An Early Start to the Day

Planning a week long stay in Provence in August was always going to be something of a risk. Although you can plan most aspects of a trip, there is one important factor that we have absolutely no control whatsoever. I have learnt from my previous experiences in Europe that the weather can throw up a complete range of conditions – from scorching heat to freezing cold. Before this trip is over I expect that we will have the opportunity to experience them all.

According to the laws of long term averages, September is usually the best time for active activities (such as cycling). In France, as in much of Europe, August is regarded as the holiday month – the time when many shops and businesses close for their summer vacations. It is also often the hottest time of the year. Since we had already timed the start of our cycling for the beginning of September, we had no choice over the dates for any additional time in Provence. It would have to be late August.

As it turned out we happened to arrive right at the end of a prolonged extremely hot summer. In many parts of Europe new records had been set with temperatures soaring into the 40s. Although we had been hoping that the worst of the summer might have passed before we arrived, this was not to be the case. Provence in particular had suffered from an unbroken succession of hot and rainless days. Gardens were dying while the locals sought refuge inside their stone walled houses. Since we had just arrived from the depths of a very cold Melbourne winter, the shock has been enough to leave us wilting. Although we tried to do a little exploring of the village, the relentless sun soon sent us returning to the relative cool of our home. For that reason we decided that the only way we were going to be able to wander the town would be to do it in the very early morning, right on sunrise.

At 7 am the air was still pleasantly cool and fresh. It was delightful to be able to walk up and down the steeply sloping streets without breaking out in a lather of sweat. When we first arrived here, just two days ago, the place seemed to be a complete mystery of tangled alleyways, now we were able to navigate our way about with relative ease. It certainly helped that the we always had the towering steeple of the ancient church to guide us home.

During our walk we noticed that there was a nearby rocky hill that dominated the village. We decided that it would be worth climbing to the top before sunrise the following day so that we could watch the sun rise over the Vaucluse Plateau. In the distance the towering silhouette of Mont Ventoux dominated the landscape. This is the mountain that breaks the spirit of many a Tour de France rider and was also the place that the English cyclist Tom Simpson breathed his last. The combination of the thin air and a lethal cocktail of performance enhancing drugs was more than his body could take.

Our walk eventually took us to the familiar sight of the local supermarket, where we set about emptying their shelves of just about everything in sight. I thought that we might need to recruit a team of Sherpas to help transport it back to the house, but somehow we managed to do it unaided. We even managed to get the precious baguettes back home without flattening them too much.

Back in the cool of the house breakfast somehow blended into lunch. The baguettes were stuffed with cold meat and ham and washed down with a little cider. A truly French tradition. After lunch the temperature outside was probably hot enough to melt iron. We decided to stay indoors and partake in some serious talking instead. The challenge was for each person to share something that they had never told anybody else. This always makes for interesting conversation. Carol took the opportunity to reveal some incredibly dark secrets of David’s. It was just as well that David was back at home in Australia, performing medical experiments on their poor cat, and had idea of what was being revealed on the other side of the world.

While on the subject of the cat, apparently the resultant vet bills were of such incredible magnitude (and growing by the day) that David would have actually saved a huge pile of money by joining us in France and leaving the poor beast with a professional housesitter instead.

Gael and Gerry decided to invite the rest of the time to join them in their air conditioned penthouse for dinner. It gave them an opportunity to simultaneously show off their residence and Gerry’s culinary skills at the same time. I must admit that the pasta was delicious and it was a lovely way to end the day. We were even able to stand on their huge terrace and admire the views. Way below us the lights were just starting to come on and the slightest suggestion of a cool breeze made the spectacle even more beautiful. I guess that is why we made the decision to spend the week this way.Read more