Visitors

I love having visitors.  But they create a distraction.  It is almost a week since I did any writing, and there have been complaints.  Well one complaint to be precise.  So here I am back again.

Having visitors is a lot of work for someone used to living alone most of the time.  Both here in Aix and at home in Auckland I basically do what I like without having to account for the needs of others.  Not that these others were demanding.  My friend Jacqui bends over backwards not to be a nuisance, and her friend Robyn is someone I have travelled with in the past and is never a problem.  Take a look at this trio of middle-aged women out and about on a very cold evening in Aix.

Yes, I know, still getting there with the selfies.

Anyway, the point about visitors is that you need to organise activities.  And here in France I can barely organise my way out of a paper bag.  To begin with I had to pick them up from the Marseille Provence Airport at Marignane.  Note to flyers – if you come by EasyJet or Ryan Air you will be assigned to Terminal 2, which is not nice. Readers might recall that it snowed the day before this pick-up, putting me into a bit of a spin.  But the next day was brilliantly fine, although very cold, and the drive south was through fields and banks still covered in unmelted snow.  No problems in fact, but still a bit of a mission for me.

Fortunately they were easily entertained that evening by dinner out and a quick tour of the Christmas markets.

The next day, Monday, also posed a problem.  Most people are shocked and dismayed to find provincial France largely closed on a Sunday – especially the tourists I see every week morosely towing their suitcases over the cobbles and looking lost.  However Mondays are only marginally better, even in a town  the size of Aix.  Many of the shops remain closed, unless part of a national or international chain.  After all, they are usually owner operated, and everyone needs a break.  So we set off to explore the old town, and fortunately as neither are great shoppers, it did not matter too much.  Many photographs were taken and posted on FaceBook that night.

Like most visitors they were keen for a leisurely lunch in a local restaurant, and in the afternoon we took a look at the most modern part of the city around and south of Les Allées d’Aix.   The library entrance and the view of the performing arts building are particularly worth a look.

Tuesday is a regular market day, so that easily took up the morning, and a few purchases were made.  Then first a delightful lunch in the Hôtel de Caumont salon, before taking in the wonderful new exhibition, ‘Bottero Dialogue Avec Picasso’.

This was a very cleverly curated exhibition in a very elegant building, so definitely a hit with the visitors.

On Wednesday I decided to get brave and venture out of town en ma voiture.  This was not an easy decision for me.  I do not especially enjoy driving in France.  The problem is not being on the wrong side of the road.  My brain has adjusted to that.  It is that I do not know where I am going, and the satnav, while marvellously efficient in all circumstances, is demanding on one’s concentration.  So when you have a couple of excited and talkative passengers, and you are negotiating motorways cross-exchanges or tiny back roads, driving is not the most relaxing occupation.  However, we decided Chateau-la-Coste, deserved a visit.

This is essentially a vineyard with tourism tacked on.  There is a small, original chateau, vineyards and olive groves, a wineshop and tastings, an art gallery, a hotel, two restaurants one of which is fine dining, an outdoor music auditorium, a two hour sculpture trail, multiple mini marvels of modern architecture, and probably more I have forgotten.  All set in the foothills of the Luberon, with a view over the most gorgeous countryside to a fortified hill village.  Worth a 25 minute drive really.

Even if the snow had been much heavier in this area and still covered the ground we walked on; and despite the two wrong turns (one down to Jacqui, the other to me) and the cross country drive on a single lane gravel road to get back on track.

Thursday was the final full day for my visitors, and we decided to carry on with the art theme.  In the morning we did the antique market, and I managed to score and/or was conned into buying a small oil on canvas of a Provencal landscape by a local artist.  Judge for yourself below.  It is definitely old and the frame is good.  A price in Francs is written on the back from a previous sale.  I cannot track the artist online.  But the colours are wonderful and I only paid 25 Euros, so I figure it is a good buy for me.

After the obligatory big lunch we visited both of the Musée Granet sites – first the Jean Planque Collection at the wonderful and not too large Chapelle Granet XXème, and then the principal site in the Place St Jean de Malte.  The first collection is something I have raved about in a previous blog, so I will not repeat myself.  But on my previous visit to the main site I had not fully explored the galleries, and they are in fact extensive.  Ignoring the ‘Cézanne at Home’ collection, which I can afford to be blasé about in his home town, there are a range of works that to my simple mind are more imposing than impressive.  Take a little look below.

Anyway, by the end of the visit we were so wilted that not even the gift shop could hold our attention.  We marched out the door into the late afternoon chill, down the road, and straight into the nearest bar.  All we could manage for dinner later was a baguette, cheese, pate, and some left over cold chicken – oh, and a bottle of red, bien sûr.

This morning I dropped them off at the Aix-en-Provence TGV station, which is a very annoying 20 minute and three motorway switches drive south of the city.  It is a massive and very modern structure that straddles the motorway like a giant spaceship, and the vehicular access is dire.  The massive carparks are permanently full, and cars line the motorway off- and on- ramps, which they use (apparently without consequences like being towed away) as all day overflow car parking.  The instructions for getting in and out, even with satnav, are confusing to say the least.  My poor friends ended up being dropped at the opposite side of the terminal to where they needed to be.  The bright side is that I now know where the arrivées hall is for when I pick Johan up next week.

I only took one wrong turn on the motorway home.  The satnav lady set me back on track in no time.

Also I had to get out and move a road works barrier to get into my driveway, because there were works at either end of the road.  It is not really my fault that before I could park and return to put it back in place a couple of cars got through and drove the wrong way down the one way road, which in any case had another barrier in place at the far end so they would not have been able to get out or turn around (it is too narrow for that).  The road worker I was in time to see running down the road and yelling after them did not speak English, so I did not bother to explain that I was the culprit as I slunk away.

Before I go a quick update on the Grandma story.  More episodes are on the way, but I have got back a little bit of research, and consequently there are some edits to the blog titled “Research and Procrastination”.  Turns out there really is a reason I should do research.  Anyway, if you happen to be following that story, you might want to take another look.