After two weeks on the road, we’ve had enough and are ready to settle down for a while. Our digs for the next month are in a 17th century building in a town a little east of Avignon. The apartment is huge (way more room than we are used to in New York!), and beautiful, with two floors, 20 foot ceilings in the living room, and big provincial windows that open wide onto a pretty little courtyard. We are in Van Gogh country. Van Gogh painted the majority of his famous works while living in Arles, and while at the asylum at St. Rémy de Provence, which are both just south of here. And I must admit, it does look like a Van Gogh painting. Most of these farmhouses and towns have been here since before Van Gogh’s time, so really, the scenery hasn’t changed all that much. The sun shines brightly in clear blue skies each day, punctuated occasionally by intense afternoon thunderstorms. The intensity of the sun down here reminds me of Arizona, so, of course, I love it.
We arrived last Saturday afternoon and spent Sunday exploring the towns and countryside of the Luberon a bit. The Luberon is the area made famous more recently by Peter Mayle in his book ‘A Year In Provence’ and the follow up works surrounding it. If you’ve seen the movie ‘A Good Year’ with Russell Crowe (also based off a book authored by Peter Mayle), it was filmed in this region. I got to see my first lavender fields in full bloom! We were especially enamoured of the towns of Lourmarin and Bonnieux. The pictures speak for themselves.
Sun setting on the French countryside, on our drive to ProvenceOur little courtyardExploring the Luberon countrysideBeautiful farmhouseIn the town of LourmarinVillage homeLittle baby olives. Harvest time isn't until November.Looking down from the town of BonnieuxTown of BonnieuxLavender field
We happily drove out of Spain and did a little happy dance once we crossed the border back into France for two reasons: one, because we felt somewhat safer (though France certainly has its rough spots), and two, because we could communicate again! Though my French is weak, I can still communicate. We couldn’t even get through the drive through at McDonald’s in Spain without asking for a translator. I hated it! Larry said, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve never been happier to see French in my life.”
We headed straight north into the Dordogne region of France, which lies in the slightly southwest portion of the country, south of Limoges and east of Bordeaux. It is the region known for foie gras, prehistoric cave paintings, gorgeous green valleys, and cliff towns. I’ve always wanted to see it. I booked a room for us at an old farmhouse turned inn just outside of Rocamadour, a beautiful cliff town that has been in existence for many centuries. It grew up around the tomb of Saint Amadour, whose perfectly preserved body was found in 1166 in a tomb carved into the side of the mountain. Since that time it became a pilgrimage site for Christians seeking miracles. Jacques Cartier and his team, suffering from scurvy, visited in the 16th century to seek a cure for their ills.
The road to Rocamadour is a long, windy road that cuts up and down through the mountains. When we finally rounded the road that brought Rocamadour into view, we were practically speechless. This is a town that defies gravity, and has done so for centuries. It’s just beautiful. We found our hotel and checked in before spending the evening wandering the nearly empty streets (like Mont St. Michel – it’s more a daytime destination for tour buses but you have the place to yourself at night), up to the chapels and the site of St. Amadour’s tomb, and finished it off by a late pizza dinner on a terrace overlooking the side of the cliff. It was magical.
Rodamadour, FranceApproaching RocamadourOur cute little hotelExploring the townLooking upClimbing the Grand Escalier towards the chapelEntrance to the chapelThe back of the chapel is the rockThis building was my favorite - it literally looks like it's going to drop off the side of the cliff!Night shot of the town from across the valleyAnother night shot
The next day we spent some time at the chateau which sits at the very top of the cliff and looks down over Rocamadour and the valley. Here Larry earned the cheers of onlookers as he rigged up his camera to a railing with a gorillapod, set the 20 second timer, and ran down a very long, steep flight of stairs to get in position before the timer went off.
The applause getting acrobatic shot - yes we are the specks out at the end of the ramp
We were truly winging this part of the trip but it worked out perfectly. We discovered we were only about an hour away from Sarlat-la-Canéda, the best preserved medieval town in all of France. It has more perfectly preserved 14th and 15th century buildings than any other. Just beyond it is Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac, which is surrounded by caves containing prehistoric carvings and paintings, some of the best preserved in the world. Literally hundreds if not thousands of these caves have been discovered in southern France and northern Spain. The most famous cave, that at Lescaux, has actually been closed to the public for a number of years because the changes in humidity, temperature, etc. brought by all the visitors were ruining the paintings. They have created a complete replica nearby – but who wants to see a replica? We did discover however, that the Font-de-Gaume cave is just outside Les Eyzies and is the last cave open to the public that contains polychromatic paintings (i.e. mixing more than one color). They only allow 120 visitors per day, in groups of 12, and are booked months in advance. However, we lucked out and were able to get a ticket for the very next day.
We drove along the road to Beynac-et-Cazenac, another gorgeous cliff town set next to the Dordogne River. Beautiful vistas across the valley.
Town of Beynac-et-CazenacLooking down over the valley from the chateau at BeynacTown of Beynac
We had dinner in Sarlat surrounded by 14th and 15th century buildings. It was like being the middle of a Renaissance village at Disneyland or something, except it was all real. Being in foie gras country, we couldn’t avoid a menu with some form of foie gras on it. I like foie gras but am not normally a massive fan. It’s usually so rich and strong tasting that after about two bites I’m done. Regardless, we did try some foie gras made from duck (the traditional foie gras is goose) and I have to say it was heavenly, so buttery and creamy. I ate it all.
Town of SarlatSitting down to dinner in Sarlat
The next day we spent at two different caves, the Font de Gaume and Les Combarelles, where I gained a new appreciation for prehistoric caveman paintings. These are no stick figures scratched or painted into the side of the cave by prehistoric men who could barely rub two sticks together to create fire. When you see these up close and understand the complexity of their construction and the artistry that it involved, you are truly awestruck. These men used techniques that were not seen again in Europe until the Renaissance. They used perspective. They used cubism, made famous in our time by Picasso. The paintings in the Font de Gaume literally covered the cave from top to bottom. It is truly a reverent experience to see them in person. Nearly all of the carvings or paintings are of animals, most commonly bison or deer, but also wooly mammoth, lion, and others. They are also always in peaceful positions: resting next to each other, grooming each other. There are no representations of hunting or fighting. There are only a couple of instances of human representation (involving male/female relations and the female anatomy – some things do not change!). Truly, if you are ever in the area, you must find a way to see the Font de Gaume especially. It was one big WOW.
Of all the highlights and beautiful scenery we saw while in the Dordogne, I have to say one of Larry’s highlights was the following: While driving through the countryside we passed some serious-looking cyclists. Whether they were training for the upcoming Tour de France, or whether they were just serious recreational cyclists, I don’t know. Regardless, as we passed them, Larry rolled down the window and said “Lance Armstrong.” They responded with their middle fingers. Larry laughed all the way down the road. I must admit, so did I.
And finally, I get to see all the fairy tale French chateaus in person. I’ve been waiting a long time to see Chambord and Chenonceau particularly. The pictures here speak for themselves so I won’t spend a lot of time on the details. We spent a wonderful week in the town of Chinon in the west end of the Loire region. Chinon has a very large chateau overlooking the city and is most famous as the place that Joan of Arc came to meet with Charles VII about her visions, who then granted her permission to leave with the army to Orleans. And the rest, as they say, is history. There isn’t much left of the chateau at Chinon today, unfortunately.
We absolutely love our little hotel in Chinon. I found it thanks to a friend who sent me an article from Budget Travel about their favorite secret hotels in the Loire Valley. We chose the Hotel Diderot, an inn set in a 15th century building owned and run by Laurent Dutheil and his two sisters, Martine and Francoise. It is gorgeous from top to bottom, the breakfasts are out of this world, and the hosts could not have been more gracious.
Hotel Diderot, Chinon, FranceJust a few of the many homemade jams at breakfast
Over the next several days we spent time at some of the more famous of the ~80 chateaus in the Loire Valley, including Chenonceau, Chambord, Amboise, and Villandry. You will probably recognize the pictures of Chenonceau and Chambord, as they are the most famous of the Loire Valley chateaus.
Villandry is known for its amazing gardens – the chateau and gardens have been owned and maintained by the same Spanish family for many generations now, and they are incredible. One of my favorite parts was the cardamom flavored ice cream sold from the cart out front. I loooove cardamom, I could bathe in it.
Chateau Villandry and some of its gardensLarry jumping into one of my shots, as usualPlace setting in the dining roomImagine having this view from your bedroomAww, even heart shaped hedgesIn the gardens at Villandry
We were a bit disappointed in Chenonceau only because they are undertaking an external restoration and half of it was covered in scaffolding. How dare they ruin our pictures! The inside of the chateau is in amazing shape though. Chenonceau has a funny history. Given to the Diane de Poitiers, the mistress of Henry II, as a gift, it was then taken from her after Henry’s death by his wife, Catherine de Medici. Catherine then made this her favorite chateau, adding her own gardens and throwing lavish parties for the elite of France. France’s first fireworks were shown at Chenonceau. Chenonceau also played an important role during World War II as one side of the River Cher was Nazi territory and the other side was Vichy territory. Cheonceau’s grand gallery was used as a means to escape Nazi territory, as the door on the far side opened up to the Vichy territory.
Chateau ChenonceauInside the kitchen at ChenonceauThe Five Queens' Bedroom at ChenonceauIn the gardens at Chenonceau
Chambord was everything I imagined and more. It is the largest of the Loire Valley chateaus with over 400 rooms, 84 staircases, and 300 fireplaces, and is set in a park that is the size of the entire city of Paris. It does not disappoint and is a must-see if you are ever in the neighborhood.
Chateau ChambordChateau ChambordFrancois Ist BedroomOne of the 84 staircasesLooking out over the park
We didn’t realize until we started reading up on the area but Leonardo DaVinci is buried at the former royal palace in Amboise. He spent the last 3 years of his life in the Loire Valley. At the invitation of King Francis 1st, he traveled by mule over the Alps from Italy with two of his apprentices in tow, carrying with him his 3 favorite paintings, one of which was the Mona Lisa. King Francis gave Leonardo the nearby Clos de Luce to live in (connected to the royal palace by an underground tunnel). Popular legend has it that King Francis was with Leonardo and holding his head in his arms when he died. Leonardo was then buried in the Chapel of St. Hubert at the royal palace. Unfortunately the chapel was mostly destroyed during the French Revolution. It was not until several years later when Napoleon III hired an engineer and architect to restore and rebuild parts of the original Chateau at Amboise that they discovered a sepulchre with a complete skeleton along with some of the letters of Leonardo’s name. After researching they determined that this was the body of Leonardo DaVinci and they put him in a proper sepulchre in the newly rebuilt chapel at the royal chateau. We were shocked to discover that not only was DaVinci not buried in Italy, but that his grave had been done such great disservice.
Royal Palace at Amboise from across the riverChapel where Leonardo DaVinci is buriedAnd there he isInside the Palace at AmboiseRoyal bedroom inside the Palace at AmboiseLooking down onto the charming town of AmboiseClos de Luce, Leonardo's last home
I can’t remember exactly when I first saw a picture of Mont St. Michel. But I do know that ever since I have seen a picture of it, it has been on my life’s list of things to see. Mont St. Michel lies on the northwestern coast of the country, and is about 3 hours from Paris by car. Many of you will recognize the pictures – it is an iconic sort of place, very memorable because it is so unique, and unforgettable once you visit.
Mont St. Michel
Mont St. Michel used to be an island that was only reachable from the mainland at low tide. Because of modern work done in the surrounding area to create pasture land, and the canalisation of the nearby Cousenon River, the bay has now silted up, which allows Mont St. Michel to be reached by a causeway at all times. It is a tiny little rock of an island dominated by the Mont St. Michel Abbey, which has existed in some form in that spot for over 1,000 years. A town grew up around the abbey and now it is a place one can spend winding through the tiny little streets and alleys, exploring the shops (all geared toward tourist fare) and touring the enormous abbey.
Mont St. Michel is so small it has only a few tiny hotels and auberges, and as such most visitors are day-trippers only who leave at night for the mainland. Larry and I arrived around 7 pm just as the traffic had cleared out for the night, which was lucky on our part. We parked our car in a lot that was labeled “The sea does not cover here today.”
The famous Mere Poulard
As we headed just inside the city gate, we saw Mere Poulard’s restaurant, a Mont St. Michel legend for her cookies and goodies, but especially for her omelettes. She began serving them in the early 20th century and became so famous for them that many heads of state, celebrities, and other notable figures throughout history have visited her restaurant. (Mere Poulard fed the Allied leaders her omelettes after the Normandy invasion.) As we passed the doorway we heard the melodic clanging of eggs being whipped into a frenzy in copper bowls by staff dressed in what has to be the original style of Mere Poulard’s restaurant uniforms.
Mere Poulard’s website offers a video demonstration of the making of these famous omelettes. First the eggs are whipped into a frenzy in a cold copper bowl, yolks and whites being whipped separately, and then incorporated together with that famous Norman cream and butter. Next they are put into a copper frying pan and set into an open fire where they are cooked until brown on the bottom and then folded onto a waiting plate. It’s very fun to watch, and they leave the door to the kitchen open to the street so all visitors can stop and see the action first hand.
Whipping up those famous omelettes
We made our way up the narrow cobblestone street to the little auberge we had booked for the night and headed straight back to Mere Poulard’s. Being the omelette lovers that we are, we just had to try them. Not to mention the fact that our cab driver on the way to the airport had said “You must have Mere Poulard’s omelettes and lamb, you will never forget it!”
Let’s just say that Mere Poulard’s progeny have figured out how to capitalize on their famous ancestor’s name. The restaurant is as pricey as some of the nicer New York restaurants we’ve been to. They offer several prix fixe menus, the featured prix fixe involving an omelette and her famous lamb. It’s a lot of money to pay for some fluffy eggs. But, our motto is to try everything once. Unfortunately the omelette was not to my liking. I guess I don’t like egg foam omelettes. They are MASSIVE, though mostly air, and they taste very different from what you’ve come to expect in a regular omelette. Larry said, “It tastes just like butter-flavored egg-flavored air.” They are brought to the table wobbling on a huge plate with any accompanying filling actually served in its own dish on the side. I ordered mine with bacon and potatoes, which came out in a pool of that delicious Norman cream. Oh yeah, this is low fat cooking up here. The lamb was actually delicious, which is a lot for me to say because I don’t normally like lamb. After having paid more for our dinner than we did for our hotel room, we spent the rest of the night wandering the nearly empty streets and taking pictures of the town, the abbey, and the bay.
Walking the quiet nighttime streets of Mont St. MichelLooking up at the abbeyClimbing up the rockSkyline of the abbey
We woke up the next morning and discovered that Mont St. Michel is Disneyland during the daytime. Mobs upon mobs of tourists descend upon the rock and every souvenir and trinket you can think of is being sold to them, along with overpriced sodas and food. Let’s face it – Mont St. Michel’s economy is tourism. There is nothing else. Nevertheless, we enjoyed exploring a bit more, eating Breton crepes for breakfast, and touring the abbey.
Disneyland daytime at Mont St. MichelIn the cloisters at the abbeyInside the oldest part of the abbey
The main structure of the abbey has been there since the tenth century. Other parts were eventually added on and it has largely existed in its present form since the 15th century. It is a massive structure and took us the better part of the day to tour. I always love running my hands along walls and stepping on floors that someone’s hand laid so long ago – in this case over 1,000 years ago. It’s mind boggling.
If you ever find yourself going to Mont St. Michel, I highly recommend spending the night on the island so you can truly enjoy it away from the tour bus day trippers.
Sunday was time to say our final goodbyes to our little apartment in Paris and hit the road. Although we didn’t feel like we acquired all that much in the way of worldly goods while in Paris, somehow our bags did not want to hold everything. We are still refining the art of packing light. It’s a fine line to walk when you have so many months to plan for and so many different climates to deal with (we had to pack for everything from Iceland to the Mediterranean after all). Needless to say I’m very, very glad we decided to get a car. I can’t imagine dealing with all of our stuff while trying to negotiate trains.
After finally closing up shop and saying goodbye to our apartment, we lumbered downstairs with our awkward luggage and Larry ran to fetch a cab. We had to pick our new car up at the airport and made the wise decision to take a cab there. Taking the train out there would have been no fun. Larry said 10 cabs passed him by before one finally stopped (he must have had the “I’m American” sign on his shirt). The cab driver was extremely kind, spoke English fluently, and was very helpful when Larry accidentally let the front gate shut behind him, leaving part of our luggage locked behind it and out of our reach. As the gardienne (caretaker) was out for the day, we pushed every door buzzer until someone answered, and the cab driver said “I’m with two stupid Americans who left their luggage in the driveway”. OK, he didn’t actually say “stupid”. He was a great guy who told us a story about when he want to the US with a buddy many years ago, bought a clunker, and took 3 months driving all the way across the country and then back again. What a great adventure!
We arrived at Charles de Gaulle and managed to negotiate ourselves and our things inside where we called the Peugeot desk to come pick us up. Because we had already filled out lots of paperwork ahead of time, I was surprised at how simple the process was and how quickly it was over with. It took less time to check in and get the keys to our new car than it does to rent a car in the US.
Thus within a few minutes we were loading ourselves and our things into our new little silver Peugeot hatchback. We hadn’t known ahead of time what color we would get – but I called it. For some reason at least 3 out of 4 cars on the road in France are silver. It only had 5 kilometers on the odometer when we got into it. Now that’s a new car! As we drove away and jumped on the autoroute to head to Mont St. Michel, Larry pointed out that this was our first new car together, and we both laughed at how peculiar it seemed that our first new car was a Peugeot in France. Yet, I am not surprised at all, it fits our lives perfectly.
