On y Va!
The breakfast in our little hotel was amazing this morning. Packed into just a tiny room was a huge array of goodies to choose from. My favourites were the make-your-own-crepes station and the make-your-own-tea bag set-up, where you could scoop leaves from a range of tea canisters into little empty tea bags. What a great invention!
Straight after breakfast, we hit the road, with Ross at the wheel (thank goodness!) Ross did an amazing job, adapting so quickly to driving on the opposite side of the road. The French roads are a festival of roundabouts with multiple exits and if it doesn’t already feel unnatural enough, entering to the right, a quick Google of the French road rules revealed you actually give way to your right, not your left as we would have assumed.
Our drive took us past gorgeous beaches, through leafy forests and around twisting bends, some cut through great rocks, with incredible mountain views out the window. A little lookout we spied at the side of the road in the Fôret Communale, had sweeping vistas all the way across a vast valley to the Massif des Maures mountain range. It reminded me of the Blue Mountains and was so pretty.
At times today, we had to double check the GPS to ensure the roads were in fact 2-way, because they were insanely narrow. With dramatic drop-offs on both sides of the road, and in the absence of any guard rails (one section did have a flimsy looking coppers log fence) we prayed we wouldn’t meet too many oncoming cars and accidentally end up on the valley floor.
Nature called after we”d been travelling a little while and as luck would have it, we spotted a petrol station up ahead. When we politely enquired whether we could “utilise his toilettes”, the guy at the counter gave us a resigned, “oh ooh-kayy”, dropped shoulders, pointed to the rest room and looked sad. That’s when we noticed the giant STAFF ONLY signs on the door. Good to know for next time.
After a few stops to look around, our first real destination was the charming little town of Bormes-les Mimosas, dating back to at least 1056. Listed as one of France’s most beautiful (“plus beaux”) villages, it’s renowned for its gardens, which amazingly feature lots of Australian plants and trees (including some very familiar looking weeds we battle in our own backyard!). Little character-filled houses with terracotta roof tiles - a uniform pale apricot colour - were draped with green vines and clumped together in a labyrinth of little laneways, time-worn steps and arches, with cute, colourful oversized cane flowers and baskets strung across the streets and hanging in the trees. Perched on a hill, the village had a beautiful view of the sea. We enjoyed some fresh baguettes at a cute cafe and after a stroll around town, decided to hit the road again.
A few frustrating wrong turns added a little time to our trip but we arrived in beautiful Avignon, in the heart of Provence, checking into our hotel, just in time for a special dinner I’d booked for us.
Housed in the historic hotel, La Mirande, which was once home to Avignon’s cardinals, I’d read about this incredible dining experience. We arrived on time, not really knowing what to expect, and were ushered down a concrete spiral staircase hidden in the wall, into the bowels of the medieval part of the hotel and a big dining area, surrounded by gorgeous modern artworks, bookcases and giant casement windows opening to an old-fashioned kitchen. It reminded me of the servants’ quarters in Downton Abbey!
Along with 10 other diners, we were first taken into a little cellar room, where they had over 700 bottles of wine gently aging away on racks. Behind a closed door was the “really good stuff”, which we were allowed to peep at briefly, kept cool by the river running alongside the building. A quick history briefing (there’s a well in the building from 299BC!) and some introductions around the group were accompanied by a crisp, cold glass of rose and a delicious little plate of goat’s cheese, figs and honey.
Next we were invited to sit at an enormous, exquisitely laid wooden table, amongst the copper pans and shelves of spices in earthen wear jars, right in the heart of the kitchen! The jolly, very French chef, in his starched white chef gear, talked us through what he was cooking (on his wood-only stove that pre-dated the Eiffel Tower!)
Amongst our fellow diners was a French family of truffle farmers, with whom I could practice my French (I got to see lots of photos of truffles and dogs) and 3 American couples- one on their honeymoon, one from Atlanta and the other from New York. New York Barry was a character and was responsible for making loads of US tv shows. Though he was too modest to list them all, they did include Judge Judy, and he boasted that through his shows, he single-handedly lowered the collective American IQ by at least 10%.
The food, wine, company and atmosphere were just brilliant and as we sat beneath the candelabra, munching on roast pork and syrupy apples, we knew it would be a night to remember.
The town was overflowing with people as we walked back to our hotel, a rock concert to celebrate the harvest, in full-swing in the town square. It was such a great atmosphere.
Back at our hotel now and our aircon has a similar velocity and decibel level to a jumbo jet at take off, causing our whole room to vibrate so could be in for an interesting night…
