Lourmarin, Provence

I'm going to light our guidebook on fire. It led us on a hunt for a silly little fountain in Aix. Now it told us that Lourmarin, the charming town in the distance, was basically an ok place for a car to breakdown and while stuck there go see some chateau.

So we rolled into town thinking we'd see a chateau and move onto the next town. Au contraire. This town is awesome. It's really got everything. Great little cafes. Excellent art galleries. Charming, narrow lanes. The grave of Albert Camus. Really everything.

We wandered. We saw the chateau. I paid respects to Camus, recalling a study abroad summer where I read his entire works over espresso and angst. We dined at a great little patio on garden fresh tomatoes while watching the world scurry by. We nearly bought some extremely dark modern art (but passed upon reflection and with full stomachs).

Anyway, Lourmarin is wonderful. Tonight we dine at Cucuron and then onward tomorrow to cooking class.

Truffle Hunt at Las Pastras

A weigh in of the day's haul. We discovered that the highest and best use of the truffle is truffle ice cream drizzled with truffle honey.

Provence

We have made it to Provence. We spent yesterday wandering Aix-en-Provence. Lunch of steak frites at an outdoor cafe once frequented by Cezanne, Zola, and Picasso. Wandered by an assortment of fountains, some mossy, some not. Then drove down smaller and smaller country roads until arriving at a beautifully restored 17th century farmhouse. The designer who brought the place back to life managed a perfect balance of preserving the integrity of the structure while tying in modern art and furnishings. The place is captivating.

Last night we traveled to Las Pastras in Cadenet for a truffle hunt. The tour was fascinating, and I have a renewed appreciation for this remarkable food. At the end of the tour we gorged on truffle as the sun set over the olive fields and vineyards. We will savor the memory of this experience for some time.

Eze

Eze is stunning. The view below is from our balcony where we sit this morning with the smell of croissants coming from the kitchen below. Strong smells of lavender and olive otherwise dominate the air here. Yesterday we managed to pull ourselves from just staring at this scene to take a long walk down to the village. The meandering brick paths give the place a storybook feel.

London

We have arrived in London where we have a short layover before pushing on to Nice. As Heathrow air traffic control sent us on circles around the city, I spotted some familiar spots from study abroad 14 (!) years ago. But this trip is about new adventures, so I have high hopes for a nap on the next leg. The coast awaits.

Bon Voyage: Eze, Provence, Rhone Valley

I'm long overdue to try to resurrect this thing.  I think somewhere in the whirlwind of two children, relocation to a new city, the availability of other social media, and an intense workload the dear old blog has collected dust, another dormant page in a vast sea of content.

Megan and I are soon off to France for a kid-free trip in honor of our tenth anniversary.  It seems fitting to bring the blog back to life, as we founded it as the main way to keep our family updated while on our honeymoon to Africa.   We are actually a bit out of our element taking a trip like this.  Instead of limiting my packing to three shirts I can wash in a sink and hang dry, I packed actual grown up clothing made of actual cotton.  Instead of limiting myself to my trusty Chacos--whose legacy still tattoos my feet--I have shoes with tops on them.  Instead of extensive health clinic trips for vaccinations and preventative medication, I think I get to just show up and drink wine.  Anyway, it's confusing.

Our plans take us to Nice, where we will rent a car and head up the coast to Eze.  After a few days on the coast, we plan to work our way back through Provence and into the Rhone Valley.  There will be cooking classes.  There will be wine.  There will be relaxation.  I will stretch the limits of the one year of French I took at Amarillo High School to impossible and hopefully not insulting bounds.  Adieu, adieu, adieu--