the river emerges

After seeing the caves formed by the underground river, we went to Fontaine de Vaucluse, a town built on the banks of the river that once flowed under the limestone massif and formed the caves. This river is deep and fast, and there are many kayak-rental places along it, and white water for risking your neck in.

Ria and I wandered around for a while, enjoying the beauty of the river and the trees lining it, then headed to a restaurant right on the river. It's pictured below, as is the bottle of wine I had, with a drawing on the label of the restaurant itself. During lunch it poured rain, absolutely dumped, and as soon as we'd finished, the rain stopped and the sun came out. We spent the whole afternoon walking, playing in the trees, and (Ria) photographing dogs.

the Caves

On a rainy day a while back, Ria and I went to Le Thor to see a cave formed by an underground river that has long since been diverted. The caves are fascinating and beautiful, and as you can walk through them upright and they're well lit with electric lights, they're not creepy at all. There are side channels that you'd need to crawl through to get into that I have exactly zero desire to go through, proof-positive that being a spelunker is not in my future.

Ria's school

Carolyn asked for more information about Ria's school. Here are some pictures. Le Petit Prince is a small preschool for very young children; Ria is the oldest. It's fairly small, but with a lot of teachers. The parking lot, like most places for parking in France, is tiny and utterly disorganized. I often park squeezed between two bushes, and it's sometimes very hard to get my car back out.

The classroom Ria is in has eight or nine students, all boys except for Ria and Pauline, who is closest in age to Ria and is Ria's best friend. Here are pictures of the little boys playing with miniature versions of the baskets everyone here uses for grocery shopping. In the background is Jonas, the German student who has been teaching Ria French in the afternoons. The picture of Ria is taken in the cubby room.

Vaison la Romaine (sans Romans)

When I picked Ria up after school on Monday, her teacher Helene told me she had "une petite fievre," a little fever, and wasn't herself that day. And indeed she fell asleep in the car on the way home, and slept on the couch, and went to bed at seven. So I kept her home on Tuesday, and she napped on and off all day. Her sleep was periodically interrupted by awful nightmares, which I am just helpless to prevent, and heartbroken by.

Wednesday is a short day, so I kept her home that day too, and we headed out to see Vaison la Romaine, a village famed for its Roman ruins right in town. We walked through its pretty narrow streets, up to the chateau (i.e. fortified castle) on the top of the hill, and enjoyed the gorgeous views and clear skies (blown clear by the Mistral, a wind that is making us all crazy).

As we headed back to the car, we realized that we never saw any Roman ruins. I was disappointed, but not so much that I could find the energy to go find them. We headed home and had dinner instead.

last day of the long weekend: Camargue

To conclude our nearly five-day weekend, Ria and I headed south to the river delta known as the Camargue, a massive area of salt flats, rice fields, fields of grasses, and iconic wild bulls, wild white horses, and bright pink flamingoes. At the end of the road is a touristy little seaside town, exactly what you'd expect for a beach town, filled with trinkets and carnivalesque things to do. We played in the sand on the beach for a long time, while the Mistral blew the mosquitoes away. For lunch we went to a paella restaurant. In the afternoon we were back at the beach, lying in the sun with all the French people there, lying in the sun in black jeans, leather pants, even winter coats -- odd, considering it was in the high 70s.

Mt. Ventoux opens

Mt. Ventoux, the famed summit in many Tour de France stages, opened on Saturday May 15th, for the summer. Ria and I drove up, for the third time (once in 2003, and once earlier this year), and this time we could get to the top. Every cyclist and hiker in the region apparently decided to head up too, and I have to say, they should have full access to this peak. Cars should be banned, perhaps being allowed up once a week. It's an incredibly difficult climb, made worse this day by brutal conditions. It was freezing cold with gusting winds, ice, and fog.

bridge day in Gordes

On the bridge between Ascension and le weekend, Friday, we headed first to Carpentras, for the market, and after getting stuck in a horrendous traffic jam and seeing no place to park even a toy bike, we abandoned that idea and headed for Gordes, another of the region's perched villages.

This village was, as the others were, built as a fortified town to protect its inhabitants from marauding hordes. The foundations of the village houses, however, are cellars equipped for making olive oil, collecting and storing water, and storing enormous quantities of food. By 1950, though, it had been abandoned for so long that it was a pile of rubble. A wealthy French family bought much of it and started an archeological excavation and restoration, and now there is a museum of the cellars which is absolutely incredible.

The village itself might be one of the most beautiful in the region, and it's also one of the largest. We spent all day there, walking around, and felt that there was much more to be seen, and we intend to go back. The houses on the edges have massive terraced gardens, built out of the foundations of earlier houses that were too far gone to restore. The use of the existing foundations gives the gardens a feeling of authenticity and aesthetic sympathy.