Our itinerant days of meandering through the south of France were
over. The time to settle down had arrived and a satisfying, stay-put month in
Aix-en-Provence, a Provençale paradise if ever there was one was ahead of us.
An amazingly dynamic, livable little town, Aix lies about 20 miles north of Marseille, 40 miles south of the Luberon and 90
miles west of the Riviera. It has been continually inhabited since it was
founded in 123 BC by the Romans who luxuriated in the thermal waters that
continue to flow and provide modern-day hydrotherapy pleasures and benefits at
the Sextuis Baths Spa.
The hub of Aixois activity is the Cours Mirabeau, one of the most beautiful
avenues in the world. It starts at the grand Fontaine de la Rotonde and runs to the stone statue of Le Roi René (a favorite
leaning post for tourist snapshots). It’s the Champs Elysées of the south but with a small town vibe and none of Paris’ hustle-bustle and conceit. The broad boulevard
is bordered by elegant 18th-century hôtels
particuliers, shaded by double rows of soaring plane trees, dotted with fountains
and lined with chic cafes that spill onto its sidewalks. The most famous eatery
along the Cours is the Deux Garçons,
built in 1792 and whose most famous patrons were native sons Paul Cézanne and
Emile Zola in the late 19th century. The boulevard traces the line
of what was the ancient city wall and splits the town in two: the new town,
known as the Quartier Mazarin, with
its classical grid patterned streets to the south and the old town, its medieval,
irregular streets twisting to the north.
The place we called home for our month in Aix was a third-floor
walk-up in the Quartier Mazarin just a couple short blocks off the Cours
Mirabeau. Our one-bedroom apartment was bright, modern and
filled with natural light. While not air-conditioned, it had an industrial
strength fan that chased away the heat of the midday sun and allowed for
comfortable sleeping. The weather in
Aix was consistent: sunny, hot and dry. On occasion, the day dawned with a
light cover of clouds, but the relentless sun soon reminded the interlopers of who’s
boss and by 9 am, all had cleared to an impossibly blue sky.
Our
arrival in Aix coincided with the July 14th Bastille Day weekend.
Having missed the Fourth of July at home, we’d looked forward to pretending
that the holiday fireworks would be in honor of American's birthday. But much
to our chagrin, Bastille Day at the Rotonde Fountain was a great
big disappointment. The town elders decided to replace the customary fireworks
with an uninspiring ten-minute son et
lumière show and unfortunately, the Americans in attendance were more into
Bastille Day than the French. Oh, there were some red, white and blue lights on
the fountain to honor the French tricolor,
but not a note of patriotic music was played – just excerpts from Bolero, the
William Tell Overture and La Traviata. We wanted to scream, “La Marseillaise,” as if overtaken by the
moment at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. “Where’s your country spirit on your
national holiday, France?” The lackluster performance left us a bit depressed,
but at least it was the only aspect of our stay in Aix that was a letdown. (The
only other frustration during our month was at the trendy rooftop bistro, Le Fromagerie, at which we’d carefully
made reservations. After 25 minutes our young waitress had yet to acknowledge
our presence. She was definitely a victim of “I’m-so-beautiful-syndrome”: all I
care about is looking lovely and acting sultry and I’ll get to you only when
I’m good and ready. We dropped our menus and left.)
Every single day in Aix, there is at least
one open-air market: on the Place
Richelme, on the Place des Prêcheurs and along the
Cours Mirabeau. Everything from fresh fruit, cheese and vegetables, to honey,
sausage, tapenades and olives, linens, clothing, sandals, lavender soap and hand-crafted
jewelry is sold. It was difficult not to slow to check out the offerings, even
though we’d walked by the stalls time and time again. The displays deserved fresh
ganders just in case some new treasure was being offered and we
inevitably came away with a new bag of goodies to stock our fridge.
On one particularly
memorable Sunday, local producers of the Coteaux
d'Aix-en-Provence AOC wines
offered tastings all afternoon along the Cours Mirabeau. The
vintners showcased and sold their wines with this irresistible proposition: buy
your wine glass for three euros (or bring your own) and go from winery to
winery tasting nectars from 25 vineyards for free. A heavenly afternoon. And a
perfect excuse for midday naps.
It was love at first sight
with Aix the moment we arrived and we grew to love her even more as we got to
know all her pleasures. There’s a particular brand of the Provençal spirit in the
town as affirmed by this sign we saw hanging in a local bus: “Ne soyez pas pressé, ici on se hâtelentement.” "Don't be in a rush, we speed up slowly around here."
Pictures of our adventures: http://gapyeargirlgoestoeurope.shutterfly.com
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