Showing posts with label luberon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label luberon. Show all posts

27 June 2020

A week in Provence #7

 

One of the most delightful market outings imaginable was the Sunday morning marché at Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. The market runs along the river, with no shortage of cafés and restaurants.







Above: fragrant herbes de Provence and lavender; regional olive oils and vinegars

Below: leisurely start each day with breakfasts of homemade confitures and cakes, fresh orange juice, coffee, fruit; still hot-from-the-oven artisanal croissants with chocolate filling; arriving for dinner in Lacoste to sweeping views with village of Bonnieux in the background 




26 June 2020

A week in Provence #6


For much of this road trip before heading out each morning we'd map where a village market would be on that particular day, getting us up and out early.




Above: stalls at the compact Thursday morning market in the village of Ménerbes, home to British author Peter Mayle of "A Year In Provence" fame

Below: the obligatory stop-to-refresh in nearby Lourmarin followed by a summery lunch


***

As friends and I recall when we get together and exchange stories from what we call our "Cadaqués days," a time of adventure, misadventure and intrigue, there was the time I'd been invited by "Captain" Peter Moore and Catherine, his Swiss wife, to their home for lunch. The  house was an architectural wonder on the tip of a sort of peninsula surrounded by security cameras and stunning views of the Mediterranean. Inside, the walls dripped with paintings and, incredibly, enormous Salvador Dalí wall tapestries, something I'd not realized existed. An effervescent Irishman, Peter had served in the British Royal Navy prior to becoming Dalí's personal secretary and business manager, accompanying the maestro all over the world for years, and was to become embroiled in an international art forgery scandal. But on this idyllic day it was just me, daughter Danielle (quite small back then), Peter, Catherine, and their guest and dear friend, Lyle Stuart, publisher of a controversial children's book by a certain Peter Mayle called, "Where Did I Come From?" Just before we left, Lyle, enchanted with Danielle, disappeared for a moment and soon emerged with a copy of the book, which he duly signed and dedicated then and there, a cherished gift and memento of that wonderful afternoon now buried somewhere among piles of books in our Montmartre home.
 
Meanwhile Peter Mayle, who I never did get the chance to meet, was working on "A Year In Provence," published not that long after, in 1989. the year of Dalí's death. In 2018 he was to pass away in his beloved Provence. - BPJ
 

24 June 2020

A week in Provence #4




Lavande? Le sais tu? Je suis amoureuse de toi, ta beauté, ta fragilité.
C'est la magie envoûtante de la provence. -
Monique S.

We drove through the countryside to wafts of lavender, would turn a bend, and fields and fields were spread before us. - BPJ

22 June 2020

A week in Provence #2


The week began with lunch.

Below: door in a hilltop village; pre-lunch apéro of kirs made with local crème de cassis