A morning's roaming.

 

One fine early morning, last June, my husband decided that he was going to cycle through the gorge de Nesque .....and so my choice was for him to drop me off at the bottom of the valley near a little hilltop village called Goult in the Ventoux.

 From there I would walk back to the campsite where we were staying.

I would have liked to walk there and back (like my son Trystan and his girlfriend Leila did when they stayed with us in Provence) but the weather was so hot and I didn't think I could cope with the distance there and back in the heat.


An early morning start made sense, you see ?
So, we loaded the bike on the car and off we trundled.

  Philip dropped me off just after a roundabout at the bottom of the valley and I wended my way rather gingerly up the hill towards the village.

There are no pavements whatsoever in this part of the world and really there are no walker friendly verges even really - as there are rather deep ditches/trenches  immediately off the roadway.

So, whenever a car came (almost always at top speed) I sort of had to scramble and find a bit of safe ground to hover on while they sped me by !!



All a bit fraught for a middle aged biddy if two cars came at once as the road was single lane really. In fact I almost turned back at one stage simply out of fright as I really didn't relish falling into the ditches !!

Anyway I persevered and eventually reached the ancient washing area just outside the village, halfway up the hill.

Time for a pause and a breather while I took some photos.






This area was meant mainly for the itinerant workers who arrived to help with the harvests - first the fruit - cherries mainly and then with the grape harvest.

 There simply were not enough locals to cope with all this harvesting of abundance and water is a necessity for us all.

Even as a caravaner I know that fresh clean water is essential to a decent life, so in those olden times it would have been even more so.

Clean water for drinking and also clean water for washing yourself and your clothes. A must, and it was well provided.


I then made my way, puffing up the hilll to the village centre itself.
  We had been here several times before and done all the village sightseeing (another blog possibly), this time, I just wanted to buy a drink and a picnic to eat on the way back.


I found the village grocery shop (the only one in fact) and bought a couple of figs, a few slices of salami, a bottle of water and some bread. Enough for a petit dejuner on my return walk down hill. By now it was hotting up horrendously and I needed to find shade and sit down a while !!


My picnic spot was a bench on the way down the hill, and overlooked the cherry orchards where I could hear the pickers at work - full of merriment and jolly banter as they beavered away. They seemed incredibly noisy and happy despite the heat !!

Sadly the area was fenced off or I would have bought some of the cherries. I am not quite up to scrambling over ditches and fences anymore.

At the bottom of the hill I had a right turn to make and then was on the back road towards the campsite. Hopefully I would not be so bothered by the cars, and in fact only saw 3 cars the whole way back.

Bliss, I could walk in the middle of the road !!

To start with it was uphill again ( and very steeply too) but I kept turning round and taking photos and catching my breath while doing so.


It amazes me how they plant vines in even the smallest corner of land - we in the Uk seem to waste land in camparison.

Or, is it that we are so rich and comfortable that it is simply not worth our while making all the effort with cultivation when we can simply pop down the cop-op or Morrisons and buy a bottle of wine ?

I passed what seemed like acres of vineyards and eventually came to La Verriere.

This is the farm from which we have bought most of the wine we drank while in Provence. It is sold absolutely everywhere in the area and I think he doesn't export anything at all. It is now in it's fourth generation of cultivation and we quaffed it quite happily !!!

All these little farms are quite happy for you to have tastings as they actually produce several different types of wines depending on the variety of grape and the 'terroir' it is grown on.

All very technical and way above and beyond the knowledge I need to know what I like to drink.


It was interesting to see all the rosebushes at the end of the rows of vines - something to do with moulds and infestations of greenfly I gathered. They check the roses regularly and if there is any sign of whatever, they get busy spraying.


 Not quite sure how eco all that is really. Probably best not to ask.


Though we did find a bio wine at a local market - and he said he did not use sulphur to sterilize stuff and as an asthmatic this is v important.


  I almost died once when inhaling sulphur fumes (I was sterilizing bottles for some home brew Philip and I had made 30 odd years ago - and had to use sulphur dioxide).

 My lungs seized up and Philip had to carry me to the surgery !!

Lucky to be alive still really.


Anyway, I rambled on, getting thirstier and thirstier and hotter and hotter. My water bottle was well and truly empty by now.

 How anybody could be out walking and working in this heat beats me.

  I'd collapse pretty soon !!



I passed some wonderful gardens (I figured they were owned by expats - the style a bit of a giveaway and also the fact that they were as grand as they were compared to everything else around them !).

The french on the whole go in mostly for salads and veg and a few flowers here and there but not major landscaping like the rich english abroad.

The views towards Bonnieux were
a delight, we can actually see the village from the caravan but it is at night that it is glorious - all those twinklings, a sign of life being lived despite the darkness.

Eventually I find the hometrack - one I have walked many many times these last few weeks.

 Sadly it is uphill again but by now I know it is not far to go.

I love this stretch of land, passing a derelict cottage, vineyards by the acre and various houses on both sides whose gardens I love to peep into. One of which is having major works done - it turns out to be a swimming pool !!!


It was rather sad that he had to cut down a few trees to achieve the space but needs must I suppose, and Provence is not short of trees...

.and the sound of the ever present chainsaw - a caravaner's bane if ever there was one.

I trundle back into the campsite, straight into the shop and buy myself a refreshing drink.....

never was a low alcohol lager more delicious and benficial to a human being.....

phew, a good ramble and an even better getting back to camp.

Joy indeed.







　

　

　

　

　

　
　

　

Artyfarty !

While in London, ages ago it seems now, but in fact it was in early spring, I went and treated myself to a whole new set of student quality acrylic paints, suitable brushes, thinners, drying retarders and a whole set of assorted palette knives.

 Good beginners stuff so I wouldn't get all precious about it all and what I turned out eventually.

So my aim was to have a little fun both with colour and texture and see what happened.....


Well, I had a few sessions and some fun paintings appeared. I am not what you 'd call a graphic artist at all but just like to mess around with paints.

In fact I often feel I'd really like to paint with my hands and fingers and not use brushes/knives at all ! just like children do at nursery ?


Anyway, one day I'd been encouraging my husband, Philip, to have some fun too. He used to do a lot of artworks, but about 30 years ago !!

We thought it would be better for him just 'to go for it' and so use the pallette knives (a first for him in fact) - as it is a lot harder to ffaff about with these than it is with brushes.


As Philip is a perfectionist in almost everything he does I did not want him to get stressed and so pallette knives it was (me thinking well he can't with these can he ?).

Little did I know ! and really I should have known better and just trust him to do a wonderful painting which is what he did in the end.

I fished out all the kit, cleared the tables in the awning of the caravan (it was far too hot to sit outside in the sun) and off we went. He on his table, me on mine.



It was great fun, and I photographed the various stages involved with his painting. I did not think of doing mine !

His style of working is totally different from mine and I noticed that on the whole he only used the tip of the pallette knife to as to be more accurate !! he will never be an impressionist as he likes actuality in paintings and they have to look 'real'.


His finished painting took about three afternoons of work, and I sometimes think that if left to himself he would have carried on refining it over and over. I must admit that I encouraged him no to do this.

His finished painting is quite beautiful, totally his own work and interpretation of a tiny photograph out of a magazine.


 Now we just need to be somewhere long enough for him to start another one.




Most of our journeys have a purpose (orienteering competitions) and there is in fact very little leisure time.

 

You'd be amazed how long it takes to just live an ordinary life in a caravan as you have to walk everything everywhere !!


We have sort of decided to bring along a printer when we next travel as we have so many photographs that we'd like to work from.



 We are both avid photographers these days, well, especially me as I have a tiny pocket camera with an amazing Swiss lens.

Brilliant, as I can pop it in my bag and whisk it out whenever anything vaguely interesting catches my eye.

This seems to happen an awful lot.....




Eventually when we decide to travel less we shall dedicate one bedroom totally to being a studio, and I shall invest in a great quantity of oil paints and really good brushes and canvases etc.

 The work we do now is just practice really and the more we do the better we'll get?

The main thing though is to just enjoy the whole process and think of it as fun, otherwise why do it at all ?

That's how I think about it at least, not so sure about Philip, although as you can see he's smiling !




Philip's final piece.

　

　

Roussillon

This is one of the landmark villages of France. 

 Quite a few of these exceptional villages have been earmarked as being amongst the most beautiful in France and deservedly so.


They even have their own special road sign that tells you it is so !!


Roussillon is actually one of the 'villages perches' - which simply means it a 'perched' village. Built on the top of an outcrop of rock (wouldn't quite go so far as to call this one a mountain) .

This was mainly done for safety in the days when neighbours mauraded n pillaged etc .... but these days the benefit is mainly in the fantastic location and even more magnificent viewsof the surrounding countryside.
Breathtaking indeed....

Well, we were totally wowed.

 This place was quite fantastic and we were bowled over by the beautiful range of ochres/reds/pinks/yellow/lilacs and other assorted colours which the seemingly haphazard arrangement of houses were decorated with.

All of which originate from the ochre coloured cliffs and quarries in the area around and by now under the village !


There is something like 20 kms of underground tunnels where the earth has been dug out, sifted, treated and sold on as paint colouring for various uses and this is still carried on today but with more mechanical means of extraction!!

There are various courses in the area where you can learn how to get the most magical effects using these wonderful soft colours.


 It is on my wish list to do one of these as I would just love to decorate the house in softly glowing colours next time. No more Dulux tins !! but hand mixed paints.


We were camped just 3 km outside this village for 6 weeks at a marvellous site called L'Arc en Ciel - the Rainbow !! It was a rambling, ramshackle sort of site, with lots of semi-resident caravans and nowadays chalets too.

It was run by two ladies, one a very friendly jolly lady named.......who ran the office and coffee shop/bar and the other lady, Geraldine, who did lots of the odd jobs around the place and whizzed about in her golf buggy scattering all ahead of her !

She was an absolute powerpack and both worked very hard to accommodate everyone and to keep the place ticketyboo.



I used to just love seeing her all swathed up in protective clothing, helmet, gloves, face guard etc attacking all the weeds and grasses with her enormous petrol strimmer!!

 I was full of admiration that she could do all that in the heat and still come up smiling and chatting and joking with everyone.

A real trooper and a really lovely lady too, and I was even more amazed when I learnt that last year she'd smashed her leg very badly.

It was full of pins and steel which had to be taked out at the end of this season. Crumbs....

It was a jolly place and many of the campers we met there had been coming back to the same site for umpteen years. 

 There was a brilliant pool, nice hot showers, a pizza van that came every monday and cooked fresh pizza in an oven, and thursdays there was another van which came with moules frites ! and a few extras too.

We had a great time at this site as it was handy for sightseeing, walking and cycling from.
 A great bonus for me was I could walk into Roussillon whenever I wanted to and just mooch about there admiring and of course, people watching.

There was quite a network of paths and cycle tracks in the area so we were never short of places to wander off to and it was all quite stunningly beautiful. I could live there quite happily.

Sadly, my other half thinks it is all too touristy and too busy by half but there are ways to avoid all this like going in to the village early morning for example.

 I quite like the buzz of market days and I'm almost sure that come the autumn the area is peaceful with just the odd tourist like us still hanging around !

We'll just have to come back and see, won't we ?

The weekly market was full of wonderful things to eat and buy - hard to resist sometimes and especially good was the evening market for the local producers to showcase their goods.

Huge cherries picked that afternoon were simply luscious and the local goats cheeses too - all in various forms (wrapped in vine leaves, sprinkled with peppercorns or local herbs, thyme mainly etc ) quite delicious.


The local vineyards also had their stalls set up in these markets. Tastings were free and encouraged !!

Roussillon had a thriving community centre where they had various exhibitions, salsa dance classes, martial arts classes etc and there was often music in the streets and of course at the local festivals. 

The Europeans seem to really enjoy an outing, for whatever reason, and wherever there is music there will be dancing and all alike join it.

Great fun and something that you don't see so often in the uk, and I just love a good bop !!



Enjoy the photos.

 I took hundreds and have selected what I thought were the most interesting/beautiful/arty/worth looking at ..... etc so I suppose that in fact I just chose them 'cos I liked them. I feel I will be happy in years to come and browse this blog and just reminisce about this gorgeous little village and its colourfulness.....

Enough of a reason really, well, for me anyway !