Aix en Provence is a lovely city. It is old, and beautiful– just what you want when traveling in the south of France. Aix en Provence with a local, and better yet, with a friend was the perfect finale to a two month excursion in France. We had more laughs, and deep conversations with Delena, Gerald, and Doreen than seemed could fit into the short week we spent together.
Each day we had so many experiences that we could have written to you about. But, with the increase in time spent out and about with others, came a decrease in time spent writing (as you well know). Chris took plenty of pictures, and as you know, with pictures being worth a thousand words, you are about to read a masterpiece…
Delana has a magical car, the magical car’s name is Thor. Thor gave us quite a hard time at first, he needed some electricity, he made Chris car sick, but in the end he was a trusty and enjoyable way to venture about. We went on a jaunt through the suburbs of Aix, we went to a wine cooperative (SO COOL), and we bought some of the tastiest dried meat we’ve ever enjoyed (Fondue-style with some stinky cheese called Mont d’Or).
On our third-to-last day we headed towards the city of Avignon. In the 1300’s Avignon was chosen by Pope Clement V for his residence… instead of Rome! It is also home to the Palace of the Popes, an imposing medieval construction that cost too much for our tastes, but provided a decent view of the Rhone river and the Pont de Avignon.
Two days to lift off we had one of the best experiences of our adventure yet. We climbed into Thor and headed back towards Arles, but this time we went south into a region known as the Camargue. The Camargue is home to a huge natural park, and ornithological area, and is also well known for its cowboys. Yep, cowboys. Super awesome. I should mention that the Camargue is also right on the Mediterranean, and also home to the worst meal of our whole trip. New rule for eating on the cheap on the street: make sure “cooking” isn’t a euphemism for microwaving. But that’s not important. What is important is that we got to ride horses on a stunningly beautiful warm day, even galloping for a while (until Chris’s horses tried to send him flying), with a wonderful friend.
So, we’re in London now, and it’s very bittersweet. We had some hard times, we had infinitely more wonderful times, and we can’t wait for the next time we will come to France. We’ve definitely both been bitter by the bug, and will soon be going to baguette and brie withdrawals. We couldn’t have asked for more wonderful hosts, especially our last. Delana’s generosity will always hold a place in our hearts, and we only hope to someday be able to return the favor. So until next time, France, bisous et au revoir !