St. Paul de Vence

I've posted new photos of St. Tropez and St. Paul where I am now.

I arrived in St. Paul de Vence Tuesday about 4 PM and I was grateful to be A: stationary and B: in such a beautiful place . For some reason (j'ai besouin de mon "navigator") I wasn't able to get on the A8 out of St. Tropez and ended up in what I call Dragon, which is actually Draguignan. I could have continued through Grasse to Vence but the hairpin curves were making me seasick, so I opted for the first exit to the A8 I could find, which I believe was the same as that we took from Moustiers on Friday night. The trip wasn't that long, either way, and when I arrived I found the hotel was owned by two Americans, who were perfectly content, if not relieved, to be speaking English.

The hotel is amazing and beautiful and I'm so glad to be here; so much so that I inquired about a fourth night which will be so. It is a modern structure with vaulted, airy great rooms, simple, clean lines with white walls, blue accents and marble and glass abounding. Pix are in the photo albums.

The town is another incredibly charming Romanesque ville with a history of artists painting here. The town is the size of a postage stamp and has 64 art galleries within its walls. I spent the day at the Fondation Maeght (really, do glance at the pix) and it was all that. I'd looked forward to seeing it and it did not disappoint. While I've wandered through the ville and the Fondation the last couple of days lunching at the Cafe de la Place (conceived, built and resided in by Yves Montand until his death) and supping at the Le Vieux Moulin, I've spent the time regrouping. The course was taxing, the demi road trip across the Cote d'Azur was fun but tiring and St. Tropez was lovely but not relaxing. At this place, here, I've studied, napped, and completely reorganized my belongings with the intent of shipping one entire suitcase home. (I don't recommend packing with a fever of 101.)

St. Paul is charming, for certain but it is also the first place I've experienced with the dreaded tour buses. I've seen more Americans en masse here (as well as Germans and Italians) than any of the other spots I've happened into. I don't care what country their from, people of one place entering en masse is not a pretty sight. The tour buses are gone by dinner but the presence of school groups and large slightly xenophobic travelers can nearly suck the charm right out of a place. As St. Paul has a surplus, it's ok but I'm glad that I will be travel ling back into the innards of Provence, where I'm less likely the encounter the same.

And while it's been really nice spending time with Ann and John here at the villa and the other group of guests - three generations (five total) of the same family from Brooklyn and Paris - speaking English all day has diminished the small bit of French I've acquired.I continue to study each day, however, and it does get easier.

There's a lot I want to write about how to tell if someone is American by looking at their shoes, how gaggles of school children babble like brooks, equally stream and particle, and about the light in Provence. Much has been said about all, I believe, especially the light in Provence (it really is different) but my muse is sleeping, as must I maitenant.

Tomorrow I plan on beginning the day on my terrace, practicing yoga with my new friend Sarah and then perhaps lunch at the Colombe D'or, de rigeur for the new arrivals.

Comments

[penny]

Lib,
please let me know what shoes I should wear in France : )

[libby]

comfortable ones :)