Here’s a snapshot of the salon of the apartment I rented last summer in Aix-en-Provence. It’s right off the main market place and I was so excited to BE there. I planned on cooking in more than I actually did–and there’s no excuse for that since the food marchés were literally below my apartment window! Speaking of which….
I spent the day in Arles during my visit and it was exhausting but satisfying as usual. I’d never gotten so close to the Bridge of Lions before but as I was there with my photographer brother (in addition to my husband), we walked right up to the lions so he could get the shots he wanted. I was so impressed with the expression on the lion’s face. So regal, so
arrogant. (I’m not showing the other picture of the lion with a pigeon sitting on his head–a lot less regal! Haha.)
I was reminded how much I love the smells in Provence. Not just the omnipresent lavender and lemons but the floral perfumes that the French women never seem to be without.
This abbey–the Montmajour Abbey–was amazing. So much so that they used it for the filming of the movie, “The Lion in Winter.” I’m definitely thinking Maggie has to discover a body here some time soon. 🙂
It’s very hard for someone like me to slow down. I do not smell the roses when there’s always so much to do. Here in Aix, roses-smelling (well, really lavender) is a main pastime and an art that I really wanted to master. My husband is convinced he’ll be the one giving the eulogy between the two of us because I can’t spell the word
mellow let alone be it. But if I was ever going to learn how to do it, I swear it would be in beautiful, slow-paced, ethereal, magical Aix-en-Provence. In a cafe, sipping a coffee or an exquisite rosé and watching the world go by –without feeling the need to jump up and run with it.
Whether people-watching (or being watched!) I can’t think of a more idyllic way to spend an afternoon…or a morning…or an evening.
How in the world was I ever going to replicate the experience back in Nocatee?? Or is that the whole point of vacations?
You don’t replicate the experience. You remember wistfully, fondly–until you save up enough to go back again.