Day 2 -- Driving in France

This will be another post full of words and not so many photos.  It's not that I didn't want to take photos, but you've probably noticed it's not very easy to take a picture when you are driving.  Especially when you are driving an unfamiliar car, on roads that allow two-way traffic but is barely wide enough for one car!

Due to circumstances completely in my control, we got started late from the Marseille airport,  I met the women who would be driving with me and they are delightful.  We opted for a larger car, which came with automatic transmission, and began loading our luggage into the trunk.  The car was unlocked and we closed the trunk to make sure everything would fit.  All well and good, but the whole car locked at this point.  No problem, except I had put my purse, with the keys in the trunk.  Still no problem I think, I'll just go ask for their duplicate key, feel like a bit of an idiot and get the car unlocked.  Seems this car is from Paris, as the Paris office has the other key.  Someone from the equivalent of AAA arrives about an hour later and opens the car.  I am very sorry I didn't take a photo, as the tools to unlock the car are ingenious.  But the camera was locked in the car too.

Driving from the airport to our destination, La Bastide de Bonnieux is through beautiful, twisty, mountainous country.  If you have ever driven on the road from Santa Rosa up to Calistoga and then continued on the Middletown, you know what the road looks like (so, my husband, kids, and anyone who has ever gone to Camp Verdant Vales is visualizing it).  One would think this would be difficult, and the ladies in the car with me certainly did.  But it was like being home again and I had no problems.  It was helpful that no one was driving down as I was driving up though.

We have a GPS in our car.  I have never used GPS before and didn't think I would like it.  But in this instance, it was great.  It's possible that Lizette (we named her) took us on the more scenic route.  At one point I missed the turn and we found ourselves at a charming little outdoor restaurant.

View from our table

Another view from our table.

About an hour later we arrived in Bonnieux, our destination.

 This is the view of Bonnieux from across the valley in Lacoste.

 It is a VERY hilly town!

We spent a lovely time sitting in a cafe talking to a young woman from Toronto. My new friends  are also from Toronto -- very small world,

Tomorrow we drive a lot and go to brocants, vide greniers, flea markets@

Sat 4 Oct

Day One -- oh la la

This was a day spent almost entirely in airports!

It started Thursday evening when I went up to Boston for my flight.  Before hand my husband and son and I went out to dinner at CPK -- that was fun!  I got to the airport, had time to sit in one of the Boston Rockers the airport provides -- I know, there should be a photo of it here!  I tell ya, sitting in a rocking chair instead of the awful airline waiting area chairs is such a treat!  My flight left at 10:45 pm and it was uneventful.  I think that was the last uneventful thing of my day.

I flew to London's Heathrow airport, where they were having quite a bit of early morning fog.  Somehow, this caused them to cancel all sorts of flights.  Looking back the cancellations were pretty random.  My flight to Marseille was cancelled.  

There were no seats to Marseille to be had yesterday.  And the earliest they could book me would have been today at 3 pm, arriving many, many hours after I was s'posed to pick up two of the women traveling to the art workshop with me.  So, what's a girl to do?  Talk to the agent nicely and see how to get me to France.  I figured once in France, anywhere in France, I could somehow find my way to Marseille.  I had paid for a hotel room for last night, I had an agreement to meet L & C at the car rental place.  I was on a mission.   

The agent was able to book me on a flight to Nice.  The options were Toulouse (4 hrs away), Lyon (3 hrs away) or Nice about 2 hours down the coast from Marseille.  I was there a long time ago with my brother and have fond memories.  At this point I have moved from Terminal 5 to Terminal 1, only to be told I needed to return to Terminal 5 again.  So back thru airport security for a second time, and definitely feeling like a pack-mule.  At this point I'm thinking this sound like stories my sister told of her trip to Ireland with our Nana!  For them is was lost luggage, the Blarney Stone, etc.

The flight to Nice was delayed just a bit.  Enough so the buses and trains that might have taken me to Marseille have left their stations.  I have no idea how I am getting to Marseille.  I mention this to the woman next to me on the plane.  Turns out most everyone flying British Airways yesterday was negatively affected.  She says have them get you to Marseille this evening and don't take no for an answer.  Not my usual way, but ok.  At this point I am hoping that someone will hear my plight, and offer me a ride to Marseille,  Isn't that a movie with John Candy and a Polka band?

No Polka band, no need to hitchhike.  I gather my luggage, make my way to the British Airways desk, throw myself on the agent's mercy and am offered a paid taxi ride right to my hotel!  The ride was long, the driver was nice, I didn't have to slep my luggage another foot.  My room was waiting.

   

As you can see -- simple and small.

And wifi, breakfast in the morning and 

a hot shower with great water pressure!

Thurs/Fri 2/3 October

CRAZED!

I  really do love to travel!
I even think I'm good at it.

I have been told by someone who observes me closely that I have a very high regard for myself, so whether I really am good at travel is up for discussion.  However, I am awful in the preparation for a trip.  I go overboard.  All the laundry has to be done.  The whole house has to be cleaned.  Sometimes I am even compelled to re-arrange books or furniture.  I shop for clothes I might need and then return most of them.  I agonize over what luggage to bring!  

Backpack?  Checked suitcase?  Carry-ons?

10x is probably my record for repacking my clothes for a single trip.  And this is France!  I cannot go with baggy mom-jeans or yoga pants as daywear.  I am impelled to be stylish, hope I look like I belong there, pray I fit in.  Years ago while waiting for a bus in Paris, I was asked in French for directions!  It was the highlight of the trip -- someone thought I was Parisian.  Or it could be that I have that look that says "ask me, I'll give information," but I'm going to hold on to the illusion that I looked like I belonged.   My observer has told me there is no way I won't look American, and I think she is probably right.  Still you know what they say about hope and eternal springs. . . 

This trip will include art workshops and outings to brocantes (French flea markets), antique shops, second hand shops, lots of places to buy wonderful vintage goodies.  Last time I ended up buying this blue suitcase there to hold all my extra treasures.  This trip I'm returning with that suitcase empty.  Hence what looks in the above photo as a suitcase inside another one is actually that!  The suitcases with all the scissors and sharp pointy things are getting checked, my clothes are carry-on

I leave tomorrow.  All my clothes are packed.  My art supplies are packed.  My toiletries all fit in a quart size container-- now that is a true feat, let me tell you!  Do I have everything I want to bring?  I'm not sure.  Will I look like a pack mule at the airport?  I sincerely hope not.  Once the plane takes off will I let go of all this craziness?  YES, YES, YES.  Perhaps that's why I keep traveling.  The before stuff makes me and all my loved one a bit nuts.  But the trip takes over and  I am able to go with the flow, at least that's what I tell myself.  I'm not sure we should ask the observer.  She'd probably say I'm way too intense wherever I am.

A bientot

The Gardener of Versailles

I am reading the most wonderful book.  

Recently translated to French, this is a memoir of the current Gardener-in-Chief at Versailles.

He starts with the storm of  December 26, 1999 when it looked as if Versailles was completely lost.  Damage, trees down, flooding, more damage.  A heart-breaking disaster.

A lot of amazing things happened to bring the garden back to life.

It's a lovely read and I highly recommend it!

I think one would enjoy the book even if you had never been to Versailles.

Since I was there, it was particularly fun to visualize some of the places and plantings he wrote about.

Is this one of the trees damaged in the storm?
Wish I had made notes to go along with my photos,
but after 3 years I only know this tree is in Versailles.

I'm on my way to France this week.

I will be in Provence, Toulouse, and  near Caussade.  

After reading M. Baraton's book I'm sorry Paris isn't just a bit closer to my planned destinations.

Le Petite Trianon

When we last spied our heroine, she was busy readying her studio for an artist play date.  As it turned out, the other artist did not feel like playing, so they went out to lunch and then her friend went home to bed.  Next came preparations for a surprise clean up of the room known as the parlour and home to her husband's office/studio, then a whopping snow storm/birthday and now it is now.

Day 2 of our Paris Adventure was spent at Versailles.  It is an easy metro ride and once off the train, there is no need to ask where to go, just follow the crowds.  One of the things I discovered while looking at my photos is a severe lack of long view photos.  So to see what the Palace at Versailles looks like, go here  and to see an overview of our destination, Marie Antoinette's estate, go here.   

Here is Marie's village as it caught my attention:

 

 This photo is extra large cuz I am sucker for roses!
Both grandma and nana loved them, which makes them very special to me.

 

Artichokes

I don't know where the vegetables go, but this garden is still producing!

That's all for today, my kids are home for the weekend and we're going to cook together.  My favorite way to cook -- together.

 

 

A Hint of What's to Follow

 I did go over to the barn/studio with the idea I would post about our next, fabulous day in Paris.  And while I was looking at all the photos I had taken in this heavenly garden, it also hit me that my friend Lynn is coming to visit next week to play/create in the barn.  And the barn/studio is a mess!

So I reluctantly left France and glorious garden shots to work at getting a table clear, space around the table to sit or walk and the general detritus off the floor.  I worked for 3 hours, putting stuff away, throwing stuff away and even de-stashing some boxes of supplies that can be sold at the flea market next summer.  There's still a lot more to be done, so until Tuesday, I'm over there working, not blog posting.

I will leave you with another hint of loveliness and hope you will return next week when I will post more photos and talk about The Queen's Gardens.

Dreaming of France

While sitting at my worktable, the heater going full blast at my feet, bare trees out my window and the whole arctic vortex thing going on, I am dreaming of my trip to France.  I figure there's no better way to get back into blogging then to finish sharing my June 2011 trip.  I wrote about my first week and the wonderful workshop with Anna Corba.  To read those posts start here, then go here,  here,  here,  here,  here,  here, and finally  here, 
When we left our heroine, she was leaving Toulouse, boarding a train for Paris to meet up with her husband. 

The train trip was an adventure.  I had booked a bed on a sleeping car which left Toulouse at 10 pm and arrived in Paris at around 6 am. Four of us shared a car and slept all the way to Gare d'Austerlitz.  I then schlepped my suitcases across the Seine to Gare de Lyon, checked them into a locker, bought  metro passes and made my way to Gare du Nord where my husband had arrived from London. 

 I'm glad I have experience with subways.  

Paris is no harder than Boston or New York, except all the signs are in French!

 Considering all that, I don't look the worse for wear!

But sadly, the shoes were not as comfortable as I could have wished.

Our day continued with a stroll on the Left Bank.

We decided to spend our first day in Paris visiting just two special places:

Musee D'Orsay where we ate lunch and overdosed on the largest retrospective of Edouard Manet since 1954.
I bailed after room 9 and went in search of the pretties -- Monet, Degas, Van Gogh.
My husband loves Manet and saw the entire exhibit.

Notre Dame:  I had visited before, but my husband had not, so we walked there next.

Who doesn't love a good flying buttress?

 

And my husband's favorites -- Gargoyles!