Provence Vacation - Part 2

In September, Muschi and Paschi took us on vacation to the Luberon region of Provence.  Here are some pictures and my notes on our time there.

Tuesday

Morning.  Paschi, Donnie and I head to the Rustrel bakery for the daily bread.  We buy a baguette and a fougasse.  (A fougasse is made from olive oil dough which is rolled flat and slit, producing a branching appearance and lots of nice, chewy crust.  The Rustrel bakery uses a wood burning oven making their fougasse is particularly good).  We also buy two little cakes--one apricot, the other chocolate with pears--to eat that day for Louisa's birthday.

Later in th morning, after Louisa goes down for her nap, Paschi, Muschi  and I head to Apt.  Paschi sits in the car while Muschi and I visit the Apt farmers' market.  We buy fruit, pate, lavender essential oil, zinnias, wine, and one bar of very expensive soap.  

A group of school children visiting the produce stand.

Birthday zinnias!

A gate leading to the old city of Apt

Back at Le Rosier, we celebrate Loulou's first birthday. I'm grateful that her birthday has fallen during this vacation.  It's so good to be with family.  The fact that we're traveling means the event is nice and simple.  We have a good lunch under the grape arbor, sing happy birthday, and open a few presents.   Louisa doesn't need any help from us blowing out her candle--the wind does it for her.

Now, I'll take a break from the travel narrative to note that Louisa's first year has gone by so quickly and sweetly!   I've heard different opinions on whether it's easier to transition from no children to one child or one child to two.   For us, it has been much easier (and less angsty) to go from one to two.  I credit Loulou's cheery and affectionate personality, and the wonderful way that she and Maria get along.   Louisa has brought a fullness of joy to our family life.  We love her so!  Now back to the log...


Following lunch, we have "quiet time" (Louisa sleeps, Maria doesn't), and then rush to get to the Lavender Museum before it closes.  The Lavender Museum is an exquisite learning and indoctrination experience.   The whole place smells of  lavender, and the walls are painted a gentle purple gray.   Exhibits show the process of extracting essential oil from the plants, and the evolution of distillation technology.    

Now I'm going to get a bit pedantic, and recount a few of the interesting factoids we learned at the museum.  Please feel free to skip:

* There are two different plants that are often called "lavender."

There is fine lavender and lavandin.  Fine lavender is the natural plant--the one that Provencal peasants gathered wild in the mountains and sold to perfumers to augment their income.  Fine lavender can only grow in a narrow range of altitude.  The plant has a fine, subtle fragrance and many medicinal qualities.   

Lavendin is a hybrid of fine lavender  and can grow almost anywhere.  It has a much stronger, headier scent, and is used to perfume detergents.  Lavendin is much easier to grow and produces much more essential oil per unit volume.   According to the museum, lavandin has no medicinal qualities.

Hearing this, does it surprise you that the museum is the side business of a fine lavender farm?  Promoting the benefits of fine lavender over lavandin is one of their explicit missions.   

(Learning this distinction, Muschi and I realise that the essential oil we bought in the morning at the farmers' market must have from lavandin rather than fine lavender.  Fine lavender essential oil would have cost us three times as much.)

Other factoids:

*The city of Grasse became a perfume capital after local leather workers discovered they could perfume their products to mask the unpleasant smell of tanning chemicals.  Thus the guild of leather workers became the guild of leather workers and perfume makers.

*Flower oils are distilled in much the same process, with much the same equipment, as alcohool.  One of the the stills we saw had been rendered inoperable by the customs officials, in order to  prevent its owners from using it to make illegal cognac.   Now we're thinking that distillation really needs to be covered in our future homeschooling curriculum.


Returning to family travel narrative....

At last, we break free of the museum's beautiful-smelling and pricey gift store and pile back into the car.  While Paschi is setting the Garmin, he discovers that we are not far from another notable site, Fountaine de Vaucluse, the source of the Sorgue River.  We spend twenty minutes driving through narrow country lanes, into the Sorgue river canyon and arrive at the village as night is falling. 

As the trip was unplanned and unresearched, I'm not prepared for the sublime landscape that greets us.  The Sorgue river emerges from the foot of cliffs, which loom over the valley like petrified waves. 

It was too dark to take pictures when we were at Fountaine de Vaucluse, but we spotted this painting of the Source several days later when we visited Avingnon.

We follow the path up the the river, up to the source, where the water appears suddenly, at full river strength, from the shaddowy rock.   We hear scratching noises presumably made by spelunkers investigating a nearby cave.  I pray that no one close to me ever takes up that dreadful hobby.

As we drive away, I'm grateful to have seen the source, but glad to put the hulking cliffs behind me.  Donnie declares that the Sorgue is now his favorite river.  The way home is difficult driving---dark, winding farm lanes.  We are grateful when we pull into the driveway of the La Grand Bastide.

Another great day in Provence.

Some video from Loulou's birthday festivities:

Provence Vacation - Part I

Back in September, Muschi and Paschi took us on vacation to the Luberon region of Provence.  Here are some pictures and my notes on our time there.


Saturday

We arrive at La Grand Bastide at sunset. The housekeeper and her daughter are there to show us our quarters. I can hardly contain my glee over the beauty of the place.  La Grande Bastide is a large, four-century-old farmhouse.  Our apartment, "Le Rosier" was named for the rose bushes that flourish in the courtyard outside.  The apartment is big--the size of a four bedroom house. And there's a pool!  More importantly, there's a dishwasher!  But despite its modern comforts, "Le Rosier" still has French farmhouse charm in form of tiled floors, thick plaster walls,* age-darkened ceiling beams and functional wooden shutters.   From the second story, there are views of the tree-covered ridges and neighboring vineyards.

After unloading the car, we go to dinner in the nearby village of Rustrel.  We eat outdoors at a restaurant on the town square.  Maria plays at the nearby playground while we wait for our food.  It's a memorable meal--ravioli with pistou (pesto), fish cassoulet, and steak with frites, washed down with a friendly red table wine.  The relaxed dress of our fellow restaurant goers and the easy manner of the waiter herald the pleasures of country living.  It has a very different feel from the Paris metro area.

Sunday

Muschi walks to Rustrel in the morning to pick up croissants and a lovely sourdough baguette.  After breakfast, Muschi and Maria head out to the Vide Grenier ("empty basement"- French for garage sale) in Rustrel.  Paschi, Donnie, Louisa and I go to Apt for Mass at the Cathedral of St. Anne. The Cathedral is a baroque beauty, but rather dark and in need of restoration.

In the cathedral, there is a fine image of the Annunciation.  Mary wears an expression not often seen  depictions of the Annuciation--a look of avid interest.

Following mass, the alter servers produce ropes that had been tucked out of sight during the service.  It seems the Cathedral bells are hung directly over the alter.  The children ring the bells, catching onto the ropes allowing themselves to be lifted off the ground.   

Statue of St. Anne, atop the cathedral in Apt.

A gate tower near the Apt Cathedral, with Provencal style bell cage.

Succulents on the window sills.

Look at the leopard print top Muschi brought me!  She assures me that leopard is "in."  I like it very much.

We reunite with Muschi and Maria in Rustrel and lunch at the Auberge de Rustrel, another restaurant on the village square.  The Auberge contains an old well (caged over for safety, but dramatically lit from inside.)  The well captures Maria's imagination, and keeps her distracted while we wait for bread to be brought to the table.  There's another wonderful table wine---unfortunately, we don't ask what it is.  Aside from the wine, the most memorable part of the meal is the dessert--orange-flavored creme brullee, topped with two slivers of candied orange peel.

Muschi's vide grenier finds.

Monday

Rain.  Muchi and Paschi go grocery shopping in Apt while the Sheehys stay at home.  Louisa takes her morning nap.  After several hours, Muschi and Paschi return home and the rain stops.  We stow the groceries and head out under heavy clouds to the Pont Julien, a Roman Bridge from 3 BC.  We chose a rock in the riverbed with a good view of the bridge and unpack our lunch.  We drink tea and eat sandwiches, slices of Chausse de Moins cheese and pears.   The sky clears.  Maria plays in the sand. 

Look, no mortar!

Paschi bring the thunderheads in his wake!  Bwahhhhhhahahaha!

View from on top of the bridge.

Hoping to take advantage of the blue skies, we pile back in the car and head toward the hilltop town of Gordes.   The girls and Donnie sleep in the parked car while Muschi, Pashci, and I go in search of a photo op.  We find one.

We rejoin Donnie and the kids and walk uphill into the city.  Maria and the men stake out a sunny spot next to the chateau while Muschi and I visit boutiques.  The shops sell olive wood, honey, soap, lavender sachets, grinders full of herbs de Provence, and colorful traditional fabrics.  There are all manner of ceramic items decorated with Provencal motifs--olive branches, lavender, and cicadas.  After Muschi and I break free from the thrall of the shops, we walk down a few more cobblestone alleys, finding more great views.

Look who's awake!

 

The next stop is Rousillon.   A sign at the entrance of the town declares that it is "One of France's Most Beautiful Villages"--a distinction is shares with Gordes.  Rousillon owes its unique appearance to it's ochre tinted buildings.  These building serve as a kind of swatch catalog for all the colors that can be found in the ochre clay deposits surrounding the town.  (Until the early 20th century, ochre mining was one of the area's main industries.  The ochre was used to make pigments that found their way into all sorts of things--from sausages to artists' paints.)  I'm glad that Muschi is wearing her bright blue sweatshirt--it's the perfect compliment to the town's parade of oranges. 

We eventually find our way to the cemetery.  It's a walled plot, with above-ground mausoleums.  It overlooks the town, a benevolent reminder of past generations.  

Finally, we descend the ruddy heights and ride back to La Grande Bastide.  On the way home, I think about the steep, winding alleys and scenic heights of Gordes and Rousillon, and wonder if they'll reappear in my dreams.

We end our busy day with a homemade dinner of fried mashed potatoes, sausages and salad.

{pretty, happy, funny, real} On Our Visit to the Iron Lady, First Steps, Marking Territory, and the Difficulties of Starting School - September 22, 2012

This entry is from September 22nd.  Last Saturday, we left for our vacation and I didn't manage to get this out before our departure.   For more {pretty, happy, funny, real}, visit Like Mother, Like Daughter.

{pretty}

On Wednesday, Muschi and I packed up the girls and trundled off into the city.  Our first stop was a shopping center in in Montparnass to buy this picnic backpack (we had a gift certificate).  Our second, and primary destination, was the Eiffel tower.  It was high time that we had a picture of the children in front of Paris' s most recognizable landmark!

The Iron Lady-- this filigree giantess does not disappoint!

Maria was charmed to see the tower, which she has seen so often in pictures and books.  (We've visited the tower before, but Maria was asleep in the stroller by the time we got close.)  After a couple moments, the excitement of the monument wore off, and Maria began to look around for more mundane sources of entertainment, like chasing pigeons and exclaiming over Louisa's chubby cheeks.

 Both girls enjoyed the playground on the Champ du Mars. There is something special about these photos of the playground with the tower behind it.  

{happy}

Houston, we have a biped! 

This picture was taken on Tuesday, after Louisa walked about four steps from where Muschi was seated at the the table over to the bed.  Louisa had just accepted a croissant from Muschi and being much preoccupied with the gift, walked to the bed without holding on to anything.   Presumably, she was going to the bed wipe her crumb-covered, buttery hands on the sheets.

It's remarkable how children arrive at these milestones without even realizing what they've done.   After all that struggling and flopping about, is simply happens one day and is as natural as anything!

The victor enjoys her croissant.

{funny}

To my delight, Maria is getting the trick of going to the bathroom outdoors. I have no talent for getting my toddler to the bathroom when we are out and about, so this makes me very happy.

I've heard women speaking with pride about all the places they've breastfed their babies.  They keep a running list. 

I have the feeling I'm going to be the same about of Maria's marking the territory.  So far, our list is small--the back yard, the parking lot by playground, the alley by the school.  Now, I get to add the Champ du Mars!

{also funny}

A conversation between man and wife:

Me: (After we'd settled in for the night) Shoot! There's laundry in the dryer.  Donnie, would you be my knight in shining armor and get the laundry.

Donnie: Oh, that means I have to sneak by the dragon (aka: Louisa, who sleeps in foyer, which must be crossed to access the laundry.)  Ughh.  Sure.  I'll be your knight.  But, I have to find my shiny armor.  Would you get it for me?

Me:  Where is it?

Donnie: In the dryer.

End of story, Donnie got the laundry even though he didn't have the armor.

{real}

We're still suffering pangs of adjustment from the beginning of school.  Maria's excitement over school lasted only for the first few days, and has transformed into outright resistance.   When it comes time to leave, she pitches a fit, trying every trick in her repertoire to delay departure. First it's the "I'm too tired" phase, then it changes to the "I want Pooh! No, I don't want pooh!" phase.  There have been a number of days when we've carried her, literally kicking and screaming all the way to the maternelle.

Maria's adjustment to the Haltegarderie was no where so difficult.  The Haltegarderie was more like a play date with a lot of really wonderful toys.   At the maternelle, the teacher to student ratio is lower, and the mornings include many structured activities.  The children need to move together as a group.  The Maitresses must be quite strict to get everyone where they need to be.  Lets face it, just getting a group of 15 toddlers onto and off of the potty is a major operation! The teachers aren't able to spend much time comforting upset children. There's at least one crying child whenever we go, and that child is usually left to calm down by him or herself.   The language is an extra burden for Maria, who always seems a bit dazed when we pick her up.

I'm certain that it is a matter of acclimation, and that Maria will soon be rattling off French and have a bunch of little friends whom she looks forward to seeing at school.  But for now, I'm grateful we're only doing mornings four times a week.  It also makes me rather more interested in investigating homeschooling for the future.