Road less traveled, Wednesday

To Uzes, Orange, and Avignon

On the road less traveled to Uzes, a small well kept village recommended by my French partners/friends/drinking buddies, a sweeping story about green emerged, 

varying hues, shapes, heights, textures with vineyards (of course!), thick leaved rounded polygonal bushes, open fields, lone trees, intermittent copses, deep reaching forests. 

In the margins on either side of that story, stood small villages, stone fences, houses, old and new, warehouses, medieval and modern. 

Bright red fields of poppies punctuated the story, sometimes thick with red points, 

 sometimes sparse.

I began the trip with my head down in the cockpit looking at my smartphone for navigation. Mistake/no need. Beauty lifted my eyes out: set down the device, and paid attention to signs. Wonder of wonders, arrived Uzes. Here's the town square:

Statue in the square admires a hen atop the structure. Eggs are a critical part of French cuisine. Is this why she's up there?

View from the cafe, villagers walking by engaged in their day to day. Chatting. Didn't understand a word. Felt like I was afloat in a world I don't understand, bobbing up and down, hanging on to a couple pieces of wood that keep me bobbing up and down with the surface, head above water. Even surrounded by English speakers, am still not understanding much. However, am refreshed by the ducking that comes from time to time. Have come to be okay with that.

Lunch at Pont du Gard, an aqueduct built by the Romans in 1st century to supply the Roman city of Nimes. Was down pretty much right beside the river. The view downriver:

View upriver

Dining companion was Cerberus, the dog, guardian of the river, used to be an olive tree. Very well behaved, quiet and watchful.

Then, in a nod to my fricky dicky Dutchness, I had to go see Orange, the town that belonged to William of Orange, considered the Father of the Netherlands. It's this title that led the Dutch to go crazy with the color orange. Also known as William the Silent.

This guy looks like he's straight out of a painting by Goya. The eyes. 

A light orange facade with light blue window doors in Orange.

 Let me finish with a view from a beer at the Village Centre in Orange. After Orange, ended up in Avignon, where a Catholic saga of parallel Popes played out. Tough mix: religion and politics. Peace to you.

Not Knowing. From Cote d'Azur

After a four year hiatus, back at it. Far flung Bender writes from field.

Am traveling southeastern France next eight days, business meetings and decompress. Today's two words: expiation and humility. Humility in the sense that not knowing which road to choose on how to arrive at my destination, the road chose, made it up as the car went along. Now, that's not the American thing; not proactive, in charge, carrying out the plan of the day, in control, driving the situation. Sitcheeation drove me. Humility meant paying attention to small things, getting a sense of place, little towns along the way. Of course, all the fancy Cote d'Azur names: Nice, Cannes, St. Tropez, etc. Places I never wanted or needed to visit necessarily; here I am, now. Efficiency does not characterize, either: took 8.5 hours to do what "should have" taken 3.5. Some could call me a "bad 'Merican." These days: what's good? What's bad? That aside, let me share some pictures along the way. (You can click on the pics and blow them up.)

Very modern Navy frigate -like yacht at breakfast in Antibes

Sunrise and the castle in Antibes and some yachts

From the road that follows the coast

The beach in a small town called L'estrelle (The Star)

Stopped at the beach and sat silently, breathing, where US forces assaulted on August 15, 1944. It was this operation, every bit as important, that accompanied Operation Overlord on the beaches of Normandy in June 1944.  

The beach where US forces landed

The landing craft US forces used

Memorial Day tomorrow, so the car tended toward the cemetery where US forces were interred, which is a pretty far piece away from the beach, up further north in the hills of Provence. The cemetery in Normandy gets media aplenty. Today went for the road less traveled: Draugignan.

Entrance to the Draugignan Cemetery for US Forces

Straight pic from the cemetery entrance

Wreaths laid to celebrate Memorial Day

Wild poppy along path to the beach. Poppies are the flower we use in the military to commemorate the fallen; fallen so we might stand in freedom and peace. How are we?

Expiate, to atone with one's past. So the car, which is a manual shift btw (fun!), went all the way to St. Tropez, passing Bentleys, Rolls Royces, Porsches, Beamers, lotsa bike riders, Must have needed to go to St. Tropez for two reasons: one, because of the 1970s advertisement for Bain du soleil, the suntan cream. Obnoxious song: "Bain du soleil for the San Tropez tan..." As if using a certain suntan lotion made for a particular skin color that was "better." What's "better" skin color? Second: there was a New Yorker cartoon in the 1990's: had an obviously Afghan woman wearing a burka on a beach in what must have been southern France. Cartoon read, "Talibain du soleil." Made me laugh. Gotta say after today that not knowing sure makes life more fun, more compelling.

All for now. In business meetings next couple days. Unlikely that anything will blow my skirt up enough to write home about. We will see. Thanks for reading. Love, Tim aka "Bender"