Many miles from work and home...

I am here in the Luberon region in Provence, France, with my husband, a million psychological miles away from work but never that far away from home. It has been raining since we arrived at Nice on Monday but that didn’t stop us from picking up our rental car and driving to Vence, our first stop. The walled city of Vence is spectacular from a distance; inside it’s quite touristy and full of traffic jams. The old city still has its charms though we quickly realised that driving on the right hand side of the road is not the problem; the very old and narrow village roads are! This is also our first trip where we did not have a proper map to guide us. We relied on an incomplete map from the car rental and on road signs most of the way, and don’t think that I wasn’t worried! But we made it and stopped at tourist offices to pick up maps on the way.

After a night in Vence, we drove almost eight hours through half a morning of rain through the Verdon district and onto Luberon. On the way, we saw the gorges of Verdon which reminded us of the Taroko gorge in Taiwan. The drive was more spectacular though. The roads were narrow and winding, and we slowly made our way to the top of the mountains and down again. On the way, we did not see many cars and often we were the only vehicle on the road for miles. Still, the views are breathtaking and spring has also brought verdant fields and colourful wildflowers. My husband declared that there is no bad scenery in Provence and I am inclined to agree with him. Many parts reminded me of England’s Cotswold region from the small country roads to the far flung villages.

Our bed and breakfast place near the village of Bonnieux is a peaceful hideaway, and blessed with a large garden and acres of vineyards and forest nearby. If we strained our ears, we can hear the sound of a motorcar or two. Otherwise it’s only the birds and the gentle hum of silence. We have just returned from driving around the villages and what is amazing is the way many houses were built into the side of the hills. The village Gordes is a good example and the view from just outside the village is more spectacular than what is in the village.

The food so far has been okay, but I think globalisation has ruined some things for me. At Comps-sur-Artuby, we stepped into a historical restaurant which has been operating since 1737 by the same Bain family and was immediately greeted by Coldplay music. Every meal I had here could be eaten in Singapore and I began to wonder what is special here apart from the olive paste, tapenade which not easily obtainable back home. I could be wrong though.

Also, my textbook French, or what is left of it has served me well so far. At least I can make out what’s on the French-only menu and make some basic inquiries and understand what is said to me. Alas, serious conversation eludes me though and it’s a good thing that more people speak English here than what I used to remember of France.

More sightseeing tomorrow. We’re keeping our fingers crossed for good weather. And then it’s on to Aix-en-Provence!