Aix-en-Provence, France
Day two in Aix-en-Provence (Pronounced 'Ex on Pro vahhhnce', we discover). Breakfast in the hotel dining room, then out and about after negotiating another night at the inn. They had our room already rented out from under us, and things were tense for a bit, but they found us another room at the same price which was nice. And, its a non-smoking room for tonight. Last night's wasn't, unusual for us, but we took it because booking everywhere in town is tight. We are twenty feet from the 'center-ville' fountain, in the heart of downtown, with safe underground parking, so we are pretty happy with this place and glad to get another night here.
Today we head straight for Paul Cezanne's cottage. We know from the map roughly where it is, but only a road name and a direction as it is actually off the road network that we have. And by the way, it is straight up the hill. And this hill is like a part of the Alps, or maybe Nepal, this thing is steep and straight-up. We start hiking. And hiking. Soon, I'm counting my steps, just plodding along, trying not to think about what hurts. After a while we see a sign, to the effect that we have 400 meters to go. That's nice, almost half a kilometer of vertical countryside left to go. No wonder Paul's dead if he had to hike this thing whenever he went to work.
We keep going, it is now twenty minutes to twelve and they close this place between twelve and two. Forget the English tour, we just want to get there before they close, we'll take our chances with what we understand or don't. But we are not walking down then coming back again in two hours.
Finally we arrive and it has been worth the effort. It is a charming three storey 'cottage' in a grove of trees with a commanding view of the Provence countryside and Aix sleeping in the sunshine at the bottom of the slope below. There is an entry on the ground floor, with kitchen and sitting rooms, then a spiral staircase and a huge studio that is fully two stories high. The whole uphill wall is glass panels, and two large casement windows on the downhill side wall. The effect is that the cavernous room is flooded with light and must have been a joy for a painter to work in. His easels were scattered about, with his still-life subjects such as rum bottles and bowls and vases still on the little table which, with the various objects and fresh fruit and vegetables, was the subject of so much of his art. Though he was a contemporary of, and good friends with, the likes of Renoir and Monet he was not an Impressionist like they were. What conversations must have taken place between these masters in that studio!! He died in 1906 at age 67 after catching a cold when he was caught in a thunderstorm while returning from his cottage. It is now as he left it, as much as possible. His paint-covered easels, painting smock, still-life subjects, clothes, etc. We bought a print that we really liked in the shop, sat outside for a while in the sun, took some pictures, then walked down the hill to town. Great exercise and a great tour.
Hiked around some more, had a late lunch in a local Brasserie and watched the locals prance by, a lot of fun. Started to rain, we got to a store to do some shopping, then back to the hotel. Napped for about half an hour, the rain stopped, and we were out and about again, stopping for wine and beer refreshments along the way.
At last, in the room typing this and Jan picking pictures to share from the hundreds that we took yesterday and today.
Tomorrow, east toward Nice and/or Cannes. On the backroads if possible.
