We are just getting settled in our gîte in Provence, near the town of Cabannes. These French holiday rentals are promoted by the French government, and many are old converted outbuildings on farms, which describes our new home for the next week. But more on that later. (However, the internet connection here is very slow, so our location will influence the number of photos posted this week.)
We drove from Aix to the town of Salon de Provence this morning. It was a lovely day, and the local merchants were all participating in a sidewalk sale, which necessitated constant announcements on the town’s loudspeaker system, alternating with music. Weird to hear Supertramp singing “It’s Raining Again” but even stranger to hear Frank Sinatra belting out “New York, New York.” It was a lovely day, even though most cultural sites were closed, because, well, because it is Saturday. Even the staff at the tourist office had to admit that was a bit strange. Guess tourists should limit their travels to Tuesdays and Wednesdays. At any rate, we did see the outside of the 15th century castle, where Catherine de Medici came to learn about the future from local sage Nostradamus, who lived here and is buried here. Sweet town and a nice lunch.
Then it was on to the very small town of Cavaillon, where the world’s most wonderful melons are said to originate. (Hope to get one tomorrow, now that we have a kitchen.) The town was truly sleepy, but in truth we were there between 1 and 3PM, when not much is open or happening. Thank goodness we did find a grocery store open.
And finally on to our gîte. Despite having the coordinates in our GPS, we got thoroughly lost and Gwyneth had us in the middle of a field for a while. Our nice landlady responded to our SOS with an offer to meet us in the village square. I was about to lose it when a small car kept glued to my trunk as we tried to find the center, when I finally ripped into a parking space and realized that we were being pursued by our hostess. All was resolved, and here we are in our lovely new home. Wish we could share the smells from the orchard. Should be a great night’s sleep in our repurposed 15th century hayloft.
