Peddling through Provence: Arles, Point du Gard, and the Cote du Rhone

Provence now is in stiff competition with the Dordogne for my favorite region in France. In reading Rickey Stevey, I had a really difficult time getting a sense for the region and it's activities. Well suffice it to say, our first intro -- Arles -- set the mood. Though Arles is hot, slightly dirty, and crowded, it has a certain je ne sais quoi; it's streets and squares inspired van Gogh for gosh sakes! That being said, cities our not really our scene, so we enjoyed, we took in, and we quickly moved on.

For two nights, we stayed in a lovely gite, the MAS DE LAS CROIX, 10 minutes outside of St. Remy de Provence. If after meeting the solicitous proprietor Jordane and her dog Ethon you are underwhelmed, I would proudly assert that you are without a soul! The setting, appropriately rural, was splendid.

That afternoon, we headed to Pont du Gard, to visit the famous Roman Aqueduct, which stands only six feet shorter than the Colosseum. After hiking around for a bit, Charis and I swam in the River below, experiencing for the first time an introduction to the culturally shocking European views on "swimwear," or lack thereof.

The next morning, we geared up for a day long tour of the Cote du Rhone valley, hopping between small picturesque towns and tasting wine at the vineyards from which these towns draw acclaim. Though most most wine still generally tastes the same to me, I feel like a classy mofo when tasting.

Jordan and her dog, Ethon

Languedoc Region

 Our visit to the Languedoc Region was brief, as we needed a one day rest stop between the Dordogne and Provence. The big draw in the region was Carcassone, a well preserved, shamelessly touristic medieval town. Rickey Stevey awarded the town three triangles, an Oscar for Best Actor in the travel world, and for the first time, I would say our travel compatriot was dead wrong. We spent literally ... 43 minutes in Carcassone. You walk around, see one medieval structure, turn left, see a similar medieval structure, then walk forward 10 more paces, and guess what you see yet another similar medieval structure, all the while being solicited to buy nick-nacks and doo-dads from street sellers and beggers who refuse to take a hint that you want them to bug off.

Our hotel and dinner, 50 minutes outside of town, was a welcome respite. We had seafood cassoulet with some lovely Rose ... What more could you ask for! Once you leave the big city, the Languedoc feels distinctly Mediteranean.

Dordogne

The Dordogne is the most lovely and interesting region of France we've visited so far. Topographically, the area is stunning, with small picturesque towns set against yellow, beige cliffs dotted along the Dordogne River. Even though we were in Southern Europe, the amount of trees and jungle had a rain forest-like effect.

Our hotel, the La Bard, was in medieval Montfort. The couple who ran the place were solicitous to the point of overbearing, but it was charming in a Jewish mother sort of way, deserving of no less than 5 stars on Trip Advisor. 

Since we had so little time in the region, we hit the big sites -- touring the Cro-Magnon caves of Lascaux II, taking a scenic kayak tour along the Dordogne, which included visits to Castlenaud and Beynak, and sampling unlimited and excessively unions amounts of Foie Gras (apparently the Dordogne I the force feeding capital of the world). Were it not for European Socialism, I would be more than content to retire to a small rural town around Sarlat, tending to my own garden and experiencing nature at its finest.

Chenenceaux and Vouvrey

 This trip has proved an exhaustive tour of France, its food and culture. I have the impression that most American's visit Paris and the Riviera; however, with the exception of Normandy, we have run into very few english speaking individuals, which has been a total joy. As we jump from region to region, I've done my best to learn about each one's unique charm. That being said, we used our 1.5 days in the Loire to explore chateaux's and drink a lot of wine.

Early in the am, we headed to Chateau Chenenceaux, one of the most famous in the Loire. I can report that Chenenceaux and its gardens are brilliant; however, having lived in Newport, the notion of visiting a "mansion" is not ground breaking -- that seemed to be the consensus of the family. We made a picnic in the Chateux's gardens, sampling for the first time one of the regions's specialties ... rilletes, aka fattening and delicous pork.

That afternoon, per the recommendation of Rickey Stevey, we went on a wine tour and tasting in Vouvrey. The tour guide spoke little English, and though we comprehended almost nothing he said, the opportunity to explore the cellers, and marvel at wine aged as old as 1872, was really unique. Afterwards, we did a tasting, including a red wine, white wine, and dessert wine. I have to say personally, I'm into white. Off to the Dordogne, the land of foie gras!

Mont St Michel to the Loire Valley

Leaving Normandy, we drove further North to Mont St Michel, the famous island abbey rising from an uninhabted, tidal swamp. Given the reviews of hot, sweaty, partially obese throngs of tourists, I viewed the excursion as a "must do," but expected little. Oh how wrong I was!

TripAdvisor and Ricky Stevey were right ... Mont St Michel is crowded and cheaply commercial at times, but if you arrive after peak visiting hours, get some exercise by actually walking from the parking lot, down the road to the island, and up the stairs to the Abbey, the whole experience is truly special. Granted I'm not religious, or even Catholic, but the whole aura of the place permeated your visit. If there is one negative, the famous salt-water lamb, for which Mont St Michel is renowned, tastes as you might expect, normal lamb we get at BJs.

The following morning, we took to the road heading southward through the Loire Valley to a small town 6km outside of Ambois. Though we have yet to visit the Chateau's, the dinner we had last night was sublime:
-locally sourced white asparagus with olive tapenade
-smoked swordfish salad -leeks with smoked ham and hard boiled egg
-monkfish with pork trotters (a revelation for all things pig)
-red mullet with vegetables raised in the restaraunt garden
-a selection of cheeses ranging from funky to what the funk

Normandy: D-Day on June 6, 2012

By pure coincidence, we did the Rick Steve's "D-Day Sites in One Day" on the 68th anniversary of Operation Overlord. Our visit had further meaning, as the weather -- cold, cloudy, and rainy -- set the scene to imagine the troop's experience (without bullets and the prospect of death, of course). Leaving Honfleur, we arrived in Arromanches, a toursity, albeit charming, town between the both the American -- Omaha and Utah -- and English/Canadian -- Juno, Sword, and Gold -- beaches. After an intro to D-Day at the Arromanches 360 Theater, we visited Port Winston from the cliffs. I can report that Arromanches was appropriately mobbed, and though we did not speak with any of the vets, we had the good fortune to see a few in the flesh. Given that 2012 is an off year to reunion, the commemorations were less grandiose. Having introduced ourselves to the battle, we headed west to Longues-sur-Mer, the site of four, intact German artillery batteries, all the while anxiously anticipating Omaha Beach and the American Military Cemetary. With the images of SAVING PRIVATE RYAN in my head, we drove further West to Omaha Beach. Despite its apparent tranquility, the beaches's history was palpable. Quite seriously, you could imagine the beach littered with the dead, injured, dieing, and totally freaked-out. We went up to the American Military Cemtary, which was expectedly depressing, and in desperate need of a feel-good-upper, we headed further West to Point-du-Hoc, the most interesting (but equally sad) monument in Normandy. We finished our day with a quick visit to the German Military Cemetary, which in comparison to the victory and hope the American Cemetary celebrates, evokes despair and defeat. A lovely dinner in Bayeux concluded our jam packed, jet-lag distorted day. Still in search of caffeinated coffee, but proud to report we've located mouth-gasmic cheese and charcuterie.

Logan to Reykjavik, to Paris, to Giverny, to Honfleur

So the European adventure has begun! After an effortless, almost too easy, no nonsense flight from Logan to Reykjavik (landed at 12am for midnight sun), we left for a 6am arrival into Paris, from where we immediately dparted directly to Giverny, the sight of Claude Monet's home. By the pure coincidence of jetlag and timezone, we were energized enough to arrive promptly when the doors opened, affording our family the opportunity to explore Monet's gardens, his lily pond, and home SANS (see how much I've picked up already) hordes of tourist. Please note that the entire site's signs are ascribed in French and Japanese? When we left Giverny, we, oh lucky we, saw five tour buses headed in the opposite direction. For the next few hours, I had the opportunity to see how the French drive ... In close proximity, fast, and aggressive. To say we encountered one or two dicey situations with me at the helm would be an understatement. That night, we arrived and slept in Honfleur, a pictureseque and quaint small town where the Siene meets the English Chanel. At that point, we were so unbelievably blown out, experiencing the gorgeous town as mindless sightseeing automatons. I can report so far that in France the wine is less alcholic and the coffee less caffeinated, but both more flavorful. More from Normandy soon (for history buffs reading this, what is significant about the day we're visiting ... June 6), and oh year, GO SCOTT WALKER!