A Good Day

Didn't Peter Mayle write a book, that eventually became a movie starring Russell Crowe, called A Good Year? (Answer: yes...oh that omnipresent Peter Mayle! He's everywhere here in Provence. I don't think I'll be able to read any of his stuff until I'm old, immobile, and have nothing else to do but romantically reminisce about my fabulous year in Provence-I think it'd be overload to read him now)

Anyways, my life on Sunday reminded me of this movie I've never seen:

The day started out bleakly: grey and too early. Steve, Zandra and I caught a 9am bus from Avignon to L'Isle, where we wandered around the infamous market and got drenched when the foreboding clouds finally burst. Then we disgruntledly tromped out to one of my teachers' homes, where we picked up her car which she generously lent us for the day to discover the nearby countryside. But only after drinking coffee and chatting it up with her for awhile, and learning that Provencaux are pretentious bastards, and the main reason she's so nice and friendly and welcoming to me is because she's originally Parisienne. (Suddenly, much about the last 9 months makes sense...)

Gordes
We made our way to Gordes, one of the most beautiful cities in France (according to themselves, of course, and some official list). We ate our picnic in the car because it was still drizzly (spicy olives, bread, goat cheese, strawberries, apricots, does it get any better?). We walked around. I saw a snail.

Rousillon
Known for ocres (ochre? ocre), brilliantly bright red/orange/yellow sand/dirt from which they extract fabric and paint dyes. We couldn't have planned it better: just as we were walking through the ocre park, and commenting on how it felt like we had been transported out of France, the sun decided to gloriously appear, making the breathtaking natural wonders even more breathtaking.

Apt
Underwhelming, but we stumbled onto some carny-infested, teeny-bopping, ghetto-ass fair in the middle of town, complete with a D-level parade with pirates on stilts, the Marquis de Sade, and an olive princess that entertained us for a time (yum churros).

Bonnieux
A drive-by photo-op, but I can say I've been there, done that!

Lacoste
Ditto.

Faire le stop
To top it all off, we got the car back to Dominique, a queen among women, right around the time the last train was leaving for Avignon. Let it get us down? Never! Zandra proposed we hitchhike the 20-odd kilometer trek, and so we did! The first guy took us only to the next town over, the second guy (originally from Reunion, an island off the coast of Madagascar) took us almost all the way, and then a young woman (about our age) drove us to the city walls. We are rockstars! Then we made enchiladas and watched some more of the greatest miniseries of all time: Angels in America.

Today Robyn (American baker) drove me and a Japanese pastry chef interning with her husband for a few days around Les Alpilles, and we checked out Les Beaux. Hooray for checking things off the list! Now I just need to get to the Chateau d'If (I've been here going on 9 months and still haven't gotten down there!), and I'll be content.