Pictures from Van Gogh Day

Van Gogh for a Day

Woke up to a crystal clear day – perfect for another Market and the former home of Van Gogh – Arles. I took the train (18 minutes as opposed to 70 on the bus) and arrived to find the Wednesday market in full swing. This market may actually win the prize for best all around market – not only was the food magnificent (with about three bio stands), and the largest peppers I have ever seen, but also the non-food items were for real people. There were plenty of made-in-China goods, which I have come to accept are appealing to the French, just as they are to Americans, because they are cheap. There were also true bargains to be had – a rummage sale where prices ranged from 1.50 to 10 Euros per item, which was like heaven for this bargain-hunter. There were exotic foods, spices and other goods catering to Arles’ North African population. The market was vast, and full of people – locals mostly. I saw very few tourists.
At the end of the market I made my way around to the various Roman ruins Arles has to offer – an ancient amphitheater currently undergoing restoration, and an arena - coliseum style like the one in Nimes. These Roman remains seemed less commercial and glossy than the ones in Nimes. The amphitheater particularly felt like you were at an archeological site. I wandered through the beautiful cobbled streets of the old town. I don’t know what it is about Arles – something about the light maybe – but I wanted to take pictures at every turn. It has a good vibe – a good size, funky, yet old and magnificent at the same time. I could see why Van Gogh, or anyone for that matter, would want to spend some extended time there.
I stopped in for a brief peek into the Van Gogh Foundation which does not have any Van Gogh paintings. Fortunatey this had been made clear in all the literature I had read so I had no expectations. I browsed and bought a couple of postcards, then returned to my meandering and picture taking.
I had my first wheat in France, a baguette rubbed with fresh garlic made into a sandwich with chevre, tomatoes, basil, avocado, olives and fresh olive oil, all wrapped in paper for 4 Euros at the fab and funky Fad Oli: Restaurant and Huiles d’Olive. Fad Oli is just two steps up a side street off the square – Place du Forum - where Van Gogh’s Yellow Café was painted and where there is now a café of the same name.
Around the corner from the square and Fad Oli is one of the La Vie Claire health food stores at 3 rue du Docteur Fanton. La Vie is closed for lunch, so if you want to buy picnic food there make sure you arrive sometime between 8:30-12:15, or eat late when they reopen at 2:30-7. Otherwise, go to the non-organic, but local and yummy Fad Oli or one of the other cafes in the Place du Forum or surrounding side streets. Or, if you are there on a Wednesday or Sunday, you can buy picnic goodies at the market but plan to arrive well before noon when all the stalls close up.
I happily crisscrossed through the myriad of tiny streets with my camera in hand constantly. I found my church on one of the side streets of Arles – Our Lady of French Buses, or Notre Dame du Les Buses Francais (see photo).
Once back from my very wonderful day in Arles I did my laundry at the local Lavarie which is the winter haven for many alcoholic bums. I made like a French person, said, “Bonjour” and went about my business.
A wonderful day, and I am full of the color and spirit of Arles.

A Roman Day, but no Italians

I headed to the world famous Roman Aqueduct, Pont du Gard, midday, and after my other escapades was watching for the right bus stop carefully. Fortunately there were a number of people with the same destination and the bus driver very kindly turned around and announced that it was the Pont du Gard stop when he realized none of us were disembarking – good thing as who would have guessed that this world-famous site rates an unmarked bus lane on a highway rotary. We all got off and looked around: no signs, no maps, no arrows – you have to love the French. An Australian couple and myself started walking towards the direction we suspected was the right one and the Koreans followed. Sure enough, down the side road there was a huge sign saying “Site Pont du Gard”. I might further add that since it is off-season, you can take a bus to Pont du Gard from Avignon, but not really back since the only bus returning leaves 20 minutes after you arrive which even the Avignon bus station attendant said was too short an interval since it is a 10-15 walk from the bus “stop” to the Pont du Gard. So my itinerary was Avignon to Pont du Gard, then Pont du Gard to Nimes, returning to Avignon from Nimes where there is regular bus and train service to Avignon. There was only one bus from Pont du Gard to Nimes today, but it left more time to tour the site than the bus back to Avignon.
Pont du Gard has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site. It originally spanned over 1000 feet, but some of the arches are gone so it is a little shorter now, but still quite impressive. Standing about 150 feet high, the bridge was part of an aqueduct that brought water from a spring in Uzes to Nimes about 30 miles away. According to the tourist information, the bridge, completed in AD 52, took 1000 men and 50,000 tons of stone to build it (www.pontdugard.fr).
I could tell by the expansive parking lot and walkways that the tourist area around Pont du Gard had been designed for a sea of summer tourists. I could not only imagine the crowds, but also the beating heat. Other than the limited bus schedule, and the gift shops being closed (no great loss), the off-season is a perfect time to visit the monument. There were so few visitors it was down right serene. I was able to hike up a stone-stepped path and meet no one heading up or down. Down by the emerald green water there was only one couple taking in the sun and magnitude of the site.
The cool thing about the site – besides seeing first hand the staggering brilliance of the Roman architects and builders – is that a newer section of the bridge has been built to match the old one, so you can walk across the bridge right next to the ancient aqueduct, getting great views and a close up of the original.
Nervous about the French bus system, I curtailed my visit and walked back to the bus “stop” so I would be there in case the bus came early. I read and reread my information, and had especially asked the Avignon bus-information attendant if I picked up the bus to Nimes at the same place that the Avignon bus dropped me off and she assured me that indeed it was the same stop. The bus was not early, but I was nervous about the stop. There was a schedule inside a glass box with condensation on it, making it hard to read, but it did indeed give the schedule to Nimes that I held in my hand. Somehow I was still nervous. The road signs made me think that the bus would not be coming in the direction of this bus stop. I looked across the road, and sure enough here was a bus with its electronic sign saying “Nimes” stopping not only across the highway, but on the other side of the rotary. I basically stopped traffic and ran across the highway, waving my arms frantically at the bus, knowing that if it didn’t stop I would be stranded on this highway until tomorrow. Thankfully, the bus driver was a kind soul, and he stopped in the middle of the road to let me on. Honestly! How hard would it be for the French bus system to put a sign on the bus stop? Especially the Pont du Gard bus stop!
There and then I decided I would take the train from Nimes to Avignon, not the bus.
It was a short ride to Nimes, a major Roman city in the day. Nimes has two very well preserved Roman buildings. The Arena, which holds 24,000 people, was built in the 1st century for gladiator events. It has been partially restored so that it can be used for present-day bull-fights. The Maison Carree Temple is one of most intact buildings from the Roman Empire and dates to something like AD 4. History oozes from all these sites with deeply worn stone steps and weather beaten walls.
I toured Nimes quickly and took the train back to Avignon – not only did they announce the station stops, but it took half the time of the bus and cost half the price.
At 8pm I made my way to the old Avignon theater in the large square below the Palais du Popes. It was a one-night run of the opera La Boheme, which seemed appropriate to see while in France. My 20 Euro ticket got me a seat in the bleachers way at the top of the theater. The seats in this section are not numbered and are just carpeted steps, so it is first come, first choice, which makes a huge difference since at least two thirds of the seats have very limited views of the stage. I had arrived as soon as the doors had opened so from my seat I could see over half of the stage. There was camaraderie amongst those of us with limited views, as we craned our necks and backs to see the action – a great French experience. Bon Soir from Avignon.

Market Hopping

It seems hard to believe I have been in France only just over a week. In this time I have gone to eight markets. The clear winners are the two Sunday markets – the food and flower market in Nice; and the combination food, artisan, brocante, and miscellany market in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.
I had heard and read that the Saturday market in Apt was large and great – well large it was, but not so great. Apt is a small city with a fairly limited old part that is not particularly remarkable, certainly not next to the likes of Avignon and Lourmarin. I suspect that in-season, the market has more to offer, but this time of year there was food, but only one tiny bio stand, and all the rest was filled with one stall after another selling plastic and polyester products not made in France. By combing every turn and back street, I did turn up one man selling herbs, essential oils and hydrosols from “sauvage” herbs (wild grown) – he was lovely but looked a little “sauvage” himself. I also found lavender honey being sold by a local beekeeper. That was the total sum of the really local products stalls. Since I had woken up at 5:30 to catch the bus to Apt for the market I was slightly disappointed. (The first picture on this post is Avignon in the morning, not the night!)
During Lavender season (June-August), Apt is the jumping off point for many of the “lavender routes” which run through the area highlighting lavender farms and distilleries. Alas, I was there on a frosty January morning – no beautiful lavender walks to be had.
All was not lost. The other sites I was looking for in Apt – of interest to painters and color enthusiasts - were two stores that sell natural ochre from the nearby famous ochre deposits in Roussillon, Rustrel and Gargas.
The Society of the Ochres of France is up the street about a third of a mile from the tourist office (526 av. Victor Hugo – www.ocres-de-france.com), but alas they are closed Saturday mornings in the winter which even the woman at the tourist office did not realize until I told her when I returned to find out if the other store was open and where I might find it. She kindly called Ets. Chauvin, on Route de Viton, (http://www.ocreschauvin.fr) before I walked the 1km to find it. I was delighted that they were indeed open. Ets Chauvin is a small, funky warehouse-style store with sacks of natural and synthetic powdered colors lining the walls and displays. The woman was very nice, but did not speak English. I wanted the sampler of local, natural ochres which I managed to convey with my charade skills.
After walking non-stop for four hours in the frosty morning, I was happy to board the bus back to Avignon.
Since the Apt market had been a disappointment, I almost bagged my plans to head to Isle-sur-la-Sorgue for the Sunday morning market, assuming I would just see more of the same. Fortunately for this market lover, I decided to go anyway since nothing else would be going on in Avignon on Sunday morning. The bus left at a more reasonable time – 9:30 - and it was a much warmer day. The bus route was different than my last two excursions to Apt and Lourmarin, it took a northeasterly route through a clearly more wealthy area – the towns of Chateauneaf du Gadagne and Le Thor – dramatic old stone villages with Plane-Tree lined roads and even some speed bumps.
Isle-sur-la-Sorgue was beautiful – the old part of the village is surrounded by a little river hence the “Isle” part of the name. The market is held on both sides of the river with bridges crossing between the two sides about every 150 feet. Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is known for their year round antiques, second hand (brocantes) stores and market and they don’t disappoint.
The goods were all of a much higher quality than any I had seen in prior markets and all at fair prices for what they were selling. I did succumb and buy an old blue and white enamel house number sign since they had my number. I later learned that I had gotten a very good deal on it since they have become trendy in the UK and sell for quite a bit there.
I strolled happily for hours with the many others – local and foreign – enjoying all there was to see. Besides the quality brocantes, there were actually products made in France at this market as well as plentiful food. There were two stalls selling clothing made in Nepal with unusual clothing designs and providing good conditions for the Nepalese workers.
People were in cheery moods and the market was quite busy, so walking was more of a shuffle than a stride. The downside to any of these markets is that there are beggars and people trying to get you to give them money for their dogs. Pickpockets are also alive and well. I was stunned by how quiet people can be. I was sitting by the river eating my sautéed vegetables from one of the vendors and as I was turning to get up, I was startled by a young man who had sat down close to me, whom I had not heard or sensed at all. I checked my pockets as I walked away – thankfully I have a lot of zippered pockets in my jacket which are very handy. So as not to call attention to myself I have tended to take pictures with my pocket camera instead of my larger SLR, which screams tourist.
The bus driver between Avigon and Isle-sur-la-Sorgue had on a radio station playing an eclectic selection of tunes from Bob Marley, Beatles, Bluegrass, French contemporary, and really bad English-spoken bubble gum music – the French seem to love that – what is with that?
After regrouping at my Hotel I went out to do what everyone else was doing on a sunny Sunday afternoon in Avignon – walking through the park. Old and young were out taking in the day, flowers were blooming and the cafes in the square were bustling.
French women live up to their reputation – even the not incredibly beautiful ones are beautiful – how do they do that? Is it the water or the wine? The only small consolation I took was that since all the French women are so beautiful, no one will hassle unglamorous old me schlepping around in my winter overcoat looking 15 pounds heavier than I am because of my full pockets, and with two pairs of glasses on – one pair on my eyes, the other sitting on my forehead ready to read something at a moments notice. Really – I am surprised no one has offered me money yet. ☺