Aix

My slow cooker casserole turned out to be a very great success- we had it with crusty bread and red wine on Friday night when Alison arrived. Saturday we were up at 5.30 for our day trip to Aix-en-Provence- because that's the only time the bus runs through the winter (from March onwards there is an 11am bus). Just writing now about the bus trip makes me feel slightly queasy- the bus goes to Aix via Lourmarin and Pertuis rather than taking the motorway, and the road to Lourmarin from Apt is one of the windiest, most treacherous roads in Provence, zig-zagging its way down a steep hillside. The bus driver obviouslys drive it twice a day, if not more, and paid no heed to the sharp corners- accelerating and breaking sharply and thus turning Alison, Becca and I a nasty shade of green. It took a sit down breakfast in Aix and some strong coffee to return the colour to our cheeks and we felt ready to brave the tipping rain.

Our day in Aix was the worst weather I have experienced in all my time in France so far. From our arrival at 8am to our departure at 6pm it poured and poured. We still had a lovely time; shopping, lunching, shopping, wandering round the cathedrals and fountains, stopping for ice cream (there is the most amazing gelato bar in Aix) and all of the cafes have covered outside terraces with heating lamps so you can sit under a blanket, under a heater and watch the rain and the world go by. Around four we met up with one of Alison's friends and had a hot chocolate on the Cours Mirabeau (the main tree lined street in Aix) before grabbing a baguette for dinner and catching the bus back to Apt. It was the journey back that was so horrendous- my stomach felt like a washing machine by the time we arrived back in Apt and Alison and I had eaten most of the baguette to try and appease our churning stomachs. 

Sunday morning we had pancakes and then Becca and I said goodbye to Alison and set off to wait outside the school for our rendezvous with her mentor teacher, Kathy, and her family who live not far away in the pretty village of Saint-Saturnin-les-Apt. They invited us for lunch and we spent a very nice (still rainy) Sunday at her house. She is an English teacher at the secondary school and speaks very very good English. She was also very helpful with correcting and improving our french- because she is experienced at teaching languages, she had plenty of advice to give. We had aioli- a garlic anchovy sauce with vegetables and cod, and then the galette de rois (homemade this time) and then coffee and nougat, before tipping out into the rain with the dog and walking round the soggy countryside. Back at hers we spent a bizarre and quite pleasant afternoon, with wine filled and tired heads, listening to her husband and two daughters playing irish jigs on the guitar and violin. By the time we got back to Apt in the evening neither Becca nor I were hungry at all, and were both happy to get into bed and relax before Monday morning loomed.