Ville De Lumières

Last night was the grand light switch on in Apt. I have probably explained previously to this post that the lights in Apt are done by the man who also does the Christmas lights for the Eiffel Tower, Regent Street, Oxford Street etc in London, and they all are made in, and come from Apt. For weeks Becca and I have seen cherry pickers in town, stringing the lights along the narrow streets and working on a beautiful cascade of lights from the fountain in the main square, Place de la Bouquerie. I wanted to go but this weekend Becca is seeing friends in Spain so I was slightly worried about going alone because the few times we've walked through the streets after dark, certain figures loitering in doorways and groups of people hanging round under the steps to the town pool have made me swear I won't do it alone. But I decided, if I was going to spend one year of my life in Apt it would be stupid to miss it, so I got wrapped up, made a thermos of tea and went out into the dark.

It was clear immediately I needn't have worried about being alone. A stream of people were making their way from the parking lot by the school, through the streets, where the vendors were out, with vats of 'vin chaud', crêpes and hot pastries for sale. I followed the crowd to Place de la Bouquerie and stood alone in the crowd, though a few of my children rushed up, and said 'Hello Amy!' and dashed away again. The french locals looked at me suspiciously, grunting and grumbling between themselves, raising their eyebrows at the foreign blonde girl standing on her own. It was a big family occasion and, being my first experience of sightseeing alone I felt a bit lost in the crowd. The Mayor of Apt took the stage that had been temporarily erected and made a short speech, thanking all the necessary people and then a loud countdown began. On one, a firework set off and exploded in the sky and the lights flickered on.

They looked lovely but it was a little anti climax, as immediately people started milling back through the streets, moving a millimetre a minute, as everyone tried to get back to the Place opposite the school on the other side of town to get a good spot for the fireworks. I needn't have worried about walking those streets alone- we were jammed in like sardines. The fireworks were the real stars of the show. I thought a little, not very wealthy town like Apt wouldn't have a great deal of funding for a great show and as my experience of fireworks are Thorganby bonfire and Cannes Bastille Day, both a far cry from each other, I rather thought Apt would fall short. I'm not sure I will ever see many fireworks that beat the ones in Cannes but these in Apt were a pretty magnificent display. I took plenty of pictures to demonstrate....

Three Weeks To Go

So another week at school has gone by and today means there are three weeks until I get home for Christmas. Three weeks today I will be settled on the TGV on the way up to Paris and probably barely able to sit still with excitement. But I have Germany next week to be excited about first. 

This week has gone well; the children at school help to make sure I always have a smile on my face when I leave. On Monday, after saying goodbye to Suvi and Piers I trudged to school on a very wet morning in low spirits but left with a smile on my face. I hadn't remembered but the last time I had seen my Year 4 class was before the holidays and when I had Daniel staying with me we bumped into one of the girls and had stopped to say hello. She obviously expected me to be on the same page as her, leaning in to me confidentially and asking, 'Amy, c'était ton copain?' (Amy, was that your boyfriend?) I nodded and her eyes grew wide as saucers. She probably wasn't sure as the custom here between girlfriend and boyfriend is to be permanently glued at the mouth, whatever the circumstances. On my way home I saw the first signs of Christmas, this had been spray painted on a cafe window:

 On Tuesday I set off after lunch to school, in more rain and freezing weather to walk up the hill, running slightly late, and hurrying when a car pulled up and one of the teachers in the school waved to me, and indicated I should get in. 'We'll take you!' She said, 'we eat in Apt every Tuesday, we can take you to school.' She has always been very friendly and I remember her daughter from one of my first classes when I introduced myself and said I liked horses, and her face lit up. When I went past her desk she showed me her pencil case, with horses on it, complete with matching pen, pencil, ruler, rubber and sharpener. My classes went well this Tuesday, and I felt more able to talk and chat, and make a few tentative badly phrased jokes with the teachers which is obviously a sign my French is coming on albeit slowly. When I was finished the last teacher asked me if I would be interested in privately tutoring her son and a couple of other boys after school on Tuesday, some simple English lessons. This is great because not only does it help to stretch the paycheck but also gives me more time to practice my French and less time to watch One Tree Hill! I'm hoping to set up more tutoring but they were careful to warn us at University not to advertise yourself publicly but to ask by word of mouth in case of anything dodgy. 

Wednesday I had Alison here for the day and we wandered round Apt, (freezing and empty), stopped for a coffee and hot chocolate at one of my favourite places and then came back and accidentally booked at impromptu holiday for January, to Morocco. We had both said we wanted to go to Morocco, and January in Provence is meant to be very very cold, so Alison had found flights to Fes for 50€ return. Hostels cost around 12€ a night and living there is very cheap so with two seats left on the flight, we booked it then and there, to give us something to look forward to when we get back to France in January. 

Wednesday night I went to bed freezing cold, and woke to bright light, and snow outside. It was only a little but there is still a child inside me, wondering if school would be cancelled, and wanting immediately to be out in it. 

But I got dressed for work and set off in the cold, where school was on as normal, the rain was starting to wash away the white, and the children were particularly raucous. In my worst behaved class I gave up on the lesson plan and decided if they were all going to talk I may as well get them talking to me. I wrote questions on the board- 'what is your name?', 'where do you live?' and then finished with, 'how many brothers and sisters do you have?'. They were perplexed. I asked them what this meant in french. One boy put his hand up. 'Qu'est-ce que c'est votre numéro télephonique?' (What is your mobile number?) Not quite...

Before my last class I have a thirty minute break and I was sitting with four children who were doing some colouring in the staff room and can't have been much older than five or six when one of the male teachers came in. 'Bonjour Mr Deries,' the little boy said. The teacher turned, and laughed. 'I'm not Mr Deries! I'm Mr Orliac. You can tell I am Mr Orliac because I am the most handsome of all the teachers.'
We laughed. The little boy nodded. 'It's true. It's you, then Mr Rolland, then last is Mr Deries.' The teacher laughed wickedly and then said, 'And out of the women? Who is the most beautiful teacher?' The little girl looked up. 'Mathilde?' He frowned. 'Mathilde? Who is Mathilde?' The girl looked at me and pointed, 'It's her!'

Today I am blogging and going to go to a cafe to do all the bits I need to do with the wifi. Zoe, my friend from uni and living in Montpelier, is possibly coming to stay Saturday night, and tonight is the big Christmas light turn on in Apt. Apt is the place from which the man that does the Christmas lights on the Eiffel Tower, the Champs d'Elysee and Regent Street, Oxford Street and Bond Street in London comes from, so I think they will be quite spectacular here. Photos to come.... 

The Marston House

I write this totally recharged, refreshed and ready for the last four weeks of term- looking out at a very bleak, foggy afternoon and wondering how to do justice to such a lovely weekend in writing. Suvi and Piers arrived Thursday lunch time and thankfully Piers looked all in one piece despite a bash on the head last week. They had hired a one bedroom apartment in a huge old building in the centre of town, The Marston House, full of fabulous apartments owned mostly by Parisians who summer in Provence. The American couple who own the apartment met us there, and explained that although the one bedroom apartment had no hot water they could offer us the two bedroom apartment above it, and perhaps I would like to stay too. They were so kind and hospitable, showing us all of the work they had done on the three apartments they own in the buildings. The interior decor in each was so beautifully done, the epitome of shabby chic, and all scouted out from the antique markets around Apt, Avignon, Forcalquier and Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. I can't describe how gorgeous it was- so I took lots of pictures:

After a trip to the supermarket and boulangerie, we ate a delicious french meal of cheese, bread, grapes, saucisson, cornichons, salad and tomatoes washed down with a very good red wine. I slept so well, finally back with family and in the most comfortable bed, and when I opened the shutters early in the morning it was amazing to see a totally different view of Apt from the centre, with the hotchpotch of roofs and blue sky around me. I snuck out of the apartment and walked down the street to my favourite boulangerie where I bought croissants and baguettes for the day, and set the table for a lovely french weekend breakfast. Suvi and Piers eventually emerged and we had croissants and coffees before getting wrapped up (it is freezing here now) and getting in the car to go to Lourmarin.

The road to Lourmarin winds down through the valley and is quite hair raising with lots of s bends and French drivers overtaking on said s bends. Nonetheless Piers navigated it pretty well, punctuated with some choice (french) words from Suvi in the back. We wandered through the market in Lourmarin, which is so different from the one in Apt, much more upmarket and targeted at the wealthier crowd in Lourmarin and around about. I kept my eyes peeled for Peter Mayle who lives near Lourmarin. We each followed a different path, Piers from food stall to food stall, demolishing most of the samples with a cheery 'bonjour', me to the clothes and Suvi to the bedspreads. At a particular nice bedspread Piers went MIA. We eventually tracked him down at the tourist office, where he was hopping up and down with excitement, having discovered Albert Camus had lived part of his life and was buried in Lourmarin. I didn't quite say 'who?' but I did get an education in the relevance and importance of Albert Camus' work as we wandered into the village. We found 'Rue Albert Camus' and stood halfway along wondering where he might have lived. There was a grand house at the bottom of the street and at that moment the door flew open and two dogs shot out, barking ferociously. A frazzled looking woman joined them, shouting after them and muttering apologies at us- 'they are young!' Piers asked her if this was the house where Albert Camus lived in. 'Yes it is,' she said, 'and I'm his daughter.' We spoke to her for a while, she was lovely and friendly, and then departed, though from the look on Piers's face you could see his weekend had been made already and the bar had been set high. We wandered down to his grave, and then back into the village for hot chocolate and to get out of the rain.

After Lourmarin we drove back up the valley and further west to the beautiful hilltop village of Bonnieux. I had been to these places with Mum and Dad in September and I sat in the drizzling cold, thinking how different it had been in the scorching sun of early September and how apprehensive I had been about the whole experience. Bonnieux offers panoramic views of the Luberon and we stopped there for lunch at 'Restaurant Panoramique' where we had a very charming waiter, keen to try out his English, with several bad jokes- 'excuse me! excuse me, i tell a very bad joke!' We had the 'plat du jour', 'loup' fish with celeriac mash and sautéed spinach which was delicious, and then more hot chocolate (it really is cold now). Then we piled back in the car to drive on to the next village, Lacoste, where the Marquis de Sade lived and also hid himself in his chateau on the top of the hill. It is a strangely eerie derelict ruin, especially when you consider the history of what happened there.

Saturday morning dawned brighter, and the hustle and bustle of the market could be seen but not heard from the apartment. We again, had a lazy breakfast, with pastries and coffee galore, and headed out into the street to browse the market. Suvi and Piers proved a better pair of eyes than mine, searching out greater produce and bargains, so I left with more than they did. I bought a 5€ extremely sturdy umbrella (just in time after today's weather) and my weeks fruit and veg (bananas, apples, tomatoes, cabbage, spinach, lettuce and carrots) all for under 6€. We wandered past the scarves I bought my first week here and Piers muttered, 'wool scarves, 10 euros, what's the bet Suvi will buy one.' She bought two. We bought delicious mushrooms and salmon at quite a price, and then headed home to eat our spoilings for lunch.

Saturday afternoon we did the must see sights of Gordes and Roussillon. They are always gorgeous to see but with slightly less soul than the less touristy places, and Gordes is always full of tourists, even now in mid November. Still, one of the most beautiful sights is just on the other side of the valley to Gordes, the Abbaye de Senanque, a gorgeous abbey that Mum and Dad went in when we came in September but I had slightly run out of steam and didn't join them. All of the famous photographs of Provence show the abbey as a backdrop to the beautiful fields of purple lavender, but even at this time of the year when the lavender is not out, it is spectacular. We did plan to go into the abbey but I found a new friend in a ginger cat that was rather presumptuous in jumping on to my lap and curling up there, so I sat outside while Suvi and Piers went in, and gave the cat some attention. 

On Saturday night, after we ate our pricey but delicious salmon, we were all curled up by the fire reading when I went to the sink and looked out of the window. In the darkening square, a boy had set up a tight rope between the lamppost and fencepost and was practising a wobbly walk across it. He also had a set of juggling balls, and between him practising that and the tightrope it was an evening's entertainment for all of us. Between us we would go back and forth from the sofa to the window, saying 'come and see now! He's nearly half way across!'

Sunday dawned grey again, and we took off to Villars, a tiny tiny village just 5km from Apt which doesn't even have its own postcode, but a very quaint square and delicious boulangerie. It was the first place I went with Mum and Dad, and it is missed off the tourist route, but so pretty and more french, so worth a visit. We went to the boulangerie and bought the brioche, fresh from the oven, and continued onwards to Saignon. Saignon again is smaller, quieter and sleepier than the other villages but has a greater french feel and the views from the top of the rock are panoramic and magnificient. After Saignon we headed back for more bread and cheese for lunch and then a wander round Apt in the afternoon, looking for the house Napoleons mother had spent summers in. It was in one of the squares I walk through nearly daily and have never glanced up at the huge house. Suvi and Piers definitely encouraged me to look at Apt with new eyes. Over the weekend, they have been putting up the Christmas lights, an ongoing process since October that will be turned on next weekend. This weekend they have just finished the magnificent cascade of lights from the top of the fountain in the main square, so I can't wait to see them on.

On Sunday evening the owners of the apartment had invited us to their apartment in Bonnieux for an aperitif. All I can say is they do aperitifs differently here! Purple grapes, green grapes, pears, apples, goats cheese, brie, bread, quail's eggs, garlic, cashew nuts, pistachio nuts, almonds, homemade tapenade and lashings of wine to wash them down, all laid out on a beautiful dining room table in front of an open fireplace. They were the friendliest couple and we chatted for ages, about their home in Maine, their travels in England, Pier's fruit, and their arrival in France.

You can see about what they do and their properties in Maine and France here: http://www.marstonhouse.com/rentals/

(Their home is the three bedroom apartment in Bonnieux).

So that wrapped up a lovely lovely weekend, and I was very sad to say goodbye to Suvi and Piers yesterday morning. It was pouring down with rain, as it seems to be when I have to say my goodbyes. But having them here has given me lots of happy memories, and the necessary fuel to last through the four more weeks until I'm home for Christmas. I go to Germany in two weeks to see Paige, Georgia and Sofia, my fourth year housemates and fabulous friends, so there is lots to look forward to.

Mardi, Mercredi

Tuesday, Wednesday:

My only day of work this week was Tuesday, and I woke up to the first day of frost here. The days are still clear and sunny (mostly) but around 14, 15 degrees which feels much colder. I finally got all my admin done and sent back to uni, did some reading of my French book (Hélène Grémillon: Le Confident) which I'm not far enough into to say whether it is very good yet. I'm trying to do as much reading as possible so it's not a shock to the system when I get back to uni next year (also not much else to do).

 I walked up to school in record time, though I always stop half way and look at the view of Apt. With this class we were doing classroom materials and instructions- a fill in sheet with a game of Bingo at the end to test vocab learnt. They love Bingo so rush through the activity to get to it. It is always impossible to know how the lessons will go and how to prepare for them. For example the first class, CM2 (equivalent of Year 6) didn't know any of the vocabulary and struggled through the sheet, taking the full 45 minutes I had with them. The second class, (Year 5) were finished within 15 minutes, though they didn't know the vocabulary and wouldn't stop pronouncing 'chair' as 'share' and saying 'garbage can' for 'bin'. So that left 30 minutes to play Bingo, which of course they loved. The last class are the smallest (Year 4) and they knew all the vocabulary perfectly, and I even got some presents from the girls...! We finished off the class by doing a gap fill on the awful Halloween song I played them last week: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hu_Tpf_yGuo which they loved but there was some very dubious dancing going on. It is also unfortunately quite catchy so only listen if you're prepared to be singing it for the rest of the day!

my presents from the class

So that was Tuesday, and today, Wednesday, I filled up the fridge with a quick supermarket shop- supposedly on a budget but I bought some smoked salmon and blinis for tea tonight so went a bit over budget. Today was freezing (9 degrees) with a very cold wind so we wrapped up and got the bus into Avignon where we were planning to get our new phones. Because the first thing we did when we arrived in France was to both buy a cheap phone and put pay as you go credit on it, we didn't realise this credit only lasts a week so you basically have to top up a minimum of 5€ a week, 20€ a month to have a working phone. Considering I pay that in England already for an iPhone and unlimited texts/calls we looked elsewhere and found a contract with Virgin for 19.99€ a month, with a borrowed smartphone and unlimited calls abroad, plus 10GB of data. Considering the problems we are having with internet this seemed like a perfect deal but this is France, and nothing is ever simple or easy. Before today we had already been twice to get the phone- the first time we went to the Phonehouse shop (according to the address given on the Internet but it didn't exist). The second time we found a Virgin store and went to enquire but he didn't have the phones and said he would order them in. 

So, today, as we got off the bus in Avignon I said to Becca, I'm so excited to be able to call everyone at home tonight and catch up, but I don't want to believe it's going to happen. I am getting wise to this so called French system. And, indeed, when we arrived they told us they had ordered the phones in but had sold one already, so they had one left. Since Becca is in Paris this weekend and not able to come back it made sense for her to have it, but I had worked myself up to finally being able to talk to everyone so I really hope they get another in soon- and don't sell it again before I get there!! 

Anyhow, next we both met Alison in a lovely French cafe, and had much needed hot drinks and a catch up, and she filled us in on her week of teaching (same as mine- nonexistent) and then Becca and I headed off to get the bus. At this point it was VERY cold. Now we are home, and Becca goes to Paris tomorrow, whereas I have very special guests coming for the weekend- Suvi and Piers are coming for a long weekend and I can't wait. 

Apple Pickers

Sunday we went apple picking in Avignon for the afternoon. I met Alison for hot chocolate after a cold and rainy morning, overlooking the Pont D'Avignon and as we caught up the sun came out. We met up with the others and crossed over the river and walked down the bank of the island, where the view back over to Avignon is very beautiful. You can very quickly come to country lanes as you walk further out of Avignon and soon we were in apple orchards where we filled our bags with windfall apples and then went for a lovely Sunday afternoon walk. As we walked the wind picked up and we headed back as the sun was going down, to Alison's friend's apartment for hot drinks and apple tart. It was a lovely day, and the chance I needed to get out of Apt for a day and have a change of scenery. 

the view back over Avignon

Alison

Today Becca and I went for a walk out of Apt, a less successful walk to find the village of Gargas which we didn't find but we did find a McDonalds so we decided to have a McFlurry and then wandered around a bit before coming back home. Tomorrow I have three hours at work before another six days off but on Wednesday Becca and I are planning to get a new phone contract which should hopefully allow unlimited free calls abroad. It is 19.99 Euros without a contract for free calls, free texts, 10GB of 3G and you get leant a smartphone with it which seems a bit too good to be true but as we didn't know how to say, 'what's the catch?' in French we have signed up for it and have to get our phones on Wednesday.

Les Grèves

Today has been a fairly typical Saturday, with a meander through the market to buy fruit, veg, tapenade and a baguette for lunch, and then to sit and have a chocolat chaud in the sunshine in Place Saint Pierre and watch the world go by, because market day means throngs of people winding their way through the tiny streets of the town and I always keep a lookout for Peter Mayle. Today has been especially hot and sunny, a nice reminder of October, although the seasons are definitely beginning to change. This afternoon I have done my lesson preparation for next week with a glass of wine in the sun.

After two weeks holiday it was good to be back at school this week, because Apt is so quiet, I am trying to keep busy so I don't notice the time fly until Christmas. But it is not to be, because the infamous french strikes have caught up with me. I wondered how long it would take before they would affect me and now they have. Next Thursday all the teachers are on strike so school is off and I effectively have a three hour week, as Monday is off too due to Memorial Day. I wouldn't complain but I'm struggling to find things to do! Luckily Piers and Suvi are coming on Thursday evening for a long weekend in Provence and I'm very excited to see them both and show them the best bits round here. 

Nothing much else to report here except yesterday Becca and I went to IKEA and I bought new bedding, so I slept VERY well last night.

Back To School

Yesterday dawned grey and overcast, very suiting to my mood as Daniel and I dragged ourselves out of bed at 7am to have one last breakfast before he had to take the bus to Avignon. It was cold and drizzling, the first day like that I've seen so far in Provence, a proper November, start of term kind of day. Talk about dramatic irony. As we sat and nursed our coffees neither of us had much to say, and we trudged to the bus stop in silence. Daniel had got on, paid and sorted his bags out, sitting in the front seat where I could see him, and I was waiting for the bus to pull away, wiping tears from my face when a french boy sidled up to me.
'You're waiting for the bus?'
'I don't speak French' (Normally a sure fire way to avoid a conversation you don't want to have)
'German?'
'No. English.'
'Ah. I don't speak English very well.'
'Mmm.'
'Do you live here?'
'Yes'
'Do you like it?'
'It's okay'
'I live in Cavaillon'
'Oh'
'Do you know it?'
'Not really'
'Do you want me to show you around'
'Perhaps not'
'Are you taking this bus?'
'No, I'm saying goodbye to my boyfriend'
'Your friend?'
'My boyfriend.'
'You are together?'
'Yes. We are together. Je suis en couple. JE SUIS EN COUPLE'
'Oh. Can I have your number?'
(At this point I started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation, and could see Daniel gesticulating madly at me to stop talking to him)
'Excuse me,' I said, 'I'm going to cross the road and wave from the other side'.
'Ciao!' He said cheerily and I laughed. The bus started to pull away and I waved madly, still marveling at this boys choice of moment, and indeed all the madness of the experiences I've had here. 

Yesterday was also the first day of term, and I headed to school, huddled against the cold and had two lessons to teach, both on numbers. I decided to do fairly easy going game playing lessons, which is quite effective when teaching numbers. With the first class we played Bingo. When they had got their head around the preposterous idea of drawing a nine squared grid, (of course these were drawn painstakingly slowly with rulers and pencils, a lot of rubbing out, and corrections) and choosing nine numbers between one and thirty (which took a lot longer than you would think, believe me) I started to call the numbers. We had a few false finishes; the first boy who called Bingo had written 30 4 times, and the second girl had only filled 5 numbers in her grid. We played twice, and they seemed to enjoy it, and what's more it got them thinking individually about the vocabulary in a fun way.

In the second class, I did my first telling off. The children don't necessarily see me as an authoritative figure so when the teacher told the class that all chewing gum should be in the bin, two of the boys sitting in the corner where I was, pretended to drop their chewing gum in the bin before putting it back in their mouths. They thought this was a hilarious feat, and high fived each other for a bit before accidentally catching my stony gaze. 'Chewing gum. Bin.' I said, and fortunately they had the nerve to look ashamed and did as I said, because I would have had no follow up plan if they hadn't. This cheered me considerably and I began to look at my role with new importance. We played some counting games, and it all went well, especially because their teacher is really friendly and seems to appreciate my presence.

My third class was cancelled because the teacher was at a museum with her little ones, so I only worked an hour and a half, and went back to climb into bed with some Pumpkin and Stilton soup which was VERY good but VERY expensive (4€) and the One Tree Hill box set which I have started because I am confident it is such a long series with so many episodes in each season it will keep me entertained for a long time! 

rather less inspiring in the rain

This morning, I went out to the bike shop to look for my previously misplaced camera, and as soon as he saw me coming he laughed and reached behind the counter. I could have kissed him but I refrained and walking back to the apartment I switched it on to scroll through the photos I had taken over the weekend. Interestingly enough, when I pressed play I was looking at pictures from Christmas 2011, so the bike shop owner must have had an interesting day in the shop scrolling through 600 odd photos. I then walked up to school where I had three classes, all doing Halloween. This was fun and largely uneventful except for my second class where the teacher asked me to sing the English National Anthem and then teach it to her class. Anyone who has had the pleasure of hearing me sing I'm sure can empathise with the students as I struggled through a hesitant rendition of 'God Save Our Gracious Queen...'. That was traumatic, but then before I left four of the girls came up to me, a little bit giggly, a little bit nervous. 'Vous êtes très jolie.' (You are very pretty). I fawned and thanked them and left with a big smile on my face. Again, it is those things that make everything worth the effort here!!

After that I had a long chat with the headmaster and one of the other teachers about Apt and the catchment area. They were telling me how poor the town of Apt is compared to the surrounding villages, and the reason there is no technology in any of the schools is as a result of this poverty and the terrible management of the money, by the Mayor of the town. I would never have been able to talk like that with them in French a month ago so that was another positive reinforcement. And so, Tuesday is over, and two days of teaching have been done. I have a day off tomorrow in which I plan to be very french, go to a cafe and read some more of my french novel*. Then I have Thursday teaching and on Friday Becca and I are planning a trip to IKEA in Avignon to add some embellishments to the apartment and more importantly- buy a duvet! A drop from 25 degrees to 20 overnight is no joke! 

*could easily end up, don't go to a french cafe, get into bed with chocolate and One Tree Hill

The Luberon By Bike

Part 2 of my holidays: On Wednesday Daniel arrived in Avignon. Despite my enthusiastic attempts to teach him the bare minimum French he would need to get by: 'je ne parle pas francais' and 'parlez-vous anglais?', I needn't have worried because he managed to make himself perfectly clear by pointing at his chest and saying loudly, 'ENGLISH'. He had to get the train from London to Paris and change from Paris Gare du Nord to Gare du Lyon which is no mean feat, navigating the Paris metro on your own without a word of French. However, he arrived all in one piece. 

Daniel in Provence

On Thursday we had a relaxing day in Apt, the sun was shining and we had several coffees, several pastries, and wandered leisurely through the town. It was Halloween and as we meandered back through the streets, which are very atmospheric, especially now they are strung with millions of Christmas lights (not turned on yet but still beautiful) lots of little ghosts, witches, zombies and devils were running through the streets, going into all the shops where the shopkeepers had sweets and chocolates for them. Friday we went to Avignon, on 'jour de la toussaint' (a public holiday) which was not my brightest idea, as all the shops were closed, but we still wandered round the 'Palais des Papes' and past the 'Pont d'Avignon' and then stopped for ice cream and coffee.

I really wanted to show Daniel more of Provence so on Saturday, after meandering through the market and discovering a lovely coffee shop called Royal Mocka which does amazing flavoured coffees and orange, spice and hazelnut hot chocolate (you can guess what I had), we went along to one of the bike shops in Apt and hired two bikes for the afternoon. It seems like a small thing but even the conversation with the bike man, conducted in French, is a benchmark of how much further my language has come on. Biking is very popular in Provence and you can see why, with stunning countryside and beautiful weather there are few ways better to enjoy it than on a bike. Also, from Apt you can see the summit of the legendary Mont Ventoux, the mountain famed for one of the most grueling climbs in the Tour de France. We found the bike route and set off, through vines, turning reddy gold as Autumn takes hold, fields of lavender, avenues of Plane and Cyprus trees. It was picture perfect. 

We did a 50k cycle followed the trail 'des Ocres' up to the gorgeous hilltop village of Rousillon, much famed for the colours of the rock, and then through the valley and back up to Gordes, another very special provençal village. It was gruelling for two novice cyclers, with steep climbs as both Rousillon and Gordes are perched high on hill tops. In both villages we stopped for ice creams, sandwiches, cold drinks and pastries, before pushing on to finish the journey before the sun started to go down. By the time we had turned for home, both our bottoms were so numb we couldn't sit on the saddle, and were both walking bow legged the next day. We free wheeled down the valleys with Daniel calling behind me the nonsensical bits of French he had picked up 'enchanté', 'jean-claude' and 'je pense' (Pleased to meet you, Jean-Claude, I think). 

look Mum- helmets!

Roussillon

Gordes

We got home, returned the bikes, and then got changed and went out for dinner. Bear in mind, Saturday night at seven we went to what I think is the most popular restaurant in Apt, and it was empty. Gingerly I opened the door and inquired if they were open. 'Bien sûr mademoiselle!'. As we sat and ordered drinks it became clear we had taken the only free table- all the others were booked but for much later. Another thing about France, they eat very late. By the time we left at half nine the restaurant was filling up, and we had devoured two delicious pizzas, chocolate melt-in-the-middle puddings, wine and hot chocolates. 

Sunday was touch and go if we would be able to walk after our intense bike ride, but we powered through and packed a picnic, following the footpath up to Saignon, on another sunny day, and sat on the peak, where the view is spectacular and it really does feel like the edge of the world. It was the same route Becca and I had taken before but it was as wondrous the second time round. We then moseyed around Saignon for the afternoon, climbed up onto the rock which sits at the end of the village and has panoramic views of the Luberon. From there we could see in the very far distance, Rousillon and Gordes, and how far we had been the day before. We sat for a bit and enjoyed the view and then we climbed back down, realising we would have to say goodbye again very soon.