It’s about the Journey

Saturday afternoon, we were driving on the highway towards Avignon.  My sister, Mara was sitting up front and pointed out an old church on top of the hill.  “Check that out” she said.  She looked on her phone and determined it was Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-Beauregard  in the little town of Orgon.  “Do you want to get off ?” I asked.  “Sure, let’s do it.” Mara responded.

We exited and drove around the round-about towards the Church.  I noticed a sign for Saint-Rémy which is a town on my radar to visit. Following signs to Notre-Dame, we drove up a steep windy hill that had no shoulder.  Since we were on the edge of a cliff,   I honked the horn to avoid surprising any cars coming our way.  “That’s smart.” Brewster said.   I appreciated the approval.

The view over the Luberon was gorgeous.  As was the church.

We explored and walked around the hill and the gardens.  We could see the TGV across the valley and noted that we almost were on that train.  If we had been on the train, we would not had stopped at the church.  Nor would we have had lunch in Saint-Rémy and explored Van Gogh’s mental asylum.

The adventure is in the journey.  Not the destination.

This past weekend was an example of that cliché.  Our destination was Avignon and the hook was  a show called Vibrations.  I saw a poster for the show a few weeks ago at the Marseille airport when I was dropping off Matt.  I had wanted to go to Avignon because it is an ancient walled city on the Rhône river.  Generations of Popes lived in a Palace there (Palais des Papes) from the 14th-18th century.  The show was a night sound and light extravaganza in the Palace and I thought the kids would love it.  I was right!

Mara sent me an email a week after I arrived in France asking if I was free for a visit in late September.  Yes, yes, yes! I responded.  I thought an overnight in Avignon with her would be perfect so I booked a hotel and bought tickets to the show.

Mara arrived last Friday from Chicago.  I took the bus to the Marseille airport to pick her up and was overwhelmed when I spotted her walking out of customs.  We talked the entire way home to Aix and I was excited as we neared my apartment.  “Here it is” I said as I opened the door.  “WOW.  It’s cute Sara” she said. I beamed.  The house tour was quick, and I had fun showing it off.

Mara laid down for an hour and then we headed out to an art exhibit in an old church, The Chapelle Granet XX .   I thought  I had two free tickets to the Picasso exhibit at the Musée Granet from when Matt was here,  but when Mara and I went to that museum, they said our tickets were for an exhibit around the corner.  We walked to the church and were pleasantly surprised to see a Van Gogh,  a Monet, a handful of Picasso and many other European artists on display.  Jean Plaque was an art collector and friend to many of these artists.  His foundation renovated the chapel  in 2013.  The museum rotates pieces from his collection every six months.

When we were done looking around, it was nearly four o’clock.   We walked to school to pick up Sadie and took the bus home.  Brewster  is out at 3pm on Fridays so we met him back at the apartment and caught up.  We ate dinner and crashed hard that night.

Saturday morning, Mara and I walked to the Aix-en-Provence market on Cours Mirbeau which is only 10 minutes from our apartment.  Mara bought some pottery, napkins, a tablecloth and some French sausage.  We devoured a croissant and headed over to the rental car agency to pick a car to drive to Avignon.

We needed a car because Brewster made a French basketball team (details coming in another post) and had three basketball games on Sunday.  Last week, when I translated the email from the coach and learned that he had games on Sunday I was disappointed thinking we’d have to cut our visit to Avignon short.  However when I looked at the map, I realized that his games were in Lambesc, a small town half way between Avignon and Aix.  We easily could rent a car and make it all happen.  And having a car was a novelty! The kids were happy to pack a bag for the car rather than to carry the bags on their back. And having Mara was an added bonus.

Driving  in France was an adventure.  Mara doesn’t drive stick, so I was the behind the wheel.  It took me a few minutes to acclimate,  but soon I was comfortable.  Instead of traffic lights there are roundabouts making me feel like Chevy Chase in “European Vacation”.  The French drive fast so my challenge was stay calm.  Slow and steady!  Mara’s exceptional navigating skills helped.  We were never lost thanks to Google maps. I marvel almost everyday what it would be like to use a paper map to find our way.  I bet we’d drive slower and walk around with a map in our hands instead of a phone. But certainly we’d be more lost.  At least I would be!

After exploring Notre-Dame-de-Beauregard, we lunched in Saint-Rémy.  It was a perfect Provencal town to visit.   Mara has not been this part of France and Saint-Rémy is right out of a picture book with the narrow streets, plaza, church, and stone buildings decorated with shutters and flowers. 

Sadie was excited because this town was where Vincent van Gogh, her favorite artist painted before he died.  We paid a visit to the Saint-Paul asylum where he self-admitted himself after cutting off his ear.  He painted a few very famous paintings at the asylum including a self-portrait that we saw in Paris, Starry Night and flowers (Irises, Lilacs, Roses) . None of the original paintings are in  Saint-Rémy but they have prints throughout the asylum.

We didn’t arrive to Avignon until 4pm.  It turned out to be a perfect timing because we found parking on the street for 2euro.  I had bailed on a garage earlier because it was to 26euro for the night.  My frugality prevents me from paying that much for parking until I exhaust all options.  Since there are no cars in Avignon, parking is expensive.  My parking angels came to our aide on Saturday and we found a spot right on the street, near our hotel.

We dropped our bags and left to explore.  The Pope Palace, cathedral and Rhône River were all beautiful.

We didn’t go inside any of the monuments. Instead,  we enjoyed the ancient landmarks and pedestrian vibe outside.  Tiny alleyways, plazas, and ancient buildings make up Avignon.  For dinner, we at at crêpes in a plaza under some very big trees.   Mara guessed the trees were Sycamore, similar to those we grew up with in Lake Forest.  She googled “trees of Provence” and found out they are “French Plane” trees.  She was excited to read that Plane trees are in the same family with the Sycamore.

At 9pm we walked over to the Palace and joined the masses of people going into the light show.  For 25 minutes, we were delighted by the beautiful images projected on the palace walls.  It was a juxt of position.  State of the art sound and lights filled the 14th century palace.  We all loved it but it really blew the kids away.

“This is AMAZING Mom, thank you” they repeated all night long.  I kept thinking about the person who came up with the idea.  Someone thought it would be cool to create this show in this palace.  I thought of Walt Disney and the quote, “First, think. Second, believe. Third, dream. And finally, dare.”

Sunday morning, the roads were empty leaving Avignon.  It was a good thing because the route out of the walled city was insane. Only in Europe!  We arrived at the Lambesc Gymnasium at 9:30am and were there all day.  Brewster’s basketball team played hard but did not come away with any wins.  Despite that, Brewster was happy, sweaty and already a leader on his team.  I laughed watching him snack on nuts and power-aide in between games and teammates ate ham and cheese baguettes.  Many of the parents, including his coach smoke.  France is a different world.

In between games, Mara, Sadie and I explored Lambesc.  It too was a quaint town with a plaza, church, boulangerie and old houses with flowered shutters.   The most interesting place we discovered was on top of a hill in a nearby park.  It was the Monument des Heros et Martyrs dedicated to those in the French Resistance.  As we were driving back to the gym, Mara said, “You certainly would never see that the train.”  So true.

Monday was Mara’s last day in France.  She wanted to see the Mediterranean Sea.  After we dropped off Sadie at school (Brewster took the bus earlier by himself for the first time),  we returned one rental car and picked up another one.  We drove to Cassis which is only 35 minutes away by car.  I showed off all the little spots we found the weekend before and we walked around the port.  It was too cool to swim and too rough to boat so we decided to explore the next town over, La Ciotat. I lived in La Ciotat in 1989 for a few weeks one summer and I barely remembered it.  Once we arrived at the beach, my memories sort of came back.   I was there almost 30 years ago.  It begs the question, how old am I?  (44!)

We made a lunch reservation  in a nearby calanque and at the Restaurant la de Figuerolles.  Our view from the table was out of a coffee table book.  It reminded us of our beloved St Barths.  We enjoyed a delicious French lunch and soulful conversation.  Monday was a day for the books!   And I had no idea how it was going to unfold prior to the moment. It fit perfectly with the motto from our weekend adventures.  It is all in the journey.

Thank you Mara for visiting me.  I love you.