Thursday, October 19, 2006
Aix de Provence Saturday the 14th
Ok, so I'm moving to Aix to learn French and eat myself silly on their produce!
Stereotype Provence, Cezanne and Van Gogh, fresh French provincial produce, markets, jacarander and royal blue, terracotta and salmon pink colours, lavender farms, canals, sunshine, slow paced life...
I'm sitting at a fountain on a sunny day listening to a dixie jazz band; eating fat, freshly roasted and salted pistachios and fresh, firm pears. I have pesto, tapinade and soft goats cheese with my bagette for lunch; to be followed by fresh peach and a citrus pastry tart...mmm...gormet heaven...all bought at the local market this morning as iwandered the lanes and squares.
Postscript: I didn't even dint the supplies I bought - had enough for dinner that night, breakfast and lunch the next day from my supplies.
The tourists are different here to Paris, more people 25-45, less over 65s. The locals are not so glam either, so you don't stand out as muchas a traveller. So much character...
I can't believe it...well Ican...wandering a quiet street trying to loose the Saturday crowds. First I stop to listen to a violin and cello being played, their music cascading from a third floor window across a private garden and its wall to the street. And then \istop at a small door advertising a gallery and Salon de The' - or tea house. I wander in and behind the art another small door beckons to a peaceful, almost silent, private garden with trickling fountain, a white pidgeon, washing in the fountain (yes, it's true), ivy, impatiens, palm trees and plane trees. Here I drank coffee, rested my feet, relaxed my eyes on the soft greens and wrote.
I don't know, do I want to learn French or just have them speak sexy English to me - not that they speak English in Aix back streets...
As I sit here in the back garden of at least four private buildings with private apartments, I see great 'romance' but the reality behind this for these people is probably pretty hard work. The buildings are 100-300 years old, very shabby, they have been broken into apartments from grand homes. When you peak in the ground floor, behind the imposing front door is a tiled common space with a huge staircase winding up around the outside wall. There are at least four floors and no lift for those at the top. There doesn't seem to be parking and the exteriors have lots of broken shutters and gutters. I think life is simpler than city people but more focussed on survival - gathering food and family - keeping safe together. Maybe like Jacki and Dave experienced in Croatia?...
The only 'attraction' I visited in Aix worth noting was la Cathedrale Saint-Sauveur. This church was a hotch potch of history. With bits from 5th-18th century still being used today. Most unimposing but very interesting reflection of reality through the ages, useit, changeit to suit and get on with reality...
Ok, so I'm moving to Aix to learn French and eat myself silly on their produce!
Stereotype Provence, Cezanne and Van Gogh, fresh French provincial produce, markets, jacarander and royal blue, terracotta and salmon pink colours, lavender farms, canals, sunshine, slow paced life...
I'm sitting at a fountain on a sunny day listening to a dixie jazz band; eating fat, freshly roasted and salted pistachios and fresh, firm pears. I have pesto, tapinade and soft goats cheese with my bagette for lunch; to be followed by fresh peach and a citrus pastry tart...mmm...gormet heaven...all bought at the local market this morning as iwandered the lanes and squares.
Postscript: I didn't even dint the supplies I bought - had enough for dinner that night, breakfast and lunch the next day from my supplies.
The tourists are different here to Paris, more people 25-45, less over 65s. The locals are not so glam either, so you don't stand out as muchas a traveller. So much character...
I can't believe it...well Ican...wandering a quiet street trying to loose the Saturday crowds. First I stop to listen to a violin and cello being played, their music cascading from a third floor window across a private garden and its wall to the street. And then \istop at a small door advertising a gallery and Salon de The' - or tea house. I wander in and behind the art another small door beckons to a peaceful, almost silent, private garden with trickling fountain, a white pidgeon, washing in the fountain (yes, it's true), ivy, impatiens, palm trees and plane trees. Here I drank coffee, rested my feet, relaxed my eyes on the soft greens and wrote.
I don't know, do I want to learn French or just have them speak sexy English to me - not that they speak English in Aix back streets...
As I sit here in the back garden of at least four private buildings with private apartments, I see great 'romance' but the reality behind this for these people is probably pretty hard work. The buildings are 100-300 years old, very shabby, they have been broken into apartments from grand homes. When you peak in the ground floor, behind the imposing front door is a tiled common space with a huge staircase winding up around the outside wall. There are at least four floors and no lift for those at the top. There doesn't seem to be parking and the exteriors have lots of broken shutters and gutters. I think life is simpler than city people but more focussed on survival - gathering food and family - keeping safe together. Maybe like Jacki and Dave experienced in Croatia?...
The only 'attraction' I visited in Aix worth noting was la Cathedrale Saint-Sauveur. This church was a hotch potch of history. With bits from 5th-18th century still being used today. Most unimposing but very interesting reflection of reality through the ages, useit, changeit to suit and get on with reality...
# posted by The Essence of Good Taste @ 5:52 AM 
