Provence & Cote d'Azur - The villages

When one speaks of Provence, in their mind, one sees small bucolic villages, fresh food markets, wicker baskets, a riot of colourful blooms tumbling out of window-sills and creeping up old stone farmhouses.  After our visit, part of me wants to attest that those rustic images really exists.  The other part is not sure what I saw in those heat-induced bouts of hallucination when I was not playing hide-and-seek with the dogged sun.

There was simply no refuge.  The sun was out at full force from 8am to 8pm.  Provence has several small ranges of mountains/hills, but it also has vast plains of flat fields.  In the afternoons, while driving from one small village to another, we were roasting in our car, browning perfectly.  And while walking around the villages, we were basting in our sweat, wonderfully seasoned by dinnertime.

Sorry, I digressed.

Back to the villages.  We visited too many to care, but here are some worth mentioning.

Amongst many other things, Provence is famous for its perched villages.  Houses and dwellings are built at the edge of rocky cliffs and mountains.  It makes for a very dramatic entrance as you approach them from the plains and valleys, gazing up their precarious locations, seemingly lording over the area.  Castles or lookout towers were built at the highest points of these villages in the past for defence purposes.   

View from the top of the 12th century castle in Le Barroux.  

Le Barroux is one of these villages with a castle at its peak.  The village was almost deserted in the early afternoon, and we wandered aimlessly and freely through its maze of shaded narrow cobbled streets lanes.  This is a pleasant change from some of the overcrowded, tourist-infected villages that we visited.  Aside from the lone shopkeeper we saw while leaving the village, the only other people we came across were another French tourist family, with whom we exchanged sly smiles as if we were sharing a secret.  

The panorama from the top was ... what's the best word?  Inspiring.  Not breath-taking, not sensational, not world-changing, but simply inspiring.  That is why many artists, painters, craftsmen choose to live in Provence: for the inspiration.  That's good enough for me.

    

And if inspiration runs low, you can take a break in your rustic yard, and start again tomorrow.  

The kids were having the time of their lives, trying to outrun each other, and generally generating the kind of din that makes local Provencal folks hate the tourists who overrun their calm villages every summer :)

Now I must tell you about some of these tourist-infested villages.  Obviously there are good reasons why tourists flock there.  They are pretty, they are charming, and they are probably listed on the les plus beaux villages de France roll (the most beautiful villages in France).  These are some 150 villages deemed to be preserving the essence of traditional village life, and the list is maintained to ensure French villages do not turn into "soulless museums or theme parks".  

(By the way, this passion for heritage and tradition and concerted effort to preserve them is the answer to YL's persistent question, "Why can't small towns in Malaysia like Sungai Siput or Tapah be a tourist attraction like here"?)  

Gordes is one such pretty face.  It has all the typical ingredients for a typical Provencal village - tight narrow lanes, cobblestones, a small village square with a fountain, tiny locally-owned shops and producers, etc.  What fascinated YL is the glow that is reflected from the beige stone houses and buildings.

...this glow...

Getting some breakfast at a boulangerie (bakery) in Gordes

This boy really loves his croissant.  Look at the genuine pleasure in his face. 

Note on a local fruit shop: "Our job: Every day and all year-round, we select seasonal products each morning from local producers."  See what I mean about fresh food? 

The kids choosing their cherries for our snack

Forget it YL, you will never get a "normal" smile out of them. 

Gordes at night, overlooking the valley underneath.

There was also Venasque, which seems to be an magnet for potters, but unfortunately all the shops were closed for their afternoon siesta when we were there for lunch.  There was a weekly crafts market that was supposed to start at 3pm, but when we left at 3:20pm, the vendors were more energetic about greeting each other and exchanging kisses and catching up on the latest gossips than setting up their wares.  So we never got to see how good they are. 

Mougins is supposed to be a gastronomic mecca with the most number of Michelin-starred restaurants per Porsche (I'm kidding, but you know what I mean).  We had lunch there at a Michelin-wannabe, and conclusively decided that we're not Michelin people.  We don't want two mussels dipped in seawater and aired in a jasmine garden to be our appetizer.  We don't want a stick of caramelised spring onion glazed with hibiscus powder served as our main course.  (I am only half-making this up.)  And we don't want to pay a whole week's worth of groceries for them.   

We also don't have the excess funds to buy anything from their art galleries......So why did we come to Mougins again?

A sketch on a wall

Apparently many rich Parisians have their summer/weekend homes here

And here's a Provencal village with a little bit of difference: Roussillon.  Also one of the les plus beaux villages de France, its claim to fame is colour.  Ochre, to be specific.  The village is situated next to an old ochre quarry, and many of its buildings are red, bright yellow or orange in colour.  Sorry, there are no good pictures of the town or of the colour "conservatory" in the old ochre factory to post.  

The old quarry.  It's that bright, and it's not the sun...

  

The walk round the quarry and surrounding woods takes 30-50 minutes.  

 

Needless to say, we were orange and yellow all over by the end of our walk.  Our sandals are still orange today.

Lest you be mislead that Provence is all beauty and perfection, I must clarify that it has its fair share of the ugly and the forgettable.   

YL often commented that the roads remind him of those drives to the small towns in Malaysia.  You can't tell from this picture whether we are in Malaysia or France, can you?

There are ghost towns in Provence, too...