Another family vacation in Provence, France

COVID19 restrictions have been lifted and road trip season is back in full swing. Last week we took advantage of these favorable conditions and drove up to Arles, in the Provence region of France. Despite the multipronged threat of ransomware, pandemic variants, and the stereotypical nonchalance of the French, our whole family managed to enjoy a thoroughly safe and pleasant excursion.

Monday Drive to Arles

On DAY ONE, we traversed the Pyrenees from our alpine perch in Spanish Catalonia and made the descent to Villefranche de Conflent. This fortified village in the northeastern foothills of the Pyrenees teems with military history and passing tourists. It captivated our attention for a good 45 minutes before we hopped back in the car and drove on towards Provence.

Our next stop was a rest area just 10 minutes east of Narbonne. Otherwise unremarkable, this gas station and cafeteria is actually the site of an unforgettable episode of family lore. Assiduous readers may remember the time we spent a night here in 2017. Around 3 am, some rapscallion made his way into our VW camper and snatched my backpack. Woken from a light sleep, I leaped from the side door, made chase, and eventually managed to recover the backpack, which included 6 of our passports and several hundred in cash.

So every time we drive to the South of France, it is with some modicum of trepidation, in recollection of near-tragedies gone by. But this drive was strictly uneventful in that sense. Around 8 pm we rolled into Arles, spent a better part of the evening looking for parking, and then dined casually at a local, working-class pizzeria.

Arles and Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer

DAY TWO kicked off with a short drive to the Abbey Montmajour. This medieval fortress and monastery rises from the idyllic landscape of olives and lavender like a fire-breathing Leviathan in a windswept meadow.

Most famously, Vincent Van Gogh painted the ancient architectural megalith on July 4, 1888, and sent his brother a letter the next day to describe his work. We took a few photos, but don’t expect to see them in a museum 150 years from now.

Afterward, we drove south to the sea, delighting my wife with a coastal estuary and bird sanctuary where she sighted her first flock of wild flamingoes. The kids were then elated to arrive at the sea and revel in the shallow and warmish waters of the Mediterranean.

The day ended with a fruitless search for escargot. But at La Bodeguita, we did find an altogether satisfying meal of Tuna Tartar, falafels, and Patatas Bravas, along with some Iberian ham for our omnivorous daughter.

Sauntering through St-Remy

I set out to do some misguided sightseeing in St-Remy on DAY THREE. In search of famous Van Gogh landmarks, we discovered some slightly different sights, including the St. Paul Asylum where the manic artist spent some of his last days and painted about 150 stunning canvases, including his extraordinary Starry Night.

Thinking we would find the scene from his famous Cafe at Night painting in the heart of St-Remy, we instead stumbled upon the birthplace of Nostradamus. Turns out the Cafe at Night was painted in Arles, not St-Remy. The Wednesday market in the center of town was also an excellent place to procure the ingredients for a delicious ratatouille, which we would feast upon that same night.

Back to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer

DAY FOUR was beach day. But first, we dropped off mama at the bird sanctuary, where she would luxuriate among the legions of feathered friends. For the kids and me, the beach was just as great as we’d remembered it from two days earlier.

That evening, my search for escargot continued. Much to my consternation, I realized that the restaurant I’d selected had actually advertised escargot de mer, which is really just muscles, not ordinary terrestrial snails. Foiled again.

So instead, we had a perfectly delectable fish dinner at La Pergùla, another charming cafe on a picturesque side street just around the corner from the 2000-year-old Roman arena. After dinner, we moseyed through this ancient neighborhood and strolled in the footsteps of skull-crushing gladiators.

Arboretum and Astrology

The week was nearing its end, and on Friday, DAY FIVE, we set our sights on Salon-de-Provence. It looks good on the map, has an inviting ring to it, and is famous for housing the tomb of Nostradamus, that legendary soothsayer.

But the highlight turned out to be the modest Arboretum halfway between Arles and Salon. I insisted on a slight detour, and we subsequently discovered what I have since referred to as the best-kept secret in Provence.

Among a profusion of well-marked trees, they also had a small collection of birds. We even saw our very first albino peacocks. We’d never even heard of such a thing. But our daughter has something of a fascination with albinos, and my wife is a passionate birder, so this was a fabulous spectacle.

The kids had a fine time at the botanical park, which is far more than we can say about their tepid reception of the historic highlights of Salon-de-Provence. Meanwhile, my quest for snails dragged on, yet the slippery mollusks continued to elude my eager palate.

Casual Saturday

After a full week of sightseeing and beachcombing, we decided to spend DAY SIX lolly-gagging about the house, often glued to our digital devices. Serendipitously, it was market day in Arles, which meant the streets were closed off, and parking would be an even greater fiasco than usual.

So we perused the stalls and did our best to support the local, agrarian economy. Apricots were succulent and abundant, as were all manner of nightshade produce. I even saw a sign for escargot, but alas, they were sold out. There must have been a run on snails earlier in the morning.

Probably our greatest souvenirs of the week came from this market. A table full of herb and spice mixes caught our attention and assaulted our senses. The savory salesman wouldn’t let us leave without acquiring a few bundles of epicurean blends, which have already added a world of new flavors to our country kitchen.

Rainy Sunday

We woke up on Sunday, the 4th of July, to a sky filled with rain. As the heat and humidity had been bordering on intolerable, this actually came as a welcome relief. It looked like we’d be stuck indoors for another day. But by 2 o’clock the precipitation had begun to abate.

We spent a satisfying hour or two exploring the quiet streets of the city, collecting photos of doors and window shutters. Classic French scenery filled our eyes. But our stomachs grew empty.

Still unable to find a menu with escargot, we ended up at the Tambourine Café, on the Place du Forum. Pasta, Nicoise salad and veggie burgers did not disappoint, nor did the affable waiter who oddly channeled John Malkovich.

Heading Home

Monday morning, DAY EIGHT, marked the last day of our trip. It was also my birthday, and I woke to find a couple of lovely handmade cards from my offspring.

The highlight of the drive home was the aquarium, Planet Ocean World, in Montpelier. Sharks, stingrays and hurricane reenactments had us chewing our nails and clutching our abdomens.

Approaching home, we pulled off at a produce stand. The sign facing the parking lot unmistakably announced escargot. But these were Catalonian snails, not the Provencal preparation I’d been craving. As it happens, the restaurant in our own village serves Catalonian snails, so I’ll probably head there later this week, after I’ve had time to recover from the French disconnection.

PHOTO CREDITS: I took most of the photos. But my wife’s are probably better, so check out her Facebook page.