What follows represents a series of observations following my a trip to Provence: anything that resembles normality and sanity is an accident and can be dispensed with!

We went to Eguilles to stay with friends Alain and Marie Jo and their family: an excellent setting with a stunning view across the valley looking at the new TVG bridge, centre left of the following snap!

Eguilles is just a short distance from Aix on Provence and that in itself is a lovely place to visit. Here's the entrance to the Pavilion Vendôme

and a statue near an excellent swathe of street cafés

and the street sign on the main street in Aix

Sprightly Genevieve on our last day at the street café: we didn't need coats as it was sunny and boiling hot. Lovely gnocchi:

Genevieve provided the best pantomime act of the whole trip. For some reason we got to talking about bathing costumes and then someone mentioned thongs. That took Genevieve into a flight of fancy about some rather well endowed German ladies on the beach on the Riviera who ill advisedly from the sound of it chose to wear thongs. Genevieve got up from her chair and proceeded to demonstrate how things at the front and things at the back of a German lady's body were given to flapping around as she walked along the beach … in her thongs. Hilarious! It had to be done in mime as Genevieve speaks no English!!!

The very first evening we arrived, at 1 am in fact, we were told about a forest fire that took place near Eguilles and how devastating it was. I saw the evidence for myself later that day as a gaggle of us scaled Montagne Sainte Victoire: a large expanse of forest had indeed been destroyed. The fascinating detail that will stay with me for ever though is that someone estimated that some of the reason for the spreading of the fire wasn't due to the wind or the proximity of trees but because of rabbits: that is, rabbits who became enveloped in flames and then hopped around in fear and pain and they spread the fire unwittingly. It's a strange story even if you're a rabbit and even stranger if it's true!

Clambering up the montagne was hardly mountain climbing but when rising around 700 metres over rough and rocky terrain, one's legs feel it. Considering that I'm generally sedentary with two or three one hour walks along the streets of Abingdon per week, that climb was hard! My legs didn't recover for four days.

I went to SW France a long time ago and fell in love with their bread and croissants. I was gagging to taste fresh French baguettes and croissants again. The stereotypical situation of early rising French people queuing for their freshly baked carbohydrates was revealed to be true! Sunday morning at 0930 there were MEN queuing for bread let alone women and children. I have to say that their fresh bread is good and they provide a wide variety of styles and tastes; but which is best is a matter of taste and I didn't like all of them as much as I would have liked. Still, better than British bread by a long stretch!

Dima had been down here over the summer so we went for dinner to the family he stayed with and they generated a sushi party for us. Spread the table with raw fish, rice, seaweed leaves, soya sauce and then add some cheese and tomato strips for a veggie like me. Add a little mat, rolling for the use of and off you go: sushi party. Let me be modest and say that generally I got the hang of it better than the rest even though I had one or two surprise efforts. The secret is not to overfill the things. I know it sounds obvious but then again, you didn't see what I saw!

I had my very first taste of a Chateauneuf du Pape wine at this party, too: a very nice white wine it was too. Chateauneuf du Pape is usually a red wine, donchaknow, so this is an unusual offering: apparently there was a world shortage when they first introduced their white wines a few years ago, given that it was instantly very popular.

I took a tour round the grave yard in Eguilles just to see what's what and was interested in two things: the graves stones themselves are a bit different to the ones we usually find here. Then many graves had plaques or plates standing on them that said things like "From your friends", "Your brother" and so on. A lot of patriotic imagery in there too: the French flag, military insignia and so on.

I also spent some time perusing a few vineyards: just looking and assessing the effort they seem to put into them. Firstly, there are lots of vineyards here: even though many of them are only around ½ to 1 acre in size. Here's one now:

This vineyard is small but perfectly formed and whilst there are a few weeds in this field, notice that the grapes have long been harvested. I compared the vineyards I saw in France with others I saw in the Caucasus and have to conclude that the Caucasian Viticulturalists need to weed more regularly!

We had a Tom & Jerry incident early on Halloween! Laurie, see her pic below, was up reasonably early and I suggested that she wake Dima with a kindly Halloween greeting: good morning, happy Halloween or some such friendly gesture. Laurie has a lively disposition and took to her task. She was met with supreme indifference initially, of course; but since she is made of sterner stuff, she was not to be beat! Water entered the equation at this stage: I recommended something like the Chinese water torture as a starter! After a few seconds of the torture starting, Tom kicked in and Jerry kicked out! Tornadoes swept through the house. Calm! Whooosh! Calm! Whooosh and mayhem! Calm! Eventually, Tom resigned to his fate of having won the water battles but having lost the sleep battle. Jerry returned to the kitchen with dripping wet bits of tissue and cotton wool falling out from various bits of her clothing satisfied that she had put across her Halloween greeting well enough!

I went with Laurie to the local bank to try to exchange some Pounds for €uro. Eguilles is small, very small. The bank is small, very very small. Yet to get into this vast emporium of riches one has to navigate a Fort Knox type rigmarole. Laurie had been there before and knew the ropes and the language; I had not been there before and knew neither ropes nor language. I was bundled into the ante chamber of the bank whereat a voice came at me in French that I couldn't fathom. The ante chamber was constructed largely of glass and I could see into the bank. A clerk got up from his chair and he came towards me … but not at me! I smiled a wan, pathetic, plaintiff smile that said I am of the clueless race, help me oh wise French speaking omnipotent one for whom I have feelings of love and respect. He saw this expression and the Englishness of the visage displaying it, cracked not a smile and walked on.

Like Laurel out of Laurel and Hardy I shuffled my way outside at which point Laurie took complete control: empty your pockets into these lockers … the voice in the ante chamber was telling me that she was really a metal detector and she had detected metal: my phone, my coins, my keys; and she wasn't going to let me anywhere near anyone with that scrap yard in my pocket. So that solved that then.

The only problem remaining was that the bank didn't carry the facilities to exchange my Pounds. They were nice about it (except that man aforementioned who clearly sings this song whilst he works If I can help somebody as I pass along, I'll keep on passing) and they even spoke English; but they couldn't help me.

Whilst we ended the holiday with magnificent weather, we had a real mixed bag over the ten days or so. We had mist and drizzle up the montagne. We had cool and clammy weather then we had driving, lashing rain and then we had an Indian summer: shirt sleeve, sun cracking the flags weather. The weather comes through in some of the pictures.

Marseille is a nice place to go and see and although half a day isn't the optimum amount of time to spend there, it enough to get a flavour. We went to Notre Dame de la Garde church: spectacular views from the church that's perched on top of a large hill. The church overlooks the whole of Marseille and its seaward approaches. From the church you can see Chateau d'Ife, the island on which the Count of Monte Cristo was imprisoned for a time. Here are a few of my snaps from that tripette.

Through the trees and here's Marseille:

Onwards to Cassis just along the coast: a nice little resort that we could only see in the rain and dusk. Still, looks worthy of another visit some day!

One spooky thing here is that I went into a number of churches and found that there was no great East window in any of them. In England, churches tend to have a west door and an East, stained glass, window … it's a tradition. Many of the French churches didn't have a window at all in the East, let alone a stained glass one. Otherwise, some nice churches to look at: the lack of windows made taking pictures very difficult, even during the day because of the lack of light.

Another thing that seems to have gone absent without leave is side plates. Homes and restaurants seem happy for diners to crumble their baguettes over the table rather than over a side plate. In the end I used to grab a side plate when no one was looking and treated myself to the luxury thereof.

Just outside Aix en Provence there is a massive Carrefour supermarket cum village. Absolutely huge and crammed full of stuff. I don't know that Carrefour is any better or worse than Tesco or Asda but this was certainly a lot bigger than anything I've seen in the UK. Lots of variety, too. However, you can be as big as you like but if your biscuits are manky you might as well close down! No offence but the biscuits they were selling just can't be dunked! Not a patch!

I suddenly needed to have my haircut pronto, sorry plus vite! I think we found the world's shortest female hairdresser to do the job: it was a case of my 1.88 metres v her 1.3 metres or some such. She did a good job though and didn't charge the earth. That was at a salon called Variations near the Hotel de Ville in Aix en Provence … down a side street.

How about some stunning pics from the Luberon area? Take a look at those that follow.

Houses at Roussillon painted in different shades of the local ochre:

This is where the ochre comes from:

Taken in Menerbes, where A Year in Provence was set. Nice place:

Went to Arles over the final weekend: yours truly drove a quaint little VW Golf to get us there and back and it duly did that. Due to a completely inept navigator we almost didn't get back to Eguilles but because of that ineptitude, I did get a close up view of the TGV bridge in the opening photograph in this travelogue: we drove right under it … it's massive!

That's me on the left:

Can you seen anyone at the far end of the amphitheatre? The acoustics here are absolutely brilliant: I did an Alas poor Yorick, I knew him Horatio speech in a faux thespianic voice that carried rather well from one end to the other!

From the top of the Amphitheatre looking down the Rhone and along a couple of streets:

Approaching the Amphitheatre:

Burglaries and thefts are a big problem in France now and anyone who is seen as having anything remotely resembling decent is under threat. Dear old Genevieve has a place in the centre of France that was burgled for the eighteenth time whilst she was with us in Eguilles. Robberies are very common in the more affluent places now: it's being done by people who feel the need to feed a drug habit and they steal anything from anyone.

Know what arbitrage is? Well, there's arbitrage to be done in homoeopathic medicines if my small sample is anything to go by: Belladonna that costs around £1 per bottle in Eguilles costs £3.90 in Boots in the UK.

Finally, I found this image in our hosts' house and thought it was so good I had to have a copy of it:

Here endeth a well enjoyed ten days in Provence.

© Duncan Williamson
23 November 2003