We have been fortunate that we have been able to travel extensively since retirement, so choosing one place that stands out above all others is hard. I think my choice of Provence is a combination of ancient buildings, beautiful scenery, fascinating history, perfect weather and wonderful food and wine. What more could you ask for? Oh, and staying for a whole week in an amazing 300 year old house!
Imagine a long train journey across France, arriving at Avignon in pouring rain on a Sunday afternoon, picking up a rental car and driving on the “wrong” side of the road to nearby St Remy. Feel the relief mixed with alarm when we are ushered into a very old building with a strange musty smell, the water dripping off our clothes onto the blue and white tiled floor.
Our host leaves us with a bottle of wine, milk and a stack of fuel beside a wood burning stove. Soon we have the fire going and are making inroads into the bottle of wine. However, we have no food, so, seeing that the rain has eased we venture out into the street. Alas, every store appears to be shut. Finally, we find a charcuterie where we can buy terrine, pate, smoked salmon, tiny tomatoes, cheese and crispbreads. Oh, and a bottle of Minervois red wine.
Back at the house, with our feast laid out and a roaring fire, we suddenly feel our spirits rise.
The room was amazing, with a huge stone fireplace above which hung a large bull’s head. A corridor led to a windowless kitchen, lined with stone walls and filled with a huge green dresser and a large dining table. Worn stone steps with a rope railing led to the bedroom with a four-poster bed complete with a roof and curtains. On one wall was huge bookcase, the contents of which I studied carefully. Many of the books were in French or German but I found one in English called “Birdsong” by Sebastian Faulks, which was set around the time of World War One. How appropriate, I thought, as we had just been on a tour of the WW1 Battlefields in France and Belgium. Imagine my surprise when I found the characters Stephen and Isabella actually ran away to St Remy! When we left, the owner kindly gifted me the book as I hadn’t finished it.
Staying in St Remy was like living in a picture book. The grey stone houses with blue shutters were adorned with flowering purple wisteria. Bright pink Judas Trees added colour to the light green spring leaves behind which loomed the barren rocks of the Alpilles.
Nearby at the Monastere St Paul de Mausoleum where Vincent Van Gogh spent some time undergoing psychiatric treatment, masses of purple irises were blooming alongside reproductions of his paintings.
Roman ruins from before and after the birth of Christ stood largely intact. The Glanum Archaeological site was occupied from the 6th or 7th Centuries BC and became a Roman colony around the birth of Christ until 260 AD when Alamannic invasions forced the inhabitants to move to what is now the town of St Remy.
Wednesday was market day so we were up early to see the stalls being set up. The specialties of the region were lavender products, colourful ceramics, white asparagus which is in season and of course the local cheese, processed meat and pink rose wine. As the stores opened we tasted cheese and savoury things on bread and pieces of cake until we had filled our basket with goodies for lunch.
It was such a lovely sunny day that we didn’t fancy eating in our “cave”. The square opposite our front door was used as a car park but it had trees and was surrounded by ancient buildings so what better place to have a picnic. We dragged three chairs outside, brought out the baguette, the jars of pistou rouge and creme d’Ail, the olives and the cheese, two bottles of 1664 and two quiches warmed up in the oven.
I related to a quote in a newspaper article left by one of the previous visitors in our house.
It said, “One of the great pleasures of the siesta is that you wake up twice in the same day, and if it’s a good day and everything’s going right, then you get double the pleasure.”
Well, we enjoyed a nap after our busy morning, in our big, comfy four poster bed, looking through the open window at blue sky, stone buildings and fresh, spring green leaves on the trees before “a brief stretch of blessed afternoon oblivion”. (Thanks to Chris Stewart, The Mail on Sunday)
Tearing ourselves away from St Remy we drove to the villages of Gordes and Roussilon, perched on the top of steep hills and overlooking the valleys below. The Luberon is to the North East of St Remy in the Vaucluse area. After driving through green fields and about 400 roundabouts we began to climb steeply to the village of Gordes. Unexpectedly there was a huge crane in the middle of the medieval village. It was lowering rocks onto a building site which was most probably a renovation or repair. A number of trucks were parked in the street making it difficult to pass even on foot but despite all this the views were breathtaking between the stone houses and the castle built on the rock. The outlook would have been useful for spotting approaching armies or people up to no good.
The next perched village was quite different. Situated near ochre pits, Roissillon has a decided orange glow about it. Again it was high on a mountain top and we had to park before walking up the hill.
Our final town for the day, Goult, had been recommended by Stu Dudley on Trip Advisor, whose notes I was following. He said if he had to live in the Luberon that is the town he would choose. It is far from being touristy and had a calm and peaceful air. It was not as high as the other towns which is why it was probably in better condition. Here we had dessert and coffee before walking around the village and finding a windmill.
Although I had plans to continue the journey to Bonnieux (where Peter Mayle lived, of “A Year in Provence” fame), John said, “let’s call it a day.” He was probably right as trying to visit too many places at once means the last ones are not enjoyed.
Another day and another drive, we were at the Des Baux de Provence, a craggy, ruined castle atop a rugged cliff. The views from the fortification were impressive over beautiful Provence countryside. We climbed some very worn steps to the top after reading warnings to do this at our own risk. From imagining ourselves in Roman times at Glanum we now were in the 16th Century being attacked by Louis XIII because we dared to become Protestants. Huge catapults flung rocks against the stone walls of the castle until they crumbled and we were forced to surrender and flee to the marshy lands of the Camargue.
A longer drive to Longuedoc brought us to the 2000 year old UNESCO World Heritage Site of the Pont du Gard. It is surprisingly intact and even more surprisingly we were allowed to walk across it. Apparently by the 1990s it was full of tourist shops and rather tacky, but now it has been redeveloped, removing vehicular traffic and adding a museum. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Our week was nearly at an end but we had one more thing to look forward to, dinner at Maison Drouot. It was a ten minute walk from home out past the ring road. The building is an 1887 flour mill which used to have a water wheel and still features a rushing stream.
We decided on the Degustation with matching wines. We hadn’t eaten out in St Remy, choosing to cook in our rustic kitchen, so this was going to be a test of the best the town could offer.
Immediately after our arrival we ordered the champagne and almond cocktail. Olives and little loaves of bread appeared. With the same solemnity as if it were wine we were shown a bottle of some local olive oil which was ceremoniously poured in small plates and accompanied by delicious bread. Then came the amuse-bouche. On a bed of asparagus mousse lay raw fish, some roe and oyster flavoured mayonnaise.
Next a leek appeared, grilled to perfection with delicious little spots of sauce and a small pile of very strongly flavoured pasta. However, my favourite dish was asparagus, sweetbreads, onions and almond flakes with a scrumptious sauce. This was followed by tasty fish (halibut I think) with little shellfish. Finally a piece of guinea fowl appeared, accompanied by asparagus, artichoke, artichoke mousse, a cheese wafer and some delicious indescribable sauce.
Dessert was less memorable but the espresso coffee came with little egg like creations which were very tasty.
I won’t tell you what it cost but it met all expectations and we decided we could eat baguettes, pate and cheese for the next week to compensate.
What was it about this restaurant that made it so different to any others we have visited? It was the little dog nearby, perched on its owner’s knees, delicately eating from its own plate at the dining table. Only in France!
The Curry Apple Orchard 