Vincent's Provence

Today blew in with a gray sky and threats of rain as we headed toward Arles, the scene of many of Vinvent Van Gogh’s paintings. Arles is an ancient town, having been a major thoroughfare for the Greeks and the Romans. The old forum, which has been partially restored, is a reminder of those earlier times. While the boys toured the forum, Kris found the Santons she had been looking for and spent a big chunk of her shopping budget.

I was on the lookout for fabric from which to make a myriad of things I had seen in the markets around Provence. I finally settled on a quilted print featuring the cigale or grasshopper, the symbol of the region. I bought enough fabric to fill a good part of the duffle bag which David had packed empty. I spent much of the rest of our driving time designing the things I want to make.


As we toured Arles on foot, I discovered another specialty of the French, the toilet with two footprints and a hole in the ground. Never before had I attempted to do what I did in that toilet. (At least one of you is saying TMI, so enough about French toilets.)


From Arles, we headed north to Les Baux, a town built on the side of a hill, which seemed to be largely a collection of classy souvenir shops. The good news was that if you held out until you got to the top, the prices were lower. We rewarded ourselves for trekking up the hundreds of steps of Les Baux with the best café au lait we have had in France. Even David decided to go for the caffeine, take his Lactaid pill, and experience the luxury of coffee as only the French can make it.


Our way home took us through St. Remy, the site of the hospital where Van Gogh recovered from his suicide attempt. It’s a good think Kris and I had put together this jigsaw puzzle because St. Remy proved to be a “just missed it” spot as Bill accelerated back toward Lourmarin. (“Just missed it” was coined by one of Kris’s and Bill’s children because of his proclivity to drive right past important sites without stopping.)



The rain never really proved to be a problem, but most things would have probably looked better in the sunlight we have been spoiled with most days.

Tonight we will finish off the daube, eat artichokes, duck pate, and a bottle of new red wine from a vineyard just down the road.

Tomorrow the sun is supposed to return. We’re thinking of staying near home and exploring a maker of scents just up the road from Lourmarin on bikes. The sand of our Lourmarin hourglass is running low…