Tears of joy

For years I have been wanting to return to a magical place in France called Fontain de Vaucluse. The water literally gushes up out of a mountain and to this day even after lots of studying, diving, etc., there are no for sure answers about this phenomenon.

So this morning opération Vaucluse commenced.

I was going to get pastries from Chez Wendy just down the street in homage to my cousin Wendy, but true to her high rating, Chez Wendy was wiped out by the time I got there. So it was back to the boulangerie from the previous day and Jura coffee due to our desire to get on the road.

I had memorized some stores where I existed the parking lot two days before but damn if I could find that entrance again. So there I was taking the long way and walking down into the ramp and hoping no cars were coming!! Parking and driving in these old cities is not for the faint of heart. I got to the street behind our hotel so Amy could bring out the luggage and we could get on our way. It was actually pretty easy to get out of Avignon.

The weather was meh again, but what are you gonna do? As we arrived in the tiny town of Fontaine de Vaucluse, we could see the gorgeous blue green water in the river. It was raining again when I parked , so we had a change of garments before commencing our little hike

We started up the path to the source and the water just got clearer and more intense. We stopped to watch a duck bucking the current and wondered why he felt the need to be there. I had the same amazing feeling at this place as I did the first time—tears of joy to get to experience it a second time. However, one can no longer go all the way up the opening the mountain due to climate change which has made the limestone unsteady.

We wandered around town and up the other side of the river. On the way we passed the Petrarch museum. He is known as one of the founders of the Renaissance and humanism because of his rediscovery of the Greek and Roman classics. He lived in Fontaine de Vaucluse for 14 years because the secluded valley was his muse.

Of course, by now, we are hungry! There was a nice restaurant on the river where I tried a Suze cocktail and we had a light lunch before continuing on the our destination for the next two nights, Menerbes.

But first a stop in a picturesque town perched on a mountain—Gordes. Unfortunately it was pretty dead, but there was a sweet church there that they were trying to refurbish with their meager village budget. There must be thousands of such churches in France.

We made another stop close by to see the Bories. These are a variety of buildings made only of cut rocks. There is no mortar or other substance used to bind them together. Some of the buildings were just for shepherds to take shelter. Others were complete villages and thousands of them can be found in the south of France. This particular clutch has been preserved. Others are falling down or still in use by the owners. I personally cannot get over the arches they built.

Finally, we arrive in Ménerbes. This small mountain top town was made famous in 1989, on the book A Year in Provence. A British author moves his family here and writes about life in the village and trying to get work done on his house. I didn’t choose it knowing this, but because Francois and Maria sounded like great air BNB hosts.

Once we finally found the place, Francois directed us on how to get the car up to the house to unload. But I had to park back down the hill due to construction during the day which blocks the roads. I use term road with some trepidation as it is no very wide and I’m pretty sure he had me going to wrong way on a one way street.

Our room Consisted of an open are with a sofa, table and chairs, and a bed with a little loft for another bed that Amy chose. I got the fire going that Francois had laid and we rested a bit before dinner.

We opted to have our hosts make a meal, which was a great choice because this time of year, all the restaurants in the village are closed. Francois and Maria are the quintessential French couple in appearance and mannerisms, but we found out over dinner that Maria was from Columbia. She had worked in ceramics and pottery and spent some time in Japan. Francois was an anthropologist. I told him I was assigned to an anthropology class at university but I had no idea what it was at the time. We continued to try to converse in French but there was a little Franglais going on. I asked about A Year in Provence, and apparently Peter Mayle made no friends with his complaints about contractors not showing up and his British humor did not sit well with the French.

We had little Olive pies, asparagus vinaigrette and leek tarts, ratatouille, and bananas and chocolate for dessert. Yum yum yum! What a full day! It was back to our cozy room and the fire.