Journal Entry 13--Monday, Oct. 27, 2014--Arles, Les Baux-de-Provence, le Moulin d'Huile d'Olives--The ever-changing light of Provence (Readers, take this one slowly, in more than one sitting, or brace for sensory overload and perhaps double vision.) While we're at it, pictures in a Blog are much clearer if they are clicked on individually, and earlier posts are accessible from the Archive to the right.
Pigeons on roof in Les Baux
I found the breakfast area at the rear of the enormous lobby behind the front desk. I negotiated the distance and the change in levels between table and buffet and, with the rest of the group, ate my fill and then took some fruit, bread, and cheese back up to the room.
Breakfast at the Arles Atrium
Soon, we were back in the lobby, waiting for Louis and Isabella to lead us on a walking tour of Arles. One of the many things I was interested in was Van Gogh sites, particularly where the Yellow House was, where Room at Arles was painted. It has been one of my favorite pictures since university days. We would finally make it there after lunch--but just to see the location where the building had stood. Much to my disappointment, it had been hit by Allied bombs in 1944 and was torn down long ago, but much to our delight later, Laron, Jana, and I would see the original in the Museé d'Orsay.
Room is at Arles no more.
However, other Van Gogh locales still remain. Roy from Tennessee and Micky from San Francisco joined me is measuring the comfort of the chairs and sofa at the east end of the lobby. The Atrium Hotel consisted of several buildings joined together, so the "facilities" were at the far western end of the lobby around the corner and to the left of the telephones. This lobby area was far and away the largest we would have on the tour.
Soon, Louis and Isabella were there and led us back across the street and up the steps toward the Boulevard des Lices. We retraced most of our route from the previous evening.
As we walked north toward the center of Arles, we came upon an open courtyard to the left. Here we stopped and turned to enter a large, beautifully-tended garden enclosure which seemed hauntingly familiar. It did not take long to see why.
Isabella stationed herself in front of a copy of Van Gogh's Le Jardin de la Maison de Santé, and we marveled at the juxtaposition of a photo of the actual picture placed right in front of the garden which inspired it. We also started to notice the difference in lighting when the sun went behind clouds.
Le Jardin de la Maison de Santé
Isabella explique.
As the sun rose higher...
Here was the famous scene that Vincent had painted when he was hospitalized in 1888 after his ear-cutting episode. We all walked through the garden and took pictures before Isabella summoned us out to lead us on to the Place de la Republique.
Isabella led us north to the square in front of the old city hall, which is now a museum. It stood at the end of this area that had a fountain, centered by an ancient Roman obelisk, right in the middle. She told us the obelisk had been unearthed from the ruins of the ancient town and moved here to anchor the fountain. The base of the object rests on a square pedestal decorated with copper sculptures.
La Place de la Republique with old city hall to the left and St. Trophime to our right
Pigeons huddling at the fountain
The interior of the of the Hotel de Ville was plain and somewhat rough. The "toilette" in a corner of the courtyard beyond was even plainer and rougher than that. Near the end of her talk, Isabella saw us staring with curiosity at the printing on the wall and realized that we were puzzled by the language.
It was neither Latin nor French but rather a related amalgam with spellings similar to those we saw in Uzès. She called the language Provençal and explained that Provence had been a separate country with its own language before it had become part of France.
Then we exited the building, and while she discussed the restoration of a church façade across the square, while I studied the obelisk and the fountain and communed with the pigeons. Even after an earlier "cleaning," the façade required restoration, so here is how it did look. We could not enter the building or the cloister it led to or see the famous Romanesque façade; this 12th-15th-century church is a World Heritage Site and on the medieval pilgrimage route to Compostela. I regret the omission, but it couldn't be helped.
St. Trophime after an earlier cleaning
This is one of the best examples of a Romanesque portal.
St. Trophime now
Next, we headed north again, took a left, then a right and walked by the Roman Theater. This we merely looked at from outside its gates all too briefly as we passed by, but I was interested in it. It was a fairly large area, much still in ruins, but it gave great testimony to the ancient town's active cultural life. What impressed me also was the simple fact that this was entirely separate from the arena beyond, which is still used for more active pursuits--among them Spanish-style bullfighting.
Passing by the Theater on the way to the Arena
Set up for a concert
Theater in Arles with Arena looming nearby
Now we approached Arles' most noteworthy structure--the Arena or Amphitheater which our street ran right up to. As we came near it, the couple who had shoved me yesterday in Usès tried to make nice, but I steered clear; I'd had enough for now. Isabelle and Louis led us around to the entrance at the north end, and here things became a little confused. Near the entrance and looking back at the town was a replica of another Van Gogh painting which the guide discussed.
The painting was Les Arènes, and it showed the CROWD at a bullfight in the 1880's; Isabella pointed out his focus on the people in the crowd rather than on the arena itself. He appeared to have had little interest in the Roman building, for he featured the people instead. That was nice, but this was my first visit to a Roman arena that was still in use, and this time antiquity trumped Impressionism in my book.
Les Arènes
(Thought to be unfinished)
Why this did not take..."The Shadow knows."
From the moment I passed near this arena last night, I had been fascinated with it! Seeing the Colosseum in Rome had been terrific, but it was no longer usable. It was in ruins, but this place was functioning after 2000 years, albeit with some restoration. Parts were still rough, and it might not be as well preserved as its counterpart in Nîmes, but this was Roman architecture on a scale that a small-town boy could really appreciate.
Many Roman ruins sit at a lower level than the cities that surround them.
The Roman and Provençal morning of Gordon Smith
(Pour le moment, j'étais Arlésien.)
One minute, sunlight, the next, clouds
Interior walls.
Entryway with steel bleachers
The arena in the morning
Where gladiators once fought with bulls, men still do.
Wooden wall and structures for escaping from bulls
Isabella explains it all to us.
Aerial view of Roman arena in Arles showing the perfect elliptical shape
Once we had explored a little and looked around the interesting areas between the outer walls and the stadium itself, we entered, sat down, and listened to Isabella describe the history of this two thousand-year-old place. I asked about the shape of the arena which was oval rather than circular.
She said the design of Roman amphitheaters had evolved from Greek originals that were often circular. The Romans, using the mathematical formula for an ellipsis, perfected the oval shape because it brought more of the audience closer to the action. They did the math for this with Roman Numerals!
Truly the Colosseum had been elliptical, too, but seeing this smaller-scale structure made the design far more understandable and immediate. Of course, the Arles Arena still had its floor intact and was still used for bullfights, plays, and musical performances. In the Camargue, there is a passion for the corridas; bulls are raised for this purpose, and they are killed. Some of the old walls had been damaged over time, but enough of the building remained to make it useful still. Steel bleachers had been added to provide additional seating.
Then we exited and made our way slowly through narrow streets to a square containing another famous Van Gogh location. We were still moving in the northerly direction we had followed since leaving the hotel; now we did a diagonal from the Arena to the Rhône.
View of Arles from the steps of the Arena
This is a country where people will eat at restaurants named for punctuation marks!
The site of Le Café le Soir was on a nice open square with restaurants, including the original, all around. It's called La Place du Forum. Many of us went for a bathroom break while others shot pictures of the yellow awning and painting replica. I must confess that I was almost as interested in the beautiful red scooter parked behind the replica as of the picture itself.
Le Café le Soir
During the day--from Van Gogh's angle
Micky photographs la Place du Forum.
Van Gogh/scooter juxtaposition
Before we exited the Place du Forum, I shot a few more pictures of interesting buildings because they fascinated me. Then we walked toward the ancient Roman bath, but as we headed there, we passed a fenced courtyard with LEMONS growing on trees, so I shot a few photos of that, too. Walking past picturesque old buildings with painted walls, we arrived at the bath.
Potted lemon trees!
The arches of the bath beyond are visible through the narrow street,
with Isabella's silhouette in the foreground.
Here we simply shot pictures from the outside because we were very close to La Caravelle, the restaurant where we would eat lunch. In fact, it was located right behind the bath. I was excited to be near the bath and admired its large arches made of Roman bricks.
The Roman Bath
After so much walking we were again quite ready to sit awhile and settle in for lunch. I rarely bothered to take pictures of restaurants, but here something caught my attention, and I could not resist photographing images of snails crawling over interesting terrain on the wall. Indeed, snails were a tasty part of this lunch.
La Caravelle--lunch at last!
We were very close to the Rhône River
Un tableau des escargots et d'autres choses
While eating lunch, I thought about our being in the Camargue Commune and so close to the mouth of the Rhône. We were also near the summer nesting place of flamingoes. Surely they had flown back to Africa by now. Also, wild , off-white horses still roamed the Camargue; that's right--France has WILD HORSES. Then there were the ranches nearby where fighting bulls were raised. This one little area had so much going on, what we had just seen on a walk through the center of Arles boggles the mind!
Central Arles offers an amazing concentration of fascinating places. Note the short distance between the arena and the Rhône River and the things we saw on our walk to lunch there.
In fact, it was amazing to realize what we had just seen winding our way from the arena to La
Caravelle! Now Isabella took us on another circuitous route towards the hotel. We looked at the river briefly, all too briefly, and headed toward the hotel by way of the former location of The Yellow House where Room at Arles had been painted.
Isabelle simply stopped, turned and showed us the corner where the house had been. Apparently, the buildings behind were still intact, but they were of little interest to me now.
La Maison Jaune
Where the Yellow House once stood
At long last, we headed back to the Hotel Atrium. We had to cross a complicated intersection where a large Y separates the Boulevard des Lices from Rue Emile Fassin. As we walked, I noticed a tiny laundromat on the north side of this and a bank with ATM after we had crossed it. It was comforting to see businesses that I needed only a few blocks from the hotel.
At the Atrium, we went up to our rooms briefly and then boarded the bus for a jaunt to Les Baux-de-Provence, or simply "Les Baux" (lay bow), as Louis called it. The location would be in a national nature park between here and Avignon.
We would be visiting the place where bauxite (aluminum ore) had been discovered in 1821. In fact, bauxite was named for Les Baux. Les Baux actually belongs to Monaco. Hearing this, I could not help remembering my fourth-grade crush on Grace Kelley and my bitter disappointment when the married "that prince."
After driving through beautiful Provence, we abruptly came on a very rocky, mountainous area, and Nicholas carefully drove us up into it. Coming still closer, I was stunned by the scenic beauty and roughness of the place.
Its height above the surrounding land made Les Baux an ideal defensive location, and there is evidence that people lived here as far back as 6,000 BC. Today, this is purely a tourist site, and the population is only twenty-two, but 4,000 people once inhabited the village, and the castle above it was impressive--until Cardinal Richelieu ordered it destroyed. The French cherish it as a scenic destination.
We approach Les Baux-de-Provence.
Then the sun came through the clouds.
After a morning of studying things up close, we adjusted our perspectives to take in distant beauty.
Ruins of castle at top of mountain--flying the flag of Monaco
Les drapeaux Monegasque (Monocan flags)
Nicolas parked our bus on a lower level, so we walked up.
Scenic outcropping above the parking lot
We parked on a narrow, steeply-sloping road, exited, and followed Louis and Isabella up the path to the entrance of the village. Isabella lectured us briefly, and after passing a steel, unisex, one-at-a-time toilet, we walked in the front gate.
Something I was becoming increasingly aware of was the French success at putting plumbing into buildings and locations that had never had it before. Running water and plumbing were things that the original builders probably never even dreamed of. Nowadays, small bathrooms are often unisex or have separate "toilettes" for men and women but sinks located in a common area for all to wash in.
Approaching the entrance to Les Baux
A modern touch
We went through the entrance and immediately noticed a huge piece of very red bauxite. We entered a church to our right, inspected that with Isabella's help, and then she and Louis gave us a meeting time outside the entrance and turned us loose on the village busy with other tourists this beautiful afternoon. Basically, there were so many winding streets it would be almost impossible to trace my route.
We remained in the tourist town on the mountain but below the castle heights.
Bauxite was named for Les Baux, and not the other way around.
SO THAT'S WHERE ALUMINUM COMES FROM!
St. Vincent's Church near the entrance
I love this picture!
Le Bureau de Poste
Something I did while others explored was to take pictures FROM Les Baux rather than just OF it.
Looking out FROM these heights was as impressive as looking AT them from a distance had been!
Among the buildings that interested many in our group was the chapel, particularly the stained glass windows donated by Prince Rainier back in the 60's. Monaco is not located closeby, but we were charmed to be in a place that belonged to it.
The Chapel of St. Blaise higher up
Thanks, Prince Rainier, and let's give credit to Princess Grace, too.
Time was tight, so Len and Helen asked me to translate this plaque for them. See if you can do it-- without Google.
Leaving the chapel and heading down a narrow path, I ran into Jack who said there were berets for sale in a shop he pointed out. Many of the group knew I was on the look-out for another one, possibly in a different color, because they are rare, and I wanted a spare. The shop did have good caps at a decent price, but then I remembered my credit cards were in the safe back in the hotel, so I decided to hang on to my cash and not to buy now.
Well, we gathered in the parking lot at the appointed time and made our way back to our comfortable brown bus. Nicolas drove us slowly down the mountain, and again, the views were spectacular and impressive now in the different light of late afternoon. Isabella told us that much mining had gone on inside the mountains, and the hollowed-out spaces were used to hide munitions from the Germans during WW II. Apparently, the French military still used the area. The aluminum ore had been depleted, and now most bauxite is imported to France from West Africa.
Waiting for the group to assemble.
Louis and Isabella were wonderfully patient, capable, expert guides.
Down the mountain and to the bus
Farm fields below Les Baux
Nicolas drove us down the mountain, away from Les Baux, closer to Avignon in the Barbentane area, and to the olive oil mill owned by Isabella and her husband. Approaching our goal through rural roads, we saw numerous "hoop houses" ( plastic green houses), so I asked Isabella what was growing in them. She said, "A little bit of everything--vegetables, flowers, whatever there's a market for." Some were not in use, but others looked active. I would remember this when we came to open-air markets in Paris filled to overflowing with fresh vegetables in November.
We pulled into a tree-fronted place with a sign that read MOULIN BOUTIQUE OLLIER, and Nicholas parked us in their long, private driveway. We exited in front of a large complex with a store in the front, but Isabelle routed us around back and through a large, open doorway to the factory-like mill at the back of the building. We passed big, plastic crates--full of black and green olives.
Here the employees moved them one crate at a time to a raised conveyor that rolled the olives to a high spot at the end where they were dumped into a press, squeezed, and emptied into a cylindrical mixer which combines paste and oil. Next, this is put through a separating process which removes waste pulp from oil, and this is done in a three-set group of long glass cylinders. Last, it is put in a metal extracter that purifies the oil further and empties into a large pot.
Down by the old mill stream (olive oil, that is).
Moulin means mill.
Joe cruises olive trees.
Freshly-picked olives
Mother's Aunt Olive would have been in hog heaven.
Squeezing the whole olives
Isabella explains the malaxing (mixing) of oil and paste.
Extracting paste from oil
Out comes the finished product.
After observing this process, we moved into the shop in the front of the building where we looked over a wide variety of merchandise and several of us examined bottles of finished oil and bought some. I bought lavender soap, sachets, etc., for gifts back home.
Then I walked the grounds in front to check out the location further. We were on a paved, curbless rural street with cars and trucks passing only occasionally to an intersection on a corner to the right. I enjoyed the quiet and examined the trees. Soon, everyone was out of the shop and back on the bus, and we started home to Arles.
Johanna buys her oil.
Back at the Hotel Atrium, some left to go eat, but others of us headed to our rooms to rest and clean up. I ate from my cache of food saved from breakfast. After about an hour, I went down to walk around. No sooner had I gone through the front entrance, than Mickey and Chris arrived carrying shopping bags from a hat store. They told me they had found some really good berets and rather than give me directions in a place that had so many twists and turns, they offered to show me where it was. I accepted.
It was after dark, but the town was well lit, so we headed back to the Boulevard des Lices, went left for a few blocks and turned north near the laundromat up a narrow street. A few blocks more, and we turned left on an even narrower street, and voilà--there was La Chapellerie (The Hat Shop). The woman running the store showed me her berets, which were of good quality but all black. We found one my size, and I said I'd take it. I had my credit card with me this time, so we tried using it, but when she ran it through her little machine, she said she couldn't clear it because the computer was down. It was a very small store and part of a small chain with a central computer. I had enough cash, so I used most of my remaining Euros to buy the hat. I was perplexed, but now I had my spare béret, along with a nice, cloth La Chapellerie shopping bag--with all the South-of-France locations printed on it.
We returned to the hotel, I thanked Chris and Micky for their thoughtfulness, and we went our separate ways to retire after ANOTHER INCREDIBLE DAY! My laundry crisis was worsening, and I now really needed to use an ATM, but I settled in for the night. After all, I needed to rest up for Avignon tomorrow.
ONE MORE THOUGHT-- It is no wonder that Van Gogh came to this area "for the light." From moment to moment, it changed, and appearances changed with it. While this may be true almost everywhere, here it seemed particularly noticeable! Sometimes lighting changes made a big difference; other times the change was subtle and mixed. France is built of limestone, which particularly responds to changes in light. Clouds would move, the sun would come through, and appearances were transformed. Over a hundred years ago, the Impressionists made a big deal of this, but it's still a big deal!
Fin
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