Day Trip: Brussels

Until now, one of the gaping holes in my travel log has been the two weeks I spent backpacking through Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Berlin, Hamburg, and other parts of Germany. With the exception of my recent post about Berlin, these stories have not been told. In my brief pause between epic domestic road trips, I will remedy that.

In May 2010 I met my friend Marc at the airport outside of Paris. Together we traveled for thirteen days through four countries with France-Germany-Benelux Eurail passes. A Eurail pass is a train pass that allows the holder to make an unlimited number of train journeys within a certain country or period of time. The type of pass is chosen based on the number of days of travel and the countries in which it is valid. My friend and I chose the [5 Day - 3 Country] combination pass. We planned to use it to travel from Paris to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Berlin, and then around Germany before heading to the airport in Frankfurt.

To get the most out of our passes, we decided to extend our layover in Belgium between Paris and Amsterdam. As soon as the train pulled into Midi station, we threw our suitcases into a locker (6€ for the day) and wandered unburdened into the streets of Brussels. We got off to a great start, walking twenty minutes in the wrong direction. We were deeply into a residential district before checking our map and realizing our mistake. False start aside, we still had a full visit and saw many major sights in Brussels in less than half a day.

Our first task was to find the one thing that would eliminate the stress of getting lost in a foreign city: Belgian beer. Le Grand Café on Anspachlaan in Bourse Beurs was just the place. Outdoor seating in Old Brussels, goblets of monastery-brewed beer, and bright sunlight. Ahhh, perfection.

Stress free! By the end of the day, I had a two tan lines on from these beer maiden braids...

Those were two-hand chalices, all right.

Suitably fortified, we made the uphill walk to the beautiful and impeccably kept church of the patron saints of Brussels: St. Michael and St. Gudula. 

The St. Michael and St. Gudula Church at Treurenberg hill

At this point, we hit the far end of our circular path through the heart of Brussels: Warandepark. Strolling alongside the Rue Royale to the Palace, past the Palais Royale to the Mont-des-Arts... 

The Jacquemart Carillon clock on the Mont des Arts

The ornate guildhalls on la Grand Place/Grote Markt, the central square of Brussels

We did the usual things, everything you would expect in Belgium. We ate french fries, bought Belgian chocolate, and I, at least, admired the delicate lacework on display. Our afternoon ended in the 

Grand Place, or in Dutch, the Grote Markt. This is the central square in Brussels, crammed with golden-accented buildings and facades so full of windows that you can barely see the front walls. 

The one landmark we did not see was Manneken Pis, the statue of the peeing boy. Just another reason to go back someday. 

Day Trip: Brighton

Today I went on a day tour to the southern coast of England with my roommates Anna, Danielle, Clare, and Jill. We booked through International Friends, which had been recommended to us by CAPA. The drive is approximately an hour and a half, and we traveled by van because the tour group was fairly small; in total, there were six international tourists, five CAPA girls, our guide, and the driver.

Brighton is a seaside resort town due south of London. Technically, it is now referred to as the city of Brighton and Hove. I had heard several things about Brighton, and the image I had of it in my head was fairly specific: a gaudy pier, a pebbled beach, and counterculture similar to Camden Town. Luckily for me, and for my readers, there is much, much more to Brighton than I had imagined.

The van unloaded us by the pebble beach and the main pier. I was immediately assaulted by powerful winds and light rain, and my friends and I were totally unprepared. We had one raincoat and two umbrellas between the five of us, and no heavy sweaters. However, we clutched our thin cardigans around our frail bodies, pulled our scarves tightly around our necks, fought to keep our umbrellas open until they were inverted, and soldiered on. This is England, after all. Stiff upper lip, and all that.

Our tour guide huddled us in a corner under an awning at the beginning of the pier while we waited to see if the rain would pass. It didn’t. Realizing that it wouldn’t do to waste our time shivering on the pier, the group agreed to make a dash for the Royal Pavilion and take shelter inside.

The Royal Pavilion, as you can see from the picture above, was built in an Indian architectural style when exoticism in art was becoming popular as a result of imperial expansion. It looks like an Indian palace transported to Britain, and according to our tour guide, it is the only building of its kind in the UK. The ornate interior was decorated in a style called chinoiserie, and I was very taken with it. I have seen interior design influenced by Chinese art, and I have seen individual paintings and ceramics from China, but never so many pieces in one place, presented with so much extravagance. I was in awe of the bamboo, the glass lotus flowers, and the gilded dragons! My favorite rooms were the banqueting hall (mostly because of the chandelier) and the state-of-the-art kitchen, but Danielle’s favorite was the sumptuous music room (mostly because of its thick carpet).

It was actually very appropriate that we visited Brighton after Bath because historically both cities boomed after becoming popular with royalty. Bath experienced a boom following a visit from Queen Mary in 1687. She took the waters at the spa to cure her infertility… and gave birth to a son ten months later. Thus, “taking the waters” at the spa became fashionable. During the 1750s, a man called Dr. Richard Russell began to advocate seawater over thermal water as a cure-all. Brighton experienced its boom. I think the history of the two cities gave a nice continuity to our touristy trips.

Anyway, back to the Pavilion at Brighton. The Royal Pavilion was the home of King George IV before he became Prince Regent and ultimately King. Our tour guide, Adam, explained that George had a poor relationship with his father, and moved to Brighton when he was only 21 years old. He met a woman named Maria Fitzherbert, who was majorly off limits as she was both a Catholic and a widow. But the naughty George IV decided to marry her anyway (unofficially), and she remained his mistress for several decades. The prince commissioned the architect John Nash to renovate his Brighton home, and it was super extravagant and awesome (see above). He lived there until Mad King George III (the one who lost America) was declared insane, and therefore unfit to rule, at which point he returned to London to rule as Prince Regent. His father kicked the bucket in 1820, and George IV ruled for ten years as King and then died. Sadly, he only visited Brighton twice during the last seven years of his life. The end.

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Now, being a girl who always does her research, I was aware of the Brighton Food and Drink Festival in September, and of the fact that today was the day of the Chili Festival. Being American, I had envisioned chili con carne – a thick stew with meat and beans, popular in Texas, often served with cornbread… But I had it wrong, friends – this was the Chilli Festival, hosted by Fiery Foods UK, and it was a celebration of any and all foods made with chillies. For whatever reason, chilli has a cult following in the United Kingdom, universally acknowledged to be a land of bland, hearty food. Go figure.

Anyway, the girls and I left the Pavilion and paid £2 to enter the Festival Ground in Victoria Gardens. We were immediately offered free Nando’s chicken and it was delicious. We knew we had come to the right place. We moved from booth to booth, tasting samples of chilli jellies, sauces, and chutneys. A near-death experience (Anna and I being tricked by a sadistic sample-man into eating the hottest sauce my tongue has ever met) impelled us into the Cider Tent, where we gulped down chocolate milk. Anna knows how we like sweets, so she ventured out into the rain for some churros with melted chocolate dipping sauce. Deee-lish. Continuing on in the rain, we pieced together a lunch from more free samples – chicken fajitas, tacos, etc – and listened to a string band. Jill even found a booth offering cupcakes made with chillies and chilli-vanilla ice cream! The festival might even have inspired me to watch the infamous chilli-eating contest aired on BBC, “Pleasure and Pain with Michael Mosley.”

Comfortably full of chilli-flavored foods, the girls and I headed into the North Laines. There were plenty of bohemian, countercultural shops and we were happy to shop there for a while. Only one purchase to report: Anna bought a grey sweater with two cats on it from Mama San. Cats are the latest fad in our flat :)

At 2:30, we climbed back into the van to embark on the second part of the tour: Beachy Head and the Seven Sisters. We drove along the coastline for a while, past rolling green hills dotted with sheep, to reach Beachy Head. Undeterred by the gale force winds, we raced out towards the cliffs for a photo op. From our position, we seemed to be surrounded by the ocean in three directions. 

Beachy Head lighthouse in the background

We are not English, however, and were soon forced into the Beachy Head Country Pub for two glasses of Zinfandel and a diet coke. The ambiance was lovely - "rural charm and rustic character" with candles lit to soften the atmosphere. I should mention that the winds here have destroyed by umbrella, which I thought was fairly sturdy before coming to England. I now understand that I need inclement weather gear of a higher caliber altogether. If you can’t stand intense wind and almost constant light rain, tourism in England may not be for you (ditto the rest of the UK). But, although the good weather was sporadic, our laughter was constant, and that’s what’s important. Travel is all about being opportunistic, and you have to make the best of what you get!

Smile anyway!

After Beachy Head, it was onto the Seven Sisters. The Seven Sisters are a series of chalk cliffs on the Sussex Heritage Coast in South Downs National Park. On the pebble shore were oval rocks made of chalk, collected and used to write our names on stones. I love places of unspoiled natural beauty, and the National Park offered me just that. I’d like to go back and hike the cliffs some day.

This has been a long blog post, I know – now I’m off to plan my Open House hits for tomorrow. I hope everyone else had as enjoyable a day as I did! Cheerio!

Day Trip: Stonehenge & Bath

When I began writing this blog post, I was so excited that it felt sort of silly. I began typing a manically happy review of my trip to Bath and Stonehenge. Upon re-reading, I became deeply emotional. And I began to question my happiness. And this is potentially very dangerous. Let me explain...

Two weeks into my semester abroad in London, and I am still practically euphoric at some point nearly every day. I love it here. I love my life. It's unbelievable. Unbelievable. See, there is a little voice in the back of my mind that keeps nagging me, trying to cast doubt, whispering that this incredible satisfaction can't last. 

Yes, I have been warned against the 'honeymoon stage' of study abroad, and the melancholy and frustration that, in theory, should be due within the next week or two. The culture shock/homesickness one-two punch is theoretically looming in the not-so-distant future. And the thought is worrisome. 

BUT I SAY NO.  I came to the UK prepared, and that includes mentally prepared. It will be a challenge - it already is - but I won't fall into despair in certain moments of vulnerability. When I can't count change to pay for my coffee (why is there a two cent coin but no quarter?)... During my 90 minute commute to work after early morning class on Friday... When Brits at the bar insist that my name is a boy's name. Yes, it sucks. But I've done this before - see France, spring of 2010. I struggled then, not always emerging victorious over sadness. But not this time. It won't always be perfect happiness, but it will be happiness. So now, strong and confident in my enthusiasm-realism balance, I can gush about Bath with no little voice undermining it :)

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For Saturday, the CAPA team planned a full day excursion to Stonehenge and Bath. Getting out of London to see the countryside sounded great, though it would require responding to my irritating alarm clock at 6:15 a.m. instead of unplugging it. Ugh. It would be worth it, right? My eleven roommates and I reluctantly left our beds, pulled on jeans and sweaters, and headed to the pre-arranged meeting point in the pale morning light and calm weather. 

The buses and our tour guides were waiting in South Kensington. As with our bus tour of London, CAPA had chosen Proscenium. They provide a good service - comfortable buses and knowledgeable Blue Badge guides. At 8:00 sharp, we drove west out of the city, past Fuller’s brewery and Twickenham rugby stadium. The stories of Roman times – Claudius, invasion, the tribes of Britain, Bodicea, Hadrian – provided the soundtrack for our exit of the city, concluding as we passed Richmond and merged onto the motorway.

  

The drive to Stonehenge, which massively predates Roman times, took nearly an hour and a half. It is the oldest of the old (even by English standards). As we neared the famous prehistoric monument, our guide explained in great detail what is known about the site, including the most recent discoveries and the mysteries that remain… I won’t go into it, but if you are curious, here is a link to the English Heritage website.  I had heard before going that visiting Stonehenge was overrated, but I disagree. The wind that morning was fierce, but the scene was very impressive. 

flatmates and stones

loving my Hunter wellington boots - thank you, AL & G Etz.

Our tour group only spent 45 minutes at Stonehenge, which was plenty of time to ponder its construction and to try to grasp how ancient the stones were. From Stonehenge to Bath, the drive was much more scenic. Despite the fall weather, the landscape looked as colorful and alive as during summer. I was excited to see a perched village near Limpley, which reminded me of France, as well as several pretty viaducts. (Stuart, our guide, mentioned that the viaduct that the Hogwarts Express traverses in Harry Potter is located in the Scottish Highlands – now, I want to visit Glenfinnan!)

Bath is charming. Beginning with the Roman baths was a smart idea - in doing so, we avoided most of the rainy weather that day. The indoor museum was unfortunately very crowded. Outdoors, however, the stately baths were waiting. They were incredible - the water is supposed to be very warm and rich in iron, but dipping your hands into it is out of the question. There was a wedding party inside, and the bride and groom were being photographed by the Great Bath, pictured below. 

All twelve roommates! My London family

The Roman baths

My friends and I used our free time that afternoon to search for lunch [Pasty Presto] and explore the city center. Later on, we gathered with the rest of the CAPA students at the Abbey. The Abbey's facade displays angels literally climbing the building towards heaven! From there, our tour guide led the group around Great Pulteney Street, the Circus, the Royal Crescent, and Royal Victoria Park, incorporating legends of the healing power of the waters and stories of the brazen architects John Wood Sr. and Jr. 

We boarded the bus at 3:45, and our timing could not have been better - it started to rain almost immediately after. I spent the return journey - a two and a half hour ride - admiring scenery, planning another visit to Bath, and napping. Some of the girls and I chose to go to O'Neils in Covent Garden last night, and we didn't return home until very late. I was at the Thames Festival all morning, but I don't think I'll make it back for the Night Carnival. I do plan on walking to the bridge in my PJs to watch the fireworks display - or pyrotechnics, as they're called here - later on. 

Cheers, friends. How was your weekend?

Day Trip: Toulon

Today, my friend Allison and I took a day trip to Toulon, a city that lies 45 km (nearly 30 miles) west along the southern coast of France. The day began as all of my day trips usually do: bus from the Gare Routière in Aix to Marseille, Gare St. Charles for tickets to Toulon. 
The first thing we saw when we arrived in the upper town was the large fountain in the Place de la Liberté - the large square between the train station and the Boulevard de Strasbourg. 

We crossed over to the Rue Henri Pastoureau, wandering along it until we found a bakery where we could buy some sandwiches for lunch. In the course of our search for the Office du Tourisme, we passed the Stade Mayol, where a soccer match was about to begin and the crowds were frenzied. There were numerous food vendors cooking delicious French stadium fare outside, and what seemed to be a small parade to the stadium entrance. When we finally found the Tourism Office, we snagged a map and some advice from a kind woman behind the desk there - where to wander, which museums to see, etc. From there it was just a short walk to the harbor on the Mediterranean. Toulon has a large military harbor with a major French naval base. We walked along the quay, bought some postcards to send home to our lovely families, then eventually turned up a street that would lead us back into town.

The part of town that we discovered next was the old historic center of Toulon. The old town is, as Wikipedia describes it (of all places!) "a pedestrian area with narrow streets, small squares and many fountains." So much of France is like this, it seems. Especially Aix-en-Provence! We passed by the Toulon Cathedral and through the market on the Cours Lafayette, where the produce looked so fresh that we had to buy some as a snack! I opted for dried apricots - a favorite since I first bought them at the enormous mercado in Florence. At one point, Allison and I turned into an old building where ancient pottery, furniture, maps, etc. were on display. It was just the sort of chance encounter you might expect when you wander the pedestrian streets of any village in France, directionless and content to be so. 

Eventually, we found a photography exhibit in the Musée Maison de la Photo de Toulon. On show were the Lumière du Jour Portraits Nus 1999/2009 of Philippe ODDOART. The quotes featured alongside the photographs were thought-provoking. After spending some time appreciating the black and white portraits, we left the Musée for the Hotel des Arts, the Centre d'Art du Conseil General du Var. On display was an exhibit that had only opened the previous day, of paintings by Jérôme Dupin. His work was abstract, but vibrant and playful - just about the opposite of the elegant black and white nude portraits!  

Finally, we headed into the Galeries Lafayette department store to scent ourselves with expensive perfume and hand cream, and to apply a coat of Chanel lipstick. In the end, we made our way back towards the railroad station, but ultimately decided to take a bus directly back to Aix from Toulon for about 16 euros. 

Day Trip: Hiking Mont St. Victoire

Yes, I did it. I climbed Mont St. Victoire. The 18 km long, 5 km high mountain painted dozens of times by Paul Cézanne. And it was no easy task. I caught the bus near the Rotonde fountain in the center of Aix to the base of the mountain. My Norwegian friend Katja and I chose a moderate path, but we wasted no time losing our way and improvising a new trail! It took two hours non-stop to hike to the top, and an hour and a half to get back down. Here's some photos of my adventure:

Katja and I wishing we could jump in the water. Unfortunately it is solely for drinking :(

Choosing our path: we chose a mid-level one but got lost and ended up climbing the side of part of the mountain. Eventually we found a path but it was the difficult one; we were forced to take it to the top.  

When we finally got to the top, it was exhilarating, but my legs were starting to feel a bit tired. Katja told me not to worry, we use an entirely different set of muscles getting down the mountain. I wasn't exactly relieved to hear that. 

The blue lake in the back left corner of this picture is where we started from. The scenery made me feel like I was in the Lord of the Rings! I'm so proud of myself for agreeing to this hiking trip and completing the trail. Here's hoping that I won't be sore tomorrow! xo

Day Trip: Cassis

Bon Jour!! I hope you're all enjoying your Sunday and relaxing. I'm heading out in a bit to go to Marseille with Brittany's friends who are visiting from Florence, and tomorrow I'm going to ATTEMPT to climb Mont St. Victoire with Katja. We'll see how that goes!! But what I really wanted to show you in this update is how beautiful it was in Cassis, where I spent the day yesterday with my room mates Lauren and Katie. 

We were out of the house by 8am, hiking up the street outside our apartment to the Avenue des Belges, and then onto the Avenue de l'Europe to the Gare Routiere to catch a bus to Marseille. From there, it was a short walk uphill to the train station, where we bought tickets to Cassis for 4 euro - it's only 45 minutes away from Aix. The view from the train station in Marseille, the Gare St Charles, is amazing. The entire city is laid out before you, including a spectacular view of Notre Dame de la Garde. You can see it on a hill in the background of the picture below, where Katie and Lauren are sitting on the steps as we waited for our train.

Our train to Cassis departed on time (thankfully no strikes today), but the station in Cassis is very far uphill from the downtown area and beach. It was necessary to hike downhill for a while to get into town. On the way, we passed a large vineyard called La Ferme Blanche, where we stopped for un degustation (tasting) and to buy some wine for our picnic lunch. We ended up purchasing three bottles: two whites and one rosé, which I am seen carrying here as we left the vineyard. We used our French all day! At the train station, talking to the vineyard owner, and at the Office de Tourisme in Cassis. 

When we finally made it down to the beach, we were so impressed. The water was gorgeous, it was sunny blue skies out, and the town was adorable and clean. Every picture we took looked like a post card! Lauren and Katie had packed a lunch the night before: We had egg salad in pita wraps, and a really cool invention: they took a green, a yellow, and a red bell pepper, than cut them in half. Inside each half, they put fresh tuna salad. It was delicious, filling, and totally healthy. Then we had some dessert and lounged around on the beach for a while. Below is Lauren with her Chanel sunglasses and Longchamp bag, looking out at the Mediterranean. It's so easy being French!

Eventually Lauren and I got up and went in search of tickets for a boat ride around the famous Calanques - the rocky inlets that line the coast from Cassis to Marseille, about 15 miles. In the end, we opted for a 45 minute boat ride to explore three Calanque inlets. The trees that you see on the rock faces grow very slowly, but what's interesting about them is that they grow directly on the rocks, without soil! Cassis is the only place where you can find them growing naturally. 

The Calanques are also a very popular place to hike: we saw loads of people on the rocks from our boat. I even ran into my friends Jenny, Dorrie, and Mike; they were heading out to camp on the beach for the night! Talk about adventurous. 

Everyone was exhausted by the time we finally caught the bus home. However, it was much closer to the center of town than an uphill hike to the train station, and it was a bargain at 3 euro. It was an amazing day.

L'Isle-Sur-la-Sorgue, Roussillon, Gordes

Another fantastic excursion with CEA today, mais très fatiguant (very tiring). Our first destination was L'Isle-Sur-La-Sorgue, a town that gets its name from the river that surrounds it, la Sorgue. There are canals through the city, which is why it's nicknamed the Venice of Provence... or the Venice of France, depending on who you ask. On Sunday they have a famous antique and produce market where we shopped for a picnic lunch. On display at the market: foie gras, bowls of fresh olives, cheeses, wines, meats, tapenades, olive oils, bread, fruit, vegetables, satchels of dried lavender, and much more. This was the coldest day so far, but I bought a cute pair of boots (les bottes) on sale for 14 euro! In France there are only two sales every year - one in January and one in July. Stores are not allowed to have sales (les soldes) any other time of year! The winter sale ends Feb. 9 so I bought a pair of flats for 9 euro as well. Below, from left to right, is Matthew, Dorie, me, Allison, Olivia, and Megan. Behind us is one of the canals with a wheel churning the frigid water of the Sorgue.

I went to a great cafe with Matthew, Dorie, and Laura and we planned un pique-nique of apples, baguettes, camembert and brie cheese, and wine. We packed our bag and left the island city of the Vaucluse, bringing our picnic lunch with us to enjoy in Roussillon. 

Above is us perched on a ledge - something I'm sure we weren't supposed to do, since we had to climb over an official-looking fence to get out there. If you look at our faces you can see how nervous Laura and I were! Below is a picture of the cliff we were on from further away.  

The interesting thing about the hills below Roussillon is the color. Most of the rock around Provence is whitish-gray limestone. Here, the rock in the hills is reddish orange. There is a practical scientific explanation (ochre), but I prefer the legend of La Sirmonde. 

Long ago there was an evil man who lived in Roussillon - Raymond d'Avignon. He married a beautiful woman named Sirmonde, but she did not love him. He was very neglectful and eventually Sirmonde fell in love with another man - Guillaume de Cabestan. When Raymond discovered their affair, he killed Guillame one day while hunting. That night he cooked Guillaume's heart and fed it to his unfaithful wife for dinner. After the meal, Raymond told Sirmonde that she had just eaten le coeur of her love. Upon learning this, Sirmonde rose and exclaimed "Vous m'avez offert un si bon repas que jamais je ne veux plus en goûter un autre" - translated: "You have given me such a good meal that I never want to eat another." As she began to leave, Raymond took out his sword and killed her, then threw his wife out the window from one of the highest cliffs in Roussillon - and that is why the hills are red. In Roussillon nowadays you can get a snack at the Café La Sirmonde. Pretty wicked, huh? Gotta love the French.

Below is the town of Gordes. It's really very pretty, although here it looks fairly bland. The levels of the city reminded me of Minas Tirith from Lord of the Rings [nerd]. At the bottom of the mountain there is an abbey - the Abbey de Sénanque - but I have no picture of it. This is the town where Marion Cotillard's café was located in the film A Good Year.  

Sending my love once again, hope you enjoyed the legend of La Sirmonde. Bonne nuit.

Les Baux-de-Provence et Saint-Rémy

Bonjour! Exciting and beautiful day, field trip about an hour away into medieval Provence. Below is a photo of me and several CEA students heading towards the top of the Chateau in les Baux de Provence, a famous medieval town with a stunning view. On the weekends it's a big touristy place so we were lucky to go on a Thursday when it's very empty. The downside was leaving the Tourist Office at 8:30am (2:30am USA) to get there. I still have trouble falling asleep here.

The views were so great: the mountains in the distance on one side, with vineyards and olive trees on the ground, and the town of les Baux in the hills on the other side. There was a "light" wind that nearly knocked me over, but Vivienne (the program director) said it was not nearly as strong as the Mistral. Hmm...

Scattered around the grounds were medieval weapons and illustrated plaques describing defense strategies and punishment in les Baux. You were thrown from the top of the hill if you tried to invade le Chateaux de Baux de Provence. In September there is a reenactment of an assault on the chateau where men dressed like soldiers of the middle ages actually use an ancient catapult contraption.  

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After Les Baux, we were privileged to go to a very special house for lunch. During the 10 minute drive to Saint-Rémy, we passed several flocks of sheep, which was unusual because they were unattended. In Provence, they still have trained bergers, or shepherds! We turned down a road in Saint-Rémy and guess where we were? We were right in front of the mental hospital that Vincent Van Gogh (or Van Gogg, as they pronounce it here) checked himself into after cutting off his ear following an absynthe drinking binge with fellow painter Paul Gauguin. The hospital is shown below. They had pictures of Van Gogh's works next to the trees he painted. It was amazing.

And right next to the hospital, mais oui, was the most exceptional house I have ever been to. It belongs to a man named Lolo.

Lolo is an impressive man of 85. He cooks a two hour lunch for 40 CEA students every year. This house has been in his family since the time of Louis XIV, the Sun King. In fact, he has the deed to his house with the official mark of the Sun King on it in a cabinet - it should be in a museum! The truly sad thing is, the entire house will be a museum soon. Lolo never married and has no children. He is the last of his kind.

This is the adorable Lolo - three kisses with him! 

Our lunch started off with apertifs, which are intended to wet your appetite. I indulged in a pastis. To pour your drink, you fill the little bulb at the end of the bottle with pastis, about one and a half ounces worth, and pour it into a cup. Then, you add five times as much water (Vivienne's orders) and voila - pastis! Emma is demonstrating in the photo below.

Each group of six people got one bottle of red wine and one of rosé. The meal started with pâté - and yes, this adventurous blogger tried it! And you can't just try a little in Provence - you must try a portion. There was pork pâté, and some kind of small bird pâté as well. They were very good by French standards. Then there was an olive omelette. It was brown, because the black olives were crushed up and added to the egg - SO GOOD! I had close to three servings and wiped my plate with bread. I used to think green and black olives came from different trees, when in fact the black olives are matured green olives, and you can't just eat them right off an olive tree - they take almost two weeks to prepare. Olive season is very nearly over in Provence. [The olive trees are much smaller here than in Greece, because not too long ago there was a devastating frost that killed all the olive trees in Provence! Or killed them all above ground I should say, because olive trees are eternal and the roots endured the frost and the trees eventually grew back. They have grown to a good size but are still small.] After the omelette, we ate Ratatouille! The eggplant in it was excellent and I was surprised to learn that the recipe was vegetarian. The next course was lamb with green beans. I did try the lamb but didn't like the taste. We finished our meal with some camembert cheese. Lolo has at least six dogs that I was able to count, and I fed scraps to them the whole time. At my table I talked to the assistant program director, Sarah, who is English and lived in Monaco for 25 years. 

Two years ago, Lolo decided to uproot the lavender field behind his house to plant olive trees. When Vivienne asked him why he took on a job that required such intense manual labor, he told her that without doing the things you love in life, you might as well not be living . And so, at the age of 83, he planted 100 olive trees.

Lolo's house was built near a quarry; consequently, it smells like fresh clay (and a wood fire) all the time. Everyone in the area gives Lolo their old farming tools and he has a fascinating and eclectic collection of equipment, including a very old wine press and ladders for picking grapes and olives. Lolo is leaving everything he owns to the town of Saint-Remy when he passes, but I now understand why Vivienne says the town will never be the same once he's gone. He's prefectly charming and his life is so well preserved and old fashioned. I really can't believe we were there, eating a lunch he personally made for us, sitting next to a giant armoire from the 10th century! C'etait incroyable (unbelievable).

Today was by far the best day I've had in Provence. Tonight I'm meeting some of the girls at O'Shannons for a drink because we can sleep in tomorrow for the first time! And I will find out after the Aix scavenger hunt which level of school I'm in and my class schedule. After that I can begin to plan my weekend trips. I haven't been terribly homesick, but when it does enter my mind, it is usually at night. I still haven't adjusted to the time difference so its difficult to fall asleep and I just think of home and start to miss everyone. It's been difficult but I'm putting everything I've got into pushing forward until it gets easier! They say the first 2-6 weeks are always the hardest.