filled every possible space, and what had been a busy pedestrian street during the day, was crammed full of tables and chairs at night. The musicians in the middle of the square, could be heard by all the patrons of the dozen restaurants. The sun sets so late in this part of the world, that it was after 10:00 PM before it was dark enough to take night-time video of the floodlit walls. Just phenomenal.
One year, before ATM machines, we stopped at a bank in an ancient stone building inside Aigues-Morte’s wall, and presented our BankAmericard. Within two minutes, by the clock, we had our money. That’s quicker than in California, where the BankAmericard (now Visa) was invented.
On our third visit we spent the night with other RVs and trailers in the parking lot (cost $3), just outside the wall. Just imagine looking out the “bedroom” window, and seeing floodlit 800 year old walls, walls that protected members of the Seventh and Eighth Crusade as they set out to liberate Jerusalem, all those years ago. Well, we were sure impressed, and we didn’t see any Hilton Hotel or Holiday Inn with that view, either.
%NIMES
The Maison Carrée was built in Nîmes in about 100 BC, and is about the best-preserved really old Roman home we have found. It was built by the Romans, but it looks a lot like the Greek temples we have seen. While it is the home for the Museum of Antiquities, we would expect the building is older than many of its contents. As mentioned earlier, Napoléon ordered the façade of the Madeleine church in Paris to be a copy of Maison Carrée. The Nîmes City Gate from BC times still exists, and in the 1700s an army engineer created the Garden of the Fountains. The Temple of Diana is nearby, and a great octagonal tower overlooks it from the hill above.
It’s interesting to note that while we were parked next to an old house that was part of an Empire created by the Romans, we were just down the street from a store that is part of an Empire created by a Mouse. Mickey, that is. A Disney Store is just a few blocks from the Maison Carrée. We have visited several Disney Stores in other European countries and find their employees are well trained to provide US level and style of service. “The customer is always right,” is a slogan often unknown in European markets. Across the street from the Disney store is a new shopping mall that includes a beautiful two-story McDonald’s, one that is unmatched by any we have seen in the USA.
A short walk down Boulevard Victor Hugo, past the Baskin-Robbins ice cream store, brought us to the amphitheater that was built in 50 AD. The Romans are known to have built seventy amphitheaters, and this one ranks about twentieth in size. It was designed with many internal stairways so the 20,000 spectators could leave the stadium in about five minutes, or whatever they called that span of time.
At one time the amphitheater was turned into a fortress surrounded by a moat, and at another time it became a walled village of 2,000 poverty-stricken people, complete with houses and a chapel built in the center of the arena. When they renovated the amphitheater in the 1800s, a twenty-five foot layer of rubble had to be removed.
Originally the amphitheater at Nîmes was a waterproof arena, and when it was filled with water, they could stage aquatic spectacles. Don’t think that style of use is gone forever. One time when we were in Nîmes the refrigeration truck from “Holiday on Ice” was busily making ice on the floor of the arena, preparing for a modern ice spectacular. What a contrast. Just imagine something as modern as “Holiday on Ice” in this beautiful 2,000 year old amphitheater. One time when we were here we saw an announcement for a religious meeting to be held in the amphitheater the following week. The poster invited the Christians, but didn’t say a word about the lions.
Isn’t it interesting to think that a hundred generations of “Nîmois” were born, raised, and died, with this beautiful old amphitheater always there, every day of their lives, right in the heart of town.
Jim usually carries a walking stick (it may well be called a cane one of these years), but just outside this Arena, it became a defensive device. Three Gypsies were panhandling, they would not take “no” for an answer, and finally grabbed his camera case. It took only a few steps in their direction and a threat of using the stick for them to leave, but is the only time in nearly a thousand days in Europe that we have been even slightly threatened. Well, come to think of it, one evening in Prague … , but that’s a story for another time.
PONT DU GARD
Each time we have visited the Pont du Gard (Bridge over the Gard River), ten or twelve miles northeast of Nîmes, the weather has been sparkling clear, but rain or shine, it’s an awe-inspiring structure. In 19 BC Marcus Agrippa, a Roman General, constructed this aqueduct to bring water into Nîmes. The three-story Pont du Gard is the bridge that carried the aqueduct and 44,000,000 gallons of fresh water each day, over the 130 foot deep ravine of the River Gard. We have walked and driven across the roadway on the first level, and we have enjoyed a thrilling promenade across the ravine by walking inside the four-foot-wide by six-foot-high water channel, above the third level of arches.
The roadway bridge was built only about 200 years ago, but it is well matched in style and construction with the 2,000 year old section. The stones directly under the water channel, and the stones under the bridge for the roadway are slightly different in color, and the bridge stones have less wind erosion. The aqueduct was built without mortar between the stones (some weighted six tons), and we know engineering codes wouldn’t permit that these days. Of course it’s most likely that structures built under our engineering codes won’t last 2,000 years, either.
The first times we were here we were able to drive across the bridge with no problem, but on our fourth visit there were crowds of people, and police had blocked access to the road. In the afternoon, and again in the evening, we climbed to the top of the bridge and enjoyed the glow of sunset on the old stone structure. Then we paid $3 to spend the night in the nearby parking lot with many other RVs. The next morning, with few people around, the police and road blocks were gone, and we again drove across the Pont du Gard. Why is that so exciting, since we’ve done it a couple of times in the past? Well, who else do you know who has done it even once?
In 1882 Henry James, the American novelist, wrote “A Little Tour in France.” About Pont du Gard, he wrote, “The preservation of the thing is extraordinary, nothing has crumbled or collapsed, every feature remains, and the huge blocks of stone, … pile themselves, without mortar or cement, as evenly as the day they were laid together. All this to carry the water of a couple of springs to a little provincial city.” Over a hundred years later, that’s all still true.
When we visit a museum, many of the items on display seem to be there just because they are old. Not because they are beautiful or useful or even particularly decorative, but just old. When we see city walls and gates, the Pont du Gard, the amphitheaters, the old theaters, or the commemorative arches, we see beautiful, useful, real works of art. Perhaps this explains why we are more interested in seeing where people live(d) and work(ed), now and in the past, than just to see items someone chose to put in a museum.
%ORANGE
At one time Orange, then named Arausio, had a population of 80,000, but after all those centuries, there are now only about 25,000 residents. The Romans arrived in about 100 BC, and as usual, constructed all kinds of stone buildings and monuments. By the 1200s the town was “owned” by a prince from the Netherlands, and by the early 1600s they had used stones from the Roman monuments to build a castle and a wall around the city. Some years later after an attack by French forces, the Commemorative Arch and the Roman Theatre were about the only “usable” structures that remained.
Some excavated foundations and the remains of a few old buildings still remain in Orange, but many Roman buildings were used as quarries and their stone used to construct municipal buildings, private homes, and the fortifications mentioned above. It shouldn’t be necessary to tear down existing usable buildings to find old foundations, as they did next to the Theatre in Orange back in the 1930s — especially when there are so many hundreds of “ruins” of all kinds already excavated.
The theater is known as the best preserved Roman Theater in existence, and is still in use today. The stage wall is 338 feet long and 118 feet high, and Louis XIV pronounced it “… the finest wall in the kingdom.” The seats are built into a hill and in Roman times they were assigned to the various classes of people, from servants to nobility. To protect the audience from the weather, an awning could be extended over the stage and most of the seats. This was a feature at the Coliseum in Rome, but they still can’t do that at the Hollywood Bowl. We’ll bet the awning covered the seats for the wealthy, rather than the seats for the servants.
The Commemorative Arch in Orange, built between 21 and 26 AD, is well preserved, it’s the third largest still around, and is the best preserved arch from Roman days. A traffic circle has changed the traffic pattern, from through, to around the arch, reducing pollution damage, and physical damage that would result from the rumble and vibration of heavy traffic.
%CARPENTRAS
The town of Carpentras has replaced part of the old ramparts with a series of boulevards, but portions of the wall and gates remain. The expected cathedral, arch, and several museums await the visitor.
%AVIGNON
Avignon, city of popes and of the nursery rhyme, is surrounded by battlemented walls with machicolated towers. (Projecting gallery at the top of a castle wall, with openings in the floor through which stones and boiling liquids could be dropped on attackers.) The magnificent city wall is one of the longest continuous ancient walls still standing, and although it has been baking in the sun for centuries it is still the color of under-done-pie-crust. In the late 1200s, Pope Clément V, a Frenchman, got tired of all the local wars in Italy so moved to the countryside near here. In 1309, Pope John XXII moved into Avignon, and the popes were here until they moved back to Rome in 1377. An alternate or anti-pope, was here until 1403, and the Palace of the Popes is the reminder of 100 years as the papal seat.
The palace enclave covers over two-and-a-half acres. It is actually two fortresses, one built by Pope Benedict XII and the other by Pope Clément VI. The enclave is situated high on a rock base, and was constructed to produce an impression of massive impregnability. They succeeded. But that doesn’t mean modern day technology hasn’t been introduced to Avignon. A Canadian we met in Rocamadour one year was a specialist in international telephone networks. He had just attended an international telecommunications conference, held in the Pope’s Palace in this medieval city.
If you studied French in school, maybe you learned to sing the song, “Sur le pont d’A-vi-gnon, L’on y dan-se, l’on y dan-se, Sur le pont d’A-vi-gnon, L’on y dan-se, tout en rond.” No, we don’t know exactly what that means, it’s copied from the guide book, but it is something about little boys and girls dancing on the bridge. Other literature states the dancing was done “sous le pont,” beneath the narrow bridge. When it was built in 1190, the St.-Bénézet Bridge required twenty-two arches (3000 feet) to span the river by way of the island, but after centuries of floods and storms, only four arches remain. That’s just enough to make a pretty picture with the Palace of the Popes high on the rock above the remains of the bridge. A short way off shore, the two-story Chapel St.-Nicolas rests on one of the bridge piles.
Avignon’s Municipal Campsite is on the island in the middle of the Rhône River, and we have parked our RV there three different years (another year we spent just a few hours in Avignon). Be sure to visit the island and enjoy the panorama, especially at night. The spectacle as seen from the island, with the old bridge, the city wall, and the Palace illuminated by floodlights we think might just be one of the more spectacular sights of a vacation trip.
At Avignon, as in Béziers and Auxerre, the view from across the river is magnificent, more impressive than the view of the streets and buildings inside the wall. The Palace of the Popes sits high on a hill overlooking the wall, the river, the city, the Pont St.-Bénézet, and the countryside. Just below the Palace, on the site of the old Roman forum and beneath huge plane trees, the vast Place de l’Horloge is filled with tables and chairs served by several festive restaurants and cafés.
The Palace was damaged and looted during the French Revolution, and from 1810 the building served as an army barracks or a prison. Inside the wall there are museums to be visited, and the sparsely furnished Palace is open for tours. Many items of interest were damaged, destroyed, and sold before the Palace was rescued by the city government early in the last century.
On our first visit, to make sure the RV would fit, we followed a large city bus through a gate and into the narrow city streets of Avignon. For some reason we turned when the bus didn’t, and found ourselves in narrow dead-end streets with cars parked half on the sidewalks. Finally we found our way out, but since then we park outside and walk when we visit inside the walled city.
One year we saw some young men applying political posters for someone on the political right, over posters for someone on the political left. Jim kidded them about dirty political tricks, but he encouraged them to go on, amidst much laughter. Oh, by the way, we weren’t too far from civilization; the McDonald’s and the Häagen-Dazs store are just across from each other on the main street, just a couple of blocks from the Palace of the Popes.
%VILLENEUVE - LES - AVIGNON
Across the river is Villeneuve-lès-Avignon, or “new town by Avignon.” How new? Try 1271 AD new. When the Cardinals of the Catholic Church came to visit the Palace of the Popes, they thought they should have a nice place to live so they built many residences, and stayed in the area long after the pope went back to Rome.
In the 1300s Charles V, Philip the Fair, and John the Good (and their PR men) built the St.-André Fort on the hill overlooking the river and the Palace of the Popes. The entrance to the fort is between giant twin round towers, and a Benedictine monastery and a Romanesque chapel are surrounded by the crenelated (indented, notched) wall of pale gold stone. One year as we approached the gate we misunderstood the signs and drove right into the fort. For a moment we expected a hail storm of spears and arrows, but maybe they weren’t prepared for a surprise attack by an RV equipped invading force. Surprisingly, although we received alarmed looks from some official looking people, no one complained and no one fired a cannon ball as we drove to the end of the street, turned around, drove down the hill and left the fort.
At the base of the hill, and in a position to defend the Palace of the Popes, is the Philippe-le-Bel Tower. The view from the top of the tower includes the bridge, the walled city of Avignon, the Palace, the fort, and mountains in the distance.
%ST. REMY - DE - PROVENCE
Just a few miles southeast of Avignon sits the town of St. Rémy-de-Provence. In 1983, in a flea-market in St. Rémy’s marketplace, we bought a large brass pot that still serves us well as a flower pot. This is the fruit-and-vegetable growing area of France, but the main tourist sights are the old Roman monuments, called “Les Antiques,” in the middle of a field just south of town. We find amazing the amount of care and work that was spent on design, and on the detail carving of the artwork, all those years ago — the underside of the arch is carved in intricate detail. The original town was built about 500 BC, the Arch and Mausoleum were built in the early AD’s, and the whole town was destroyed in about 200 AD.
%FOUILLE DE GLANUM
Across the road is the excavation of the ancient town of Glanum, begun in 1921. The excavations began then, not the town. The Phoeceans were here in 600 BC, the Teutons in 102 BC, the Romans in 49 BC, the Barbarians invaded in 200 AD, and the Californians were here in 1980, 1983, 1988 and 1995.
As they uncovered level after level of buildings, artifacts, coins and walls, they found signs of three periods of occupation (the Gauls, the Greeks, and the Romans). By the time they are done, if they ever bother to finish excavating the whole thing, the town is expected to be larger than Pompeii in Italy. The first three times we were here the excavation was closed, but maybe that was just because we just happened to be there at noon time. The fourth visit, it was open, and we were successful.
%LES BAUX
About five miles from St. Rémy is the unimaginable little village named Les Baux. It is nearly hidden on top of a bare rock spur, a couple of hundred yards wide and a half mile long. The first time we were in this area, we drove past it twice, before we finally found the entrance. There are two parts to Les Baux — the Inhabited Village with houses, churches, and shops, and the Deserted Village where the castle and other buildings stood until the 1600s.
We have read guide books, tour books, advertisements, tourist brochures, history books and whatever — no one has really described Les Baux, and try as we might, we can’t either: Narrow stone streets, shops that extend into caves in the rock, outdoor fruit markets, restaurants, hotels, and St. Vincent’s Church, all built of wheat colored stone. Unforgettable.
In the Deserted Village we walked around, over, and to the top of ruins from time gone by. The Paravelle Tower is a good place from which to view the countryside. The mineral “bauxite” (the commercial source of aluminum), was discovered and named here in 1822, and a mine is still active.
In the 1200s Les Baux was famous as a “court of love,” where passionate verses praised ladies of noble birth. The prize for the best verse was a kiss and a peacock’s feather. At least that’s the only prize they mention.
One year the starter on our Renault vehicle quit working while parked near the hotels in Fontaine Valley, just below Les Baux, right at lunch time. We asked the local Gendarme for help, and he would have helped just as soon as his lunch hour(s) was over. But we got it started before he was scheduled to return to work, and managed to get to Arles for repairs.
%ARLES
Since about 600 BC, Arles’ fortunes have depended on its success as a port and a marketplace on the Rhône River. Arles was on the Roman Road from Italy to Spain, with a bridge over the river beginning in 400 BC. Water was brought to the city from forty-seven miles away, with metered water distribution to private homes. Two thousand years ago the public lavatories were built of white marble, and were flushed with running water, into a sewer pipe 12 feet in diameter. As we drove between Arles and Les Baux, we followed the sign that directed us to route D82 and the ruins of the Roman Aqueduct that supplied water to Arles, all those years ago.
For a thousand years Arles was an important political and commercial center for the Gaul’s, the Greeks, and then the Romans. The walls, castles, fortifications, and the amphitheater, theatre, forum, and the baths were built by whoever was in power at the time, and maybe anyone else who stopped by.
The Arles Amphitheater is slightly larger and a few years “newer” than the one in Nîmes, but both were designed by the architect, T. Crispius Reburrus. At one time there were seats for 25,000 people with many exits, so the crowd could enter or leave rapidly. As in Nîmes, the Arles Amphitheater at one time served as a fortified village. The seating area and the exterior arches served as the protective wall, and houses were built on the seats and on the arena floor.
Two levels of arches surround the outside of the arena. Some spectator seats are still on the original stone terraces, simple wooden bleachers provide the remainder. During one trip there were advertisements for a concert by the Glenn Miller Orchestra, to be held in this ancient arena a few days later.
Bull fights (bloodless we were told), and other types of entertainment are still held in the arena. In Roman times when the gladiators fought, the arena level would be brought up to the level of the seats so the people in front could have a better view. A high wall protected the spectators when wild animals were doing their thing.
We were careful to notice how these amphitheaters were built: The area under the arches, the steps to the seating area, then the steps up to the higher seats. They still build arenas exactly like that today, no change at all — well maybe the Coke dispensers, and the peanut and hot dog vendors are a little different.
Just inside the entrance of the Amphitheater at Arles, this sign appears:
Principaux Amphithéâtres du Monde Romain
POUZZOLES * 191 X 145 m
LE COLISEE * 188 X 156 m
CAPOUE 170 X 140 m
MILAN #155 X 125 m
AUTUN 154 X 130 m
VERONE *153 X 123 m
EL DJEM 148 X 122 m
TARRAGONE 148 X 119 m
LYON #140 X 117 m
POITIERS #138 X 115 m
LIMOGES #137 X 113 m
ARLES *136 X 107 m
POMPEI *135 X 104 m
BORDEAUX #133 X 111 m
NIMES *133 X 101 m
LUTECE 131 X 97 m
SAINTES 126 X 102 m
CHERCHE 120 X 70 m
FREJUS *114 X 82 m
LAMBESE 104 X 94 m
CIMIEZ 66 x 56 m
Wonder why they listed just twenty-one, rather than all seventy amphitheaters that were built? We have been to more than a dozen arenas in four countries, including at least seven(*) of the above. And we have stopped in five(#) towns where for a variety of reasons, we didn’t see the amphitheater. Perhaps the tourist literature never mentioned an amphitheater, maybe the ruin no longer exists, or maybe we were just in too much of a hurry. In addition to those on this list, we have visited Roman amphitheaters in Paris and Périgueux, France; in Trier, Germany; Pula, (former) Yugoslavia; in Lecce, Lucca, Siracusa, and Verona, Italy.
Just next to the amphitheater, the Théâtre Antique (Roman Theater) could hold 7,000 spectators when it was built in the 0s BC. (Think about it, if it was the first century, it must have been in the 0s. We say a date in the twentieth century is in the 1900s.) The stage measures 335 feet across, some seats, the orchestra and two marble columns remain.
It was in Arles where Vincent Van Gogh, born in Holland in 1853, painted 300 canvases and innumerable drawings and watercolors. To the end of his career Van Gogh did not make money with his paintings, so one of his brothers supported him with a small allowance. He cut off his ear after quarreling with Paul Gauguin, and later shot himself and died near here in July 1890.
Arles has tourist attractions for every taste. A great number of churches, museums and other structures of interest await our next visit to Arles. The Saturday flea, food, and general market in Arles provided blocks and blocks of shopping. The good news is, except for food, we found nothing we couldn’t live without.
Four times we have visited the amphitheaters in Nîmes and Arles, and our feeling while walking around these lovely old structures is difficult to describe. It is exciting to see the construction up close, to view the craftsmanship of the stone cutters, and see the skill of the people who laid each stone in place, without mortar. One time we entered the Arles Amphitheater at the south entrance, walked to the very top, and then around the arena as far as we could. Just to walk from the top of one arch to the next, and know that these stones have been in place for almost two thousand years; it’s an exciting place to be — enjoy the beauty, envision the history.
In a park area near the amphitheater in Arles, an elderly lady (the widow of a former US Navy man), heard us speaking English and wanted to tell her story. She had loved living in the US, but was happy to return to the place of her birth after her husband died.
There are some changes, even in this ancient city. One year we stopped at McDonald’s in downtown Arles for an ice-cream sundae, and they were happy to give us a couple of large cups of ice so we could make ice-tea, American style. Those Golden Arches are a welcome sight for a snack, an ice cube, and for the rest rooms.
CAMARGUE
The Camargue has been largely preserved in its natural state as a botanical and zoological reserve. We drove south to Stes-Maries-de-la-Mer, watching for the wild white horses and the beautiful flamingos. Picture postcards for sale in the area all show flamingos standing in shallow pools, we saw no pictures of them flying and wondered if they could. At one place we stopped to take pictures, and sure enough, they took off and flew as a group. That was quite a sight — the black tail feathers, the beautiful coral wings, and the long, ungainly necks and legs.
SOUTHEAST PROVENCE
We visited several little towns in this area. In St. Martin the town clock does more than just strike the hour — five minutes later it strikes the hour again, but with a bell with a different tone. The street market spread for blocks and the cantaloupe we bought in St. Martin and ate in our own dining room while parked on top of the hill in picturesque Miramas-le-Vieux, was excellent, about the best we have ever had — again, we should have kept the seeds. The view from our dining room was marvelous — this lunch-spot (and hundreds of others) aren’t accidental, they are carefully selected.
Just outside St. Chamis they were rejuvenating a 2,000 year old Roman bridge, le Pont- Flavien (Flavian’s Bridge). There were triumphal arches at either end, both surmounted by small lions. In Cornillon-Conoux we found ourselves almost trapped in a tiny town square, with only tiny streets leading in and out. The young lady who helped us maneuver back and forth to get out of there was getting her Ph.D. in Social Anthropology, by studying a nearby town called Vernegues, almost destroyed by an earthquake in 1909. These ancient towns (and the youthful Anthropologist) are both beautiful and fascinating.
Before we visited Provence the first time we were unaware of the exceptional beauty of the Roman ruins that exist in this part of France. Our time was limited the year we drove the Autoroute from Barcelona to Nice, and we stopped only for bread and gasoline in one small town. In a couple of weeks we had an airplane to catch and expected to be traveling in France the following year, so we purposely did not stop. We couldn’t do that again though, now that we know what is here. If we had little time to spare, we would at least drive down the street past some of these most beautifully preserved architectural exhibits from ancient times.
When we visit Provence, we get so involved with the towns we have already seen, that we just haven’t spent time investigating the rest of the area. And because the small towns and villages are so intriguing, we don’t spend much time in the larger cities. Two different years we drove up and down Aix-en-Provence’s beautiful Cours Mirabeau, lined with four rows of huge arching plane trees, but haven’t really spent much time there. Once we drove through Marseille on a Sunday, stopping only at traffic lights and to take a few photos. There’s another couple of reasons to return to the south of France.
We would think that after spending nearly 1,000 days and nights touring Europe, and moving as often and as far as we have, we would have seen just about everything. Not even close — we have favorite towns that we just must visit every trip, and we try to go from place to place on different roads each time, but there are so many things to see — yet.
Chapter 16
Côte d’ Azure,
French Riviera
COTE D’ AZURE
The Côte d’Azur (Sky-Blue Coast, or French Riviera) offers innumerable points of interest, but except for the “Perched Villages” we are not as excited with the Riviera as we are with other parts of France. The Mediterranean shoreline from St. Tropez to the Italian border is mainly a crowded (in season) beach area — a beautiful beach, but that’s not our type of vacation. Many of the more famous beaches are covered with stones rather than sand — small smooth round stones, but stones nevertheless. At some beaches, mats could be rented so there is a little padding between the body and the pebbles. According to Jim, the most spectacular scenery is the beautiful ladies of every size and age sitting, lying and playing on the beach. They were in such a hurry to get here they only had time to put on half of their bathing suit.
We don’t have a list of sand versus pebble beaches, but if a Mediterranean beach were of interest we would drive until we found a beach we liked, look for room to park, then look for space to lie on the beach. At certain times of the year that might take a lot of looking. Some beaches were so nice that even the Humberds would have liked to stop and relax for a while, but no chance — no place to stop, let alone park.
“ GRAND CANYON ” OF THE VERDON
When driving from Provence to Nice and on to Monte-Carlo there is a choice between the coastal route (which is interesting, but often crowded), the Autoroute (the fastest but least interesting way), or the drive along the Verdon River to see the beauties (pun intended) of the “Grand Canyon” of the Verdon. It’s completely different from the Grand Canyon in Arizona, but with its narrow canyon walls shooting up to 5,000 feet, and its views straight down to the Verdon River, it’s impressive and well worth the drive.
At the Lake of Ste-Croix, at the western end of the Grand Canyon, we rented a pedal boat to ride a short distance up the Verdon River. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the lake and river were busy with boat traffic. Since the lady passengers in most of the boats were barefoot from the waist up, Jim pedaled just as hard as he could — Emmy insisted on doing the steering. Even without that extra-special scenery, the river gorge just before the river enters the lake is truly a beautiful area. The drive east from there provides other views down into the canyon, from the winding, twisty road.
From Nîmes, east across this part of France, fields are lush with lavender. One time we drove through this area at harvest time; the fields were covered with mauve flowers, and the air was heavy with the aromatic scent. The fragrant town of Grasse is the home of the French perfume industry. Many factories in this region process hundreds of tons of orange and rose blossoms, as well as lavender and other aromatic plants.
“ PERCHED ” VILLAGES
On the hills near the Mediterranean, and on the mountains further inland, many of what may be called the “Perched Villages” await our visit.
For centuries, peasants built their villages perched like eagles’ nests on hilltops, surrounding them with protective ramparts. Farmlands were on the plains some distance away, but protection from invasions by pirates and mercenaries was necessary. One year a man we talked to in Monte Carlo told us water is available at the top of many of these small mountains, by means of artesian wells. (Water forced to the top naturally, by hydrostatic pressure.)
Built with native stones, these villages seem to blend into the mountainside. Flagstone and cobbles pave the winding pathways, and torturous stairways wend their way from one level to the next. Narrow little paths between stone buildings, arches from building to building, stairs going here and there. We could write one paragraph that would describe any of these improbable places, then attach one of a dozen names. We can’t even tell them apart by looking at pictures, but each is unique, each is special, each is intriguing.
FREEDOM TO TRAVEL THROUGH EUROPE
During our travels throughout Europe we have visited at least a thousand cities, towns, and villages that had, or still have, protective walls and gates, or that were constructed like a fortress. Centuries ago people could not travel twenty miles from home, a farmer could not travel to his field without the possibility of attack, or involvement in some war or confrontation.
In all our travels in Europe, including several trips to countries behind the “Iron Curtain” and maybe 250 international border crossings, we’ve had little trouble with customs’ inspection, and no involvement at all with border police or the military. Nuclear war is so unthinkable, that maybe any war is less thinkable and now governments must learn to live with one another. National borders and unique languages continue, as they should, but in spite of terrorist attacks in recent years, it is now easier and safer to move from place to place without fear of attack, than it was centuries ago, in medieval days.
%GOURDIN
The old houses in Gourdin have been turned into boutiques and workshops that produce and sell carved olive wood, glassware and pottery, and distilled lavender and local honey. To give some idea of the acres of blooms grown around here, we were told it takes up to ten tons of blossoms to produce 2 pounds of perfume essence. The views are beautiful, the towns delightful, the fields are covered with flowers.
Some large copper or brass pots, and things that look like upside down funnels, used to distill perfume essence, are on display. Perhaps since they “distill” perfume essence, that explains why this equipment looks like pictures we have seen of equipment used to distill “moonshine” in the hills of Appalachia.
%TOURRETTE SUR LOUP
There are several villages in the Loup River valley, the most exceptional is Tourrette sur Loup, a fortified village with the outer houses forming the ramparts. Cobbled streets, narrow paths, stone houses, torturous stairways, Tourrette has them all. The towns’ authentic artisans include goldsmiths, potters, weavers, engravers and sculptors. We have mentioned other places we stopped for breakfast or lunch, but when, from our dining table we can see Tourrette sur Loup across the narrow gorge, that view is as fabulous as any.
This village dates from the middle ages, but people have been here for 20 centuries, and Tourrette’s fortunes have ebbed and flowed from wars and plagues. There are 3,100 inhabitants today, 1,800 at the start of the French Revolution, and only 850 people lived here at the end of WW II.
%ST. PAUL AND VENCE
Perhaps the best known villages in this area are St. Paul and Vence. As expected, they are not as exciting as some of the less-well-known villages, but they are larger, have tourist accommodations and facilities, with roads and streets large enough to permit the visit of tour groups and tourist busses.
%PEILLON
Another favorite is Peillon (untouched since the middle ages), perched on top of a pointy mountain, about 15 miles north of Nice and the Mediterranean Sea. As we walk along these little paths in Peillon, the steps lead up or down to the entrance of two or three homes, and the doors to those homes are of different sizes, some we would have to stoop to enter.
%PEILLE
Peille is perched on the very tip of a mountain shaped like a loaf of bread standing on end, with the town covering the top like a knit cap. The hairpin switch-backs on the road to Peille were almost frightening. The first road-sign said seven lacets (curves), the next said four more, and we had to stop and back and turn again to make some of the extremely steep, twisty, ungainly curves. A breathtaking little town where we walk up here, and down there, and can think of no other description of much value. Few little towns we have seen elsewhere compare to Peille and several others in these mountains along the Mediterranean Coast. Little stone houses built against, along side, above, below, and across the path from each other.
At one very narrow place as we were leaving Peille, Jim scraped the back corner of the camper and broke the Renault’s tail light. Must do something about that. We found a replacement tail light cover, and since we still had the same driver, we bought a spare.
Standard road maps won’t help much here — be sure to get information from the Syndicat d’Initiative or something like the Michelin Green Guide. We make sure we don’t miss hilltop villages such as Gourdin, Tourrette, Peillon, Peille, and a dozen more in this part of France. If we want to see additional absolutely unique villages that describe precisely like these, we can continue along the mountainous Italian coast and visit dozens more, such as Nicola and Ortonova near Sarzana, Italy.
FRENCH ALPS, THE ROUTE OF NAPOLEON
In 1988 we followed the Route of Napoléon from Grasse near the Riveria, north across the Alps. In 1815 The Emperor escaped from Elba and spent the night in Cannes. A week later, along with 1,100 men, he arrived in Grenoble (home of the 1968 Winter Olympics, 153 years later). We followed Napoléon’s Route part of the way to Grenoble, and what is also “known” as Humberd’s Route, is very scenic, a lot of fun, and at times, terrorizing.
The drive from Grasse was up and up and up, and we drove through some snowy mountains with huge rocks, and golden and gray diagonal stone cliffs. In the town of Chateau Arnoux, we wondered about palm trees and banana trees, growing this far north. Sisteron is a lovely old town with an ancient citadel on the hill overlooking the town, and a large knife-edged, diagonal stone cliff overhanging the town. We could see apples being harvested in the orchards, and there were several towns on hilltops in the distance. There is enough scenery along here to satisfy the Humberds, as well as Napoléon.
Farmland sprinkled with buildings line both sides of the road, much of the way to the city of Gap. As we have seen in other countries, here, high in the mountains, we find many buildings with rusted, tin roofs. It’s surprising to see the many hi-rise apartment buildings in Gap and Briancon, this high up in the mountains. The drive through the Alps is spectacular, and a few miles before Briancon we saw a sweeping glacier above a milky river of glacier water. Perhaps because of the extreme temperature difference between winter and summer, the roads and streets in Briancon were not in good condition, the worst we have seen in France. Tourist literature says Briancon is the highest (altitude) city in Europe, but we wonder how they determine that Briancon is a city and other groups of buildings with names, higher up the mountains are not cities.
One of Emmy’s cousins recommended we cross two mountain passes or Col; one is Col de Lautaret, the other Col du Galibier. As we approach Col de Lautaret (6,752 feet), we see low brightly colored ground cover on both sides of the road, yellow and green on the right side of the road, and red on the left. Can’t imagine what the difference is, but it’s as if the road is an exact dividing line of some kind.
The road surface is smooth, but so narrow we must get to the very edge of the paved portion and a little more, when any vehicle is met. Steep, steep road, sharp switch-back curves, and it seems we are on the outside lane, next to the drop-off, most of the time. If the RV went off the road, it wouldn’t touch anything for the first thousand feet or so. There’s not even a small pebble between us and a plunge off the side of the mountain, there’s no place to pull to the side and take a deep breath. This narrow road has no guard rails, but for the very best of reasons, there’s no room for them! Took an hour and 15 minutes to go just 26 miles. Beautiful, but also the most threatening, terrorizing drive we remember.
After hours of careful driving we arrived in St. Michel Maureiane, a rather dreary town, this day. At the first campsite, we found it was filled with what looked like a band of Gypsies. Before we could even get turned around to leave, a dozen Gypsy children were begging, and trying to get hold of our camper.
%FREJUS
Fréjus takes its name from a village founded by Julius Caesar in 49 BC. It was a trading post on the great coastal road known as Aurélian Way, two thousand years ago. To show how some things don’t change, at many places between here and Rome, signs (and maps) still identify the coastal road as Via Aurélia, all the way to Rome. We’ve stayed at Camping Roma, on Via Aurélia in Rome, several times.
The cathedral was built starting in the late 900s, on the remains of a previous basilica that was built over an even earlier church. The Baptistry, next to the cathedral, is thought to have been built in about the late 300s AD. As we entered the city from the east, we stopped to see the tall pillars and ruined arcades of the aqueduct that carried water from 25 miles away in Roman days, and on the west side of the city, we walked around inside the Roman Arena or amphitheater. This is the oldest in France, and would hold about 10,000 spectators, about half as many as in Arles or Nimes.
What a delightful place to visit. During our second visit Jim drove around Fréjus with difficulty (traffic and street conditions were difficult, not the passenger), but found no parking space within a distance that appealed to Emmy’s spirit of adventure, as modified by her gumption for walking. She demands some reasonable association between effort and excitement, even in shopping.
%GRASSE
Found a parking place in the old town of Grasse, and walked here and there on the narrow hilly streets with four, five, and six story buildings, right at the street edge. Some one-way streets are one-way for the person who gets there first, the other must back out and take his turn. This part of Grasse seems crowded with people from Tunisia, and we bought some very delicious bread in a Tunisian bakery.
In 1988, Madam Renie had translated for us when we visited Oradour sur Glane a few weeks earlier, and asked us to visit when we got to Grasse. She came to the campsite in her little Renault auto, to transport us on a tour of the city, and a visit to her very beautiful home. She had been a member of the French underground, and was imprisoned by the Germans for eighteen months, during WW II. We had a very interesting evening, and a pleasant conversation.
In 1995 we stopped at this same campsite, telephoned Renie, again accepted her invitation to visit. She said, “I’m sure you remember where I live.” Well, we had been at her home, riding in her car, long after dark, seven years earlier, and we couldn’t find her street on the city map at the campsite office. She had more confidence in navigational skills of the driver, than we did. As we drove down the hill, at one intersection, out of the corner of his eye Jim saw something that looked familiar. We turned, we drove a mile, we asked once, and — well, the homing pigeon was successful again.
At a supermarket in Grasse we found a pint of Häagen-Dazs Pralines and Cream ($6) to eat while looking over the valley toward Cannes and the Mediterranean Sea. Between Grasse and Cannes, Emmy liked a pink glass bowl she saw in an antique shop. The price was 100 French Francs, Emmy would pay 75. Jim offered 60, the lady said 80, Jim said 70, and the lady said, sold.
%CANNES
This seaside city is perhaps best known for the Cannes Film Festival, held in May each year. Its downtown area is crowded with shopping streets, and the boulevard along the water presents interesting views of the Mediterranean Sea, the city, and the hills beyond.
To lengthen the “season,” Cannes now has several festivals, including the “battle” of the flowers, the international regattas, and a mimosa festival. Tons of mimosa stems are cut annually and dispatched to all parts of the world.
The sea-shore between Cannes and Nice is exceptionally scenic, and extraordinarily crowded. Traffic often just crawls through town after town, with practically no open space in between, and no place to park when we finally get to a town. Beach areas, of course, are less crowded in November, but in-town parking was not much better than it was in August.
Mountains are inland from Cannes, but much of the way from Nice to the Italian border, cliffs rise dramatically from the sea. Many months of the year, snow-capped mountains can be seen to the north.
Three highways go from Cannes to the Italian border: The Grande Corniche (built by Napoléon) high above the sea gives the most beautiful views; the Moyenne (middle) Corniche with some fine vistas; the Lower Corniche (along the sea), provides access to all the coastal towns, and to the tiny principality of Monaco.
If we wanted to get to Italy quickly, and didn’t care to visit this part of France, the Autoroute (higher up the mountainside) spends a lot of time in tunnels, and is quick and direct — certainly not a tourist route.
One year in the campsite near Cannes we met Paul and Ellie, and their little
Tidbit by Jim and Emmy HumberdSimilar tidbits in: Book = Invitation to France, Travel Tidbits
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