Long story short.
After our exotic river boat excursion down the Rhône River we made a death defying decision.
We rented a car.
And actually drove it.
In a foreign country.
Whose language we don’t even speak.
Through a series of rural villages in the wine region.
Where the streets kept getting narrower and narrower.
And the parking spaces kept getting scarcer and scarcer.
It was harrowing.
But I digress.
Here’s what we saw.
Gigandas is a prestigious wine village perched on a hill. It reeks of wealth and pretense.
We had a lovely lunch on veranda overlooking acres of vineyards.
The hosts were very gracious.
They even helped us take out a second mortgage so we could pay our bill and get out of town.
In sum: Viason la Romaine is a charming town that is all about wine. So we drank wine.
And as a result I forgot to take any photos of Viason la Romaine.
You’ll just have to trust me when I say it was gorgeous.
L’isle sur la Sorgue is an upscale Viason la Romaine.
It is criss-crossed with rushing streams and teeming with art and stuff.
For instance, the statue on the left harkens back to earlier days when there were no bridges and guys had to pole vault across the streams.
The woman on the right is cackling over the guy whose pole vault was way too short.
I’m just gonna say this here and never bring it up again.
We went to a very fancy restaurant where a woman looked at me steely eyed until I ate every bite of the foie gras that she put in front of me.
I’ll be ok. But it reminded me of something they squeezed through a goose.
I just don’t get Gordes.
It’s a storybook village perched high up on the side of a mountain.
It’s got its very own castle.
It’s got history and culture up the yang-yang.
It’s got it all.
And yet, the town fathers decided that they needed to put cute photos of cats on almost every well to really put Gordes on the map.
People, people, people!
Another perched village. Great views.
In color and in black and white.
Plus if you want to prepare for that Mt. Everest climb you’ve been meaning to do, this is the place.
It keeps going up and up.
Until your nose bleeds.
Roussillon is an honest go gooodness pink village. This due to the famous Ochre Cliffs from which the village derives its building material (or its pink paint, I forget which.)
OK, I’m just gonna get this out of my craw and I’ll never mention it again.
We went to a really classy restaurant overlooking the famed ochre cliffs.
We ordered food from a menu that was written in authentic French,
The waiter brought us our first appetizer.
It was cold cream corn.
With a handful of corn kernels mixed in.
And…I am not making this up…several pieces of popcorn added for….oh, I dunno…panache.
We were the only Americans in the restaurant, and personally I think they were messing with us.
I could imagine the kitchen staff peeking out into the dining room.
“They’re eating it! They’re actually eating it!
Gales of laughter.
What a rotten sense of humor have the Roussillonians.
But I digress.
Oh yeah, we stopped by the Chateau La Canorgue.
And not because of its superb wine.
Although, I admit that they all came with corks.
No, we stopped because this is where they filmed my favorite Russel Crowe movie, “A Good Year.”
You know, the one that ended with a rousing French version of “Itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.”
Loved that movie.
Ah Nice!
Nice is nice.
Think a 1950s version of Miami Beach at its Art Deco best.
Only with weirder art involving people with lips bigger than their heads.
Oh yeah, it’s also got a happening promenade.
Where people are forever scurrying hither and yon.
As though they were actually having fun.
When we all know that the French disdain fun.
Preferring to be grumpy.
Remember that scene in “To Catch A Thief” where Cary Grant looked at Grace Kelly with lust in his eyes and said…
“Judy! Judy! Judy!”
Actually, I think Hitchcock edited that part out. But that’s not the point,
The point is that Grace Kelly never got over it, So she ran off and married the Prince of Monaco,
Which brings me to Monaco.
When we got to the casino there were a whole bunch of people lined up outside waiting for someone rich and famous to appear.
But I said “No autographs please.”
“Seriously, folks, I need to get to my yacht.”
Is there anything else I can tell you about France?
FreeGNV 