Fontaine de Vaucluse - a Jewel in the Mountains

In any list of the most important inventions ever, the printing press and our old buddy, Johannes Gutenberg, almost always get top billing.  THE most important. . . but did you ever think what Johan would have done if no one had invented paper??  Up until that time, most books were hand-made using vellum or some form of flax or linen or whatever - certainly not practical if you're going to get into producing books on your spanking new press.  

When Gutenberg invented the printing press in the mid-1500's (dates vary), there were approximately 20,000 books in the known world.  Fifty years later, at the turn of the century, there were 10,000,000!!  Somebody had to come up with paper - a whole lot of it - and here at Vaucluse we learned about the ancient art of paper making.  They've been making paper here for centuries, and the process is absolutely fascinating.

And it's not all that different from paper-making today - but a whole lot less smelly (if you've ever lived or traveled in the rural American South, you know what I mean).  You start with wood (usually a soft variety), which is pounded into pulp, dried, strained, and pulverized into a fine slurry mix that can be put onto a wire grid, dried, and peeled off!  Simple enough, right?  Sure beats skinning a cow, tanning the hide, then somehow peeling off a thin layer without tearing it, and cutting it to size.

But I get ahead of myself.  Vaucluse is an ancient site (but still a thriving town) where paper has been made commercially since the late 15th century.  Now, of course, it's ornamental/artisanel paper but the original mill still operates in the same old way, powered by water (which flows at an astonishing 35 cubic meters per second) . . .

. . . which is diverted over a wheel . . . 

. . . which drives another set of wheels . . . .

. . . which power a series of wooden pistons which pound away at the paper pulp (think 'kapockata, kapockata, kapockata').

Photographs inside the paper museum were forbidden, but we did get to watch a craftsman dipping a screen form (about 12"square) into a barrel of slurry, gently moving the slurry over the screen, removing the excess water, setting the screen to dry for less than a minute, and then peeling off a gorgeous, hand-made piece of paper.  10,000,000 books?  No problem!

This town goes back to the Romans, authenticated by the fact that Roman coins have been found in the tidal pools way up this mountain.

We hike up . . .

The pool with Roman coins is at the very bottom of this rock face, but I was not about to climb over the barrier to check it out!

Then this lovely surprise - the Church of St.Vernan.  St. Who??  Turns out he was a local hermit and revered by the locals and canonized sometime around the 12th century.  Based on the height of this doorframe, we figure he was also a very short guy (but I guess pretty much everyone in those days was short).

The sarcophagus with his remains . . .

A Roman column from the original structure . . .circa 3rd century AD.

And one of our favorite structures, a museum built into the rock.

And no day of French touring is complete without a photo of our lunch!  Today's fare is a lovely omelet, with salad and French fries.

This is an absolutely delightful town, recommended to us by our host and hostess, Patrice and Laurence.  Thank you - we've loved our visit here.

The Saintes Maries de la Mer

Directly south of Arles is an area of Provence known as the Camargue.  I'd stumbled on some information about its history and was intrigued to know more.  Most of it is a Parc Naturel (Nature Park) - protected and inaccessible - with a very popular seaside resort at its eastternmost tip, Saintes Maries de la Mer.

Three Marys (including the Magdalene and two close relatives of Jesus and his mother) fled Judea in the early part of the first century because of persecution and landed here at the mouth of the Rhone.  Disciples followed shortly thereafter, made their way up the Rhone Valley, and this part of France was the first to convert to Christianity.  The Marys remained here and converted the local folk including members of a tribe of dark-skinned people, now believed to be Roma.  Their chief was a woman named Sara, and she led the move to Christianize her tribe.

Current day gypsies revere Saint Sara and each year, in May and October, gypsies from all over the region gather here to pay homage to her.  The ceremonies include a reenactment of their arrival and an elaborate procession of the reliquaries from the local church.  We're disappointed the church is closed, and we missed the October festivities by a week!

The beach at Sts Maries . . .

The Parc is a birdwatchers paradise; the flamingoes are totally impervious to our presence and we're surprised at their quasi-whiteness . . .

One of the reasons I was intrigued by the Camargue were the bands of wild horses, most of them this pure white.  They are protected - much like the ponies of Chincoteague on Maryland's eastern shore - although many of them have been domesticated and form the core of Camargue tourism:  horseback rides through the parc.

We were stunned by their beauty!

A little dapple grey mixed in there . . .

A quick stop at one of the riding establishments and an attempt to photograph the local tack.  (A two-hour walk at 40 euros each doesn't grab either of us.)  Most of it appears to be some sort of local hybrid design with a heavy English/Australian influence.  Note the American western saddle on the right (John Wayne lives in the south of France)!

Before heading home, we decide to visit the other (westernmost) tip of the Camargue and surprise, surprise, we need to take a ferry across the Rhone to get there!  We could drive all the way around but what the heck, this is our first car ferry ride this trip . . .

The ferry holds all of about 10 vehicles and takes about 5 minutes to make the crossing . . . now this is a river!!

Not much to see at this other point:  a big deep water port which we later learn is the new Marseilles.  Seems the dockworkers in Marseilles, just a few km distant, got exceptionally greedy (everybody's unionized in France), and the shippers put up with it for just so long and then said 'Enough!' (in French, of course).  The French government built a new port facility, and all the shippers moved their operations here.

Lovely, lovely day touring the Camargue . . . 

Avignon - Half a Day is Enough

Avignon is a short drive to the north of us, and we decide to take Rick Steves's advice and allot it a half day.  Turns out that was another of his spot on recommendations.  The big attraction is the Palace of the Popes; we're OD'd on palaces by now and content ourselves with a walk-by.

(Why do popes need palaces anyway?)

Just up a bit is a lovely park where we sit,  have a baguette sandwich, and people watch.

This is an odd city.  It appears to be very upscale; lots of expensive shops; even more expensive restaurants (hence, the baguette sandwiches); and a disturbing number of homeless people.  I think that is more distressing to us than anything else . . . we have seen so little of that on this trip.

One of the charming streets as you enter through the gates into the old town.

A little park in the center of town.

One of the best things about being a tourist in Avignon is the free off-site parking and free navettes that drop you right at the city walls.

Check off Avignon - thanks for the tip Rick!  

The Pont du Gard or Nobody Does Aqueducts Like the Romans

You could probably spend months in France and not see all the UNESCO-listed sights.  It is a wonderland of Roman ruins, medieval castles, chateaus, and forts.  Fortunately for us, one of the most famous is only a 45" ride away - the Pont du Gard, the biggest aqueduct ever built by the Romans.  Still intact after nearly 2000 years, the aqueduct is three levels tall, 50 meters high, and 360 meters long.

The aqueduct was part of a 50km system that brought water from Uzes to Nimes, the most important Roman city in the region, over a course that dropped gently and coursed through rock and on elevated channels, most of which are long gone, except for this glorious aqueduct.  To say it is an engineering marvel doesn't begin to do it justice - it is an absolute wonder.

At the Museum exhibit, we learn that those platforms, visible just as the arch begins to curve, were to support the wooden foundations which allowed the masons to maintain consistency in the arches and support the stones until the final center (key) stone was laid in place.

This diagram shows how the aqueduct was constructed, starting at the upper left and finishing on the lower right..

All Roman aqueducts were designed exactly the same and all by military engineers.  With this consistency and uniformity, an engineer could supervise multiple aqueduct projects at the same time.

All the stones  were quarried nearby but only the arch stones were mortared using a formula (given in the Museum exhibit and developed by Vitruvius) that looks remarkably like the same formula we used when making and finishing our adobe walls in New Mexico!

 This is the walkway over the second tier; a once-a-day guided tour takes you across the very top tier (we passed on that as it was a very, very windy day!).

The view from the other side.

In addition to the Museum, there is a botanical garden which includes plants from earliest times, one of which is an olive tree, reputed to be 900 years old (at least that's what we think the French plaque said!)

All this walking, gawking, and learning has given us a healthy appetite so time to tuck into a late lunch!

And the aqueduct spans the Gordon River. . . 

Ahhh . . . Provence!

This year's trip to France was to be with our dear friend, Sue - the three of us renting a house somewhere in Provence where she could paint to her heart's content and Tim and I could complete our post-doctoral degrees in loafing.  Sadly, Sue couldn't make this year's trip, but we assured her we would scope out Provence and narrow down where we will all come, Summer 2016.

Provence is to France what Tuscany is to Italy - the place name everybody recognizes and equates with 'la dolce vita' or life well-lived.  It's easy to see why.  Provence is blest with a lovely, 'Mediterranean' climate which translates into sunny, dry summers and mild winters.  The terrain and terroir (that's French for soil) is perfect for growing grapes, and the towns are achingly picturesque.  Nearly every one could be on a postcard.  As a result, it's 'the' place to vacation and rental prices reflect it.

We stop in the Tourist Information center in St. Remy de Provence and find a lovely, funny attendant who spends a long time with us, trying to match their TI rental listings with our needs.  One rental she dismisses as 'too much' and when Tim says 'What's too much?' she says 2,000 euros - a week!!!!  Yeah sure you betcha that's too much - we just want to rent it, not buy it!  But I get ahead of myself . .

Our current rental (for 9 days) is in a delightful small town called Eyragues (pronounced Ay-rak) which is equidistant from Avignon and Arles, perfect for exploring this part of Provence.  Our host, Patrice, and his wife Laurence, speak wonderful English and are delightful.  Doesn't this look like the archetypical Provencal home?? It even has a pool!

Like most Provencal towns, ours has a market which we are eager to patronize.

One of our first stops is at a booth where a young woman is enthusiastically chopping veggies with a device we've never seen.

Got our attention for sure!  It's probably made in China, but this gadget is irresistible (won't take up much room in our suitcase) and it comes with the most wonderful vegetable peeler.  Now we just need the vegetables . . .

We walk away with green beans, carrots, onions, potatoes, zucchini, pears, tangerines - enough for several meals - and it's just over 2 euros!!

Every meal needs a baguette so we stop at our favorite boulangerie (she makes almond croissants to die for).

Tim is a happy man, in the kitchen, frying up a French delight . . .

Tomorrow, we explore!

The Maritime Museum, Ile de Re, and Poitou Donkeys

One of the joys of having a rental car is that we can look at a map and say 'Let's go there today!' which is exactly what we did on this glorious Sunday morning.  'There' is Ile de Re which is connected to La Rochelle via a 3km bridge and looked like it might be a fun place to see, kind of Rehoboth Beach and the Hamptons, with crepes.  

But first a stop at The Maritime Museum in La Rochelle's harbor.

There is an indoor exhibit of the port's history (all in French so we didn't learn very much) and then a visit aboard a French meteorological research vessel.

After a tour of the crew and officers' quarters, we head for the galley (where else?) and Tim is wowed by the equipment.

Prominently displayed is a menu for Christmas dinner 1967,  complete with the accompanying wines.

On to the bridge where I get to channel my inner captain . . . 

And the view from the prow into the harbor . . . Tim no doubt thinking of his many weeks aboard aircraft carriers.

Off to Ile de Re!  We have no idea where we're going - or even why - it just looks like a neat spot.  The map shows a town near the island's very tip called St. Martin de Re which turns out to be quite the French tourist mecca.  It's a residents only auto zone so we park and walk a short way before coming out into a delightful and scenic town square which immediately reminded both of us of Mykonos, without the pelicans.

Obviously there is a huge tide here as the boats in the marina are accessible at low tide via some challenging steps.

We're drawn to a church just off the square which, like so many in France, looks like it dates back to the 14th or 15th century or perhaps even earlier.

Above, the original, unrestored portion; below, the restored interior which is quite grand.   We're both surprised by the wooden ceiling.

On our drive back to the bridge, I insist Tim come to a screeching halt.  I've just spotted the most remarkable-looking creatures, a herd of Poitou donkeys  (I didn't know that's what they were until I got home and looked them up; I thought this was some kind of weird French yak!).

Wow, talk about a bad hair day!!

There are only 200 of them in the world; 19 of them are on Ile de Re.  They are gentle, sweet, friendly creatures, and no one seems to know where they got their dredlocks or why. Years ago, 'farmers' on the Ile harvested salt from the marshes, and the donkeys were used to transport the bagged salt from the marshes to a drying shed.  The sweetest thing I read was that the farmers' wives were so distressed that the donkeys' legs were being scratched and bitten while in the marshes, they made bloomers for them out of old tablecloths!   

Apparently, there are a couple of times a year when you can saddle up a Poitou and have a ride about (they're as big as mules), complete with bloomers, the donkeys that is!

Au revoir Ile de Re, St. Martin, and donkeys.

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