To Marseilles

On the way back to Marseilles and the airport we decided to visit Les Baux. Last time we visited we had all the children in tow and it was baking hot. This time we were nearly blown off the high points and the wind made it quite cold. I think more of the site is open and it is better explained. The siege engines were there last time, but this time they fired the trebuchet!

The trebuchet

 It was quite a performance and great fun. It’s really a mechanised sling shot. The projectile goes really high, but I should suppose the besiegers had to be able to get the machine close to the walls of the castle they were attacking and then protect the crew somehow. The battering ram comes with its own housing to protect the crew from projectiles of all kinds.  We had a good time, although all the courtly  love nonsense leaves me very cold.

Wandering through the village is quite fun but all the shops get very same-y. The church is interesting though - twelfth century and with a barrel vault and reused Roman pillars. Some of the side chapels are carved from the rock and there are striking brilliantly coloured stained glass windows, the gift of Prince Rainier of Monaco, as apparently the Grimaldis briefly  owned Les Baux.

From Marseilles we had a trip to the coast, at Bandol. It got a bit fraught as the traffic is so heavy.  There is a helicopter service from the airport, and now, rather than despising the celebs flown into Cannes or wherever,  I have a certain sympathy for them. Bandol, is quite a swish resort, with many yachts and some superyachts with the crew cleaning and polishing. It's slightly spoiled by parking. I dread to think what it might be like in August. We had an excellent lunch, and then drove along a rather dramatic road through the Parc National des Calanques, to Cassis. Cassis is more workaday than Bandol but very pleasant.

Beach at Cassis

View back to bandol

The following day we planned to complete unfinished business and visit Chateau d'If. We got the bus into Marseilles centre rather than try to park, and got off at the main station, which has had a big modern makeover,  but the bloke at the coffee stall immediately tried to overcharge us, and outside the station there was litter everywhere and a pervasive smell of urine. A business man advised us to stick to the main streets to the Vieux Port,  and even so, we saw beggars, some with babies, someone dead drunk or maybe just dead, and groups of young men that it seemed better to avoid.  If we told any French person we were going to Marseilles,  they all chorused "Soyez prudent! " and we see why now. I think Marseilles has gone off since we were here two years ago.

When we reached Vieux Port, the boats were not going to Chateau d'If (again!). To be fair there is a wind and a bit of a sea. 

But boats were going to Frioul, so we decided to do that, and at least pass near the prison. Well, what a brilliant decision! Frioul is on a little island, Ratonneau. There are a little group of islands, two of which, Ratonneau and Pomegues are rather larger and have been joined by a short causeway. They belonged to the military until about forty years ago but are now a nature reserve, with this little harbour and yacht marina. 

Frioul marina

They are very dry, and obviously windblasted, and only some drought- and salt-tolerant plants grow. 

A Mussel farm on Pomegues

There are some interesting birds though, and the military remains are really interesting. At the extreme end of Pomegues there is what is clearly a nineteenth century fort, but instead of cannon there are huge concrete bunkers for big guns – the sort you see in Normandy, so I’m sure they are German built, but the guide sheet we were given didn’t mention the Germans. I think they got away with it.

There’s also the quarantine hostel where the characters meet at the beginning of Little Dorrit, which got me quite excited, and spectacular views back to If, with Marseilles beyond, limestone cliffs, and navy blue sea dotted with white sails. There was no traffic and almost no noise. It was just wonderful.  Heading back into Marseilles to get back to the hotel was quite a shock to the system!

The pilots' quarters on Ratonneau- as though a boat has reversed very fast
into the island

So now we're off home and dreading getting on the scales after all the food and wine. But what are holidays for, but relaxing? And we have had quite a lot of exercise.

Provence again

Here we are in a gite in Vaucluse again. We're near Cairanne, which is yet another sleepy dusty hilltop town with walls, gates and a donjon, but all rather in miniature. The gite is super, a big modern extension on the original mas, with a wonderful 18 metre long swimming pool, and it is really hot, so the urge to go sightseeing is considerably reduced, but on Tuesday we went to Vaison La Romaine, because it is market day. Vaison has the best market I've ever been to, so we enjoy wandering round and looking at stuff we have not the slightest intention of buying. I did actually have some commissions - Dan wanted lavender for his newly acquired blanket chest, and Kate wanted rosemary soap. I wanted some soap, too, and ideally an oval tablecloth for the table outside on our terrace. We got all those and then I fell for a dress in Provencal print for my granddaughter. I hope it fits her next summer- it's all a bit guess work a year ahead.

 

The market, Vaison. Everything you can think of
for sale.

Unfortunately the restaurant we normally go to in Vaison has closed and the one we went to, across the Roman Bridge and just into the medieval town, was quite poor with the sort of old fashioned rude and patronising French waiter I thought had died out except in Paris. Still, it was a very pleasant outing.

Wednesday threatened thunder storms so we went for a walk locally, in the village of Rasteau. There's not a lot to see in the village, just the usual medieval gate and remains of the donjon, and a Romanesque church. It did have a superb lavanderie, with numbered places for the washer women and drying lines above. I think it was in use at least into the 1960s. But Rasteau is on a ridge and you can walk several kilometres along the ridge in wooded countryside looking at the views over the vines. Unfortunately we could also see the rain heading towards us, and we had to give up. That night was a terrific thunderstorm and wind and we got up to find the cover of the table tennis table had taken off and flown who knows where, which, although clearly not our fault, is a bit embarrassing.

It is the vendage and the roads are full of agricultural traffic - huge high rigs which straddle the rows of vines, vans carrying field workers, small tractors towing trailers full to the brim of grapes, and even the odd huge truck full of grapes. We can't take more than a bottle or two of wine back, so we are not taking any, but we have enjoyed some excellent wine at some excellent lunches. Our best find is a new (to us) restaurant in St Cecile les Vignes, called Estanquet, where the food is superb.

We went back to Fontaine de Vaucluse, where, in the cave, the water was so low you could actually enter the cave itself. The springs further down seemed to be flowing well, though.

The fontaine - deep down in the cave.

 I love the clear water, all green with the weeds. It looks so tempting for a swim but I have never seen anyone in the water and in fact there are signs forbidding swimming. The friends we were with hadn't been before, so we took them to the restaurant that we always go to, just this side of the bridge, and had a very good meal. They always have pretty and efficient waitresses too. Then we went round the museum of the resistance, which is hardly cheerful but very fair concerning the Vichy government and the attitude of the vast majority of the population.

We had parked near to the church so had a quick look at it. It's twelfth century and very simple and rather fortress like. it reuses some Roman pillars. 

We made a trip to Richerenches where the Knights Templar had a commanderie. The main building has been restored and houses an exhibition on the Templars, a temporary exhibition and a truffle museum. The temporary exhibition was on the film star Mylene Demongeot,  whom we couldn't recall, until we had our memories jogged by the film posters. After that we kept exclaiming "Oh she was in Bonjour Tristesse.- oh, yes, now I remember. " There were some pictures of her as she is now, in her eighties, and she has certainly aged better than Brigitte Bardot.

The truffle museum was interesting mostly because of the film of the truffle market. In order to sell truffles you need a large nose and a walrus moustache, apparently.  The trading goes on in a rather furtive manner out of the boots of cars. The opportunities for black money and for cheating seemed quite extensive.  Apparently there are armed robberies too, but they weren’t mentioned in the museum.

We had lunch in La Garde Audhemer  where there is a super Romanesque church and then To the “Fontaine des Nymphs”. This was a very pretty wooded little valley with a permanent spring, which seems to have been regarded as sacred and healing from at least Celtic times. It was Christianised and various chapels and churches built, all now more or less abandoned, but the place had a very peaceful and pleasant atmosphere.

Healing spring, complete with healthy frog.