Tag Archive: France


Van Gogh in Arles


A dream come true for Nieta y Nieto. For their abuela too. Prepped ourselves good with an afternoon visit of Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, read up on countless books and articles on this genius, and checked out his many artworks both popular and not so. There were many of the latter too. After all, Van Gogh was such a prolific painter (over 2,000! — nearly half of which painted in Provence in his short life’s last 2 years) that countless works didn’t earn as much distinction as those made into posters, postcards and other merch. Being big fans of Vincent, we made sure we didn’t miss the Van Gogh Tour as a day trip from our Provençal base in Avignon. The driver guide we had for this adventure was named after the artist. His namesake, another Vincent. He wasn’t the best driver and the 3 of us had vertigo spells as Vincent weaved through the traffic and hardly stepped on the brakes. We leaned left, right, forward just like Van Gogh’s sunflowers caught in a mistral. But he was a good guide, and obviously loves the place of his birth, Provence. In Arles, he brought us first to the garden park where Van Gogh painted many landscapes. The “lighting” and bright colors he was searching for, he found in the south of France. The trees have grown since over a century ago, and the layout must have changed. But the sheer thought that we are treading on the same soil and may have stood on the same spot as the great artist is mind-blowing. The apos were thrilled!

Espace Van Gogh

A marker stands by the park’s frontage. A loving dedication to a most venerated visitor-resident who moved from Paris to this Provençal town. He may have been “chasing the softer light” in Provence but I suspect what he found as well was something to “quiet” his soul and pacify his troubled mind. Away from the city chaos, Vincent painted away madly in Arles, as he did in St. Remy de Provence while in asylum and finally in his last residence in Auvers-sur-Oise. The exhibit we viewed — “Final Moments in Auvers” — at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam prepared viewers to the artist’s mind’s turmoil as he moved from Arles to St. Remy to Auvers. In today’s world, science may have tagged him as bipolar or suffering from ADHD. Who knows? What’s known for sure is that he painted a lot in a very short period of his artistic life. Darn, he painted madly in his short life. Dead at 37, he left behind many sketches, etchings, paintings of landscapes, nature, still lifes, peasants, and quite a pile of self-portraits. In all this, he proclaimed: “Art is to console those who are broken by life.Poignant message. Pierces the soul.

Street Scene in Arles?
A Roman Arena in Arles

Who can say what he found in Arles while he lived there? Stayed 15 months, created over 300 masterpieces. Just like Picasso, Arles ignited his passion and provided him innumerable objects of inspiration. He loved painting nature, and painted it in bold, dramatic hues. He may have exaggerated the “force” of the howling wind from the Mediterranean, brightened up several notches the starlights and the moon and the sun, deepened the blue hues of the sky. My apologies — I’m rambling. No art expert here. Just a regular fan’s musings. Indulge me. 😊

Espace Van Gogh

For sure, he found time to indulge himself. The Cafe de Van Gogh is marked as a tourist trap but how can you dismiss nor ignore this place? He painted Cafe Terrace at Night with this inspiration. The starry night background started a series and it is reported that Van Gogh has developed a stargazing habit which may have been prompted by some religious attachment. He proceeded to paint more star-filled skies after this, the most epic of which is “Starry Night”. At the same time, his stay in Arles was marked by an ear-slicing incident that brought him to a hospital just before Christmas. He had a serious altercation with Gauguin who lived with him in Arles briefly in a two-storey yellow house immortalised in a painting. Sadly, this incident marked the start of the artist’s deteriorating mental health. It won’t be long after this hospital stint that Vincent volunteered to be admitted in an asylum in St. Remy de Provence. Amidst all this turmoil, he created many works of art. The hospital courtyard is now called “Espace Van Gogh” and is included in every typical Van Gogh Tour around Arles.

“Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.” — Van Gogh


We are at least 2 weeks early. Those lavender fields when abloom make postcard-perfect sceneries. Yeah, I’ve seen the postcards, the posters, the photos. I’ve even watched the video clips! But we’re too early. Abbaye Notre Dame de Senanque drew out cash from our pockets as we enjoyed their shops but no luck with those lavender fields. Just the same, this 12th century abbey near Gordes, is still a functioning abbey run by Cistercian monks who hold spiritual retreats and pray 7 times a day. We prayed that next visit we make, the field of lavender would bloom so profusely for us.

What we dream of vs reality

But Gordes was truly a surprise. Apos each love Ménerbes and Roussillon but their grandma favours Gordes more. We even chanced upon a wedding in the local church at the time we visited. As Italians proclaim “La dolce vita”, the Frenchies say “La vie est belle”. Life is beautiful indeed. And the locals here in Gordes exude that relaxed way a la Provençal!

Named one of the most beautiful villages in the Luberon area — alongside Ménerbes and that red city Roussillon — it is quite an experience weaving through its narrow, cobblestoned streets while spotting a Renaissance castle, some fountains, a flight of stairs to get from one level to another, emerging onto tiny plazas and a spotting of impressive maison or mansions and chateaus here and there.

Oh, Provence! Have I actually romanticised you or are you really such a beautiful province of France? Between the Rhone and the Mediterranean, I “hear” and sense your cultural identity speaking much louder in the countryside than in the big cities. Luberon Valley is truly a gem and we can just imagine how even lovelier you must be in July when those fields of lavender are abloom in all its splendour. For now, we’d settle for poppies, the fragrant jasmine flowers, some other spring blooms and the occasional sunflowers. The young lavenders, we smell you as you start to sprout, and that’s enough for now.


Our day excursion to Luberon covered 4 hilltop villages. Just when I dropped my trainers, and donned my wedge espadrilles, our day tour included many uphill climbs on uneven paths. Not the best decision. In Ménerbes, we walked around winding roads in this rocky outcrop named after the Roman goddess Minerva. Home to only 1,000 inhabitants, this village retained its exceptional old world charm with its architecture and character.

La Vie Est Belle. Life is Beautiful.
Ménerbes is a walled village atop a hill in Luberon.

La vie est belle. Life is beautiful. Many of the windows of these stone houses look out to a panorama of green meadows and pastures. Driving along the winding roads can be a chore, more so the parking, because of the narrow and steep inclines. We spotted the huge stone building acquired by Picasso and given as a gift to one of his (many) mistresses Dora Maar, who is an artist herself, but more popular as Picasso’s muse in many of his weeping lady paintings. She died at a very old age and was reportedly so invested in the Provençal lifestyle when still alive. After her death, the property transferred ownership and is now used as a retreat house for artists, poets and novelists.

These houses can do with some scrubbing but I’m not sure if the charm rests on its worn-out look.
In Menerbes, we saw the huge building Picasso gifted his mistress, Dora Maar.

Roussillon is just as sparsely populated but as the guide promised, it is so different from Ménerbes. It sits atop one of the largest ochre deposits in the world and these deposits give the village its natural reddish brown appeal much like how Colorado in USA is. Unfortunately, my nieto suffered a vertigo spell here so after viewing the cliff side views, we sat it out by the pharmacie waiting for the meds to run its course. Besides, the heat was really getting to us. Tropical babes that we are, it was just so hard to walk uphill with the sun shining fiercely and sweating profusely as the walks generated heat against this onset of summer temps.

The ochre cliffs of Roussillon
Roussillon Pharmacie

Tourism is alive in the Luberon area. There were many groups who came in vans good for 8 pax. No big buses , perhaps because of the narrow roads in the area. It’s always a good idea to visit Provence. Though Provence has been a part of France for well over 400 years, it has retained its cultural identity much like the Catalans and the Basques in Spain have. Same, Same but different. And I wouldn’t even venture to clearly define the dividing line here. La vie est belle . 😊 Smile!


From our Avignon base, we hopped on a train for Tarascon- sur-Rhone. We passed this small town on our train from Nimes to Avignon, and thought it’s worth a visit judging by the castle and old stone buildings we spotted along the way. It took less than a half hour on the train and as soon as we stepped out of the lonely station, we felt like we stepped into a ghost town. Hardly anyone was outside the apartments or homes. Heard none nor saw any children. Many shops were closed and the cafes that were open were few. Where is everyone?

A medieval castle and a church dedicated to St. Marthe
Inside the Church of St. Martha

At the time we visited, the temps rose to 29C with hardly any breeze. We were sweating as we headed for the castle and the church. Interesting trivia here is the legend where St. Marthe was able to tame a monster that ruled the town. The monster was called “La Tarasque” so we all know where Tarascon got its name. In the local museum we visited, there was a representation of the amphibian dragon monster that really looked more cartoon-ish but then again, it’s a legend and it stuck with Tarascon! Trivia aside, the town does have its own charm. The narrow, cobble-stoned and winding alleys and the colorful windows and pastel- coloured stone buildings compose a fairy tale village. Like Beauty & the Beast. Somehow, I was expecting either Belle or Gaston to peek out of those blue windows.

Picturesque row of stone buildings
No one is home? Population: 15,000

Tarascon takes pride in its own theatre and as the site of the Souleiado Museum. Souleiado is synonymous with high-priced, unique, Provençal fabric. Established in 1806 in a former Capuchin convent, the brand has since put on sale scarves, skirts, blouses, table linen, curtains, dresses using this Provençal fabric made in strong, vibrant colors. If you’re interested in fashion, this special museum will interest you.

Tarascon Opera House seems to have lined up a lot of shows. Speaks volumes of its small community of 15,000!
Inside Souleiado Museum

On our way out of town towards the train station, we chanced upon a food stall selling oysters and mussels. I was so delighted with this random find that I ate a dozen off the street. The vendor happily shucked the oysters open for me, gave me a lemon and watched me devour the oysters. All told, this wasn’t a wasted afternoon. A castle, a church, a couple of museums, rows upon rows of stone houses, an oysters stall. Oh, I shouldn’t also forget we had a wonderful lunch here.

My reward!
Lunch at Le Bistrot des Anges Tarascon

Bohemian Paris


Paris. Left Bank. Saint Germain des Prés. Once the artistic and literary center of Paris. Tempting to think Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sartre along with Picasso, Monét and Renoir. I have always stayed in a hotel on the right bank in previous visits. This time around, I booked this apartment near the Jardin du Luxembourg just a stone’s throw from the Boulevard Saint Germain des Prés. I can’t wait to show Anna Patricia this very bohemian side of Paris. Maybe do some people-watching while having cafe au lait or chocolate chaud and an almond croissant in Les Deux Magots. If only the sun will come out 🌞 In winter, le soleil is almost absent. Any chance there are sunny spells or even just a hint of those glorious sunshine rays, expect the Parisians to be out in droves!

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But Paris in 4 days is just all too brief. Make that even 3 days since we arrived after sundown on Day 1. I can only reminisce time spent in that famous cafe that has since acquired a reputation as a tourist destination. We instead had our pastries and cafe au lait elsewhere and spent more time in Montmartre area which is another bohemian paradise. But still……

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Thinking back, many moons ago, when crepe, quiche and macaron were unfamiliar to my tastebuds, I have realized how much I have truly missed. The inviting aroma wafting from a french bakery only proves Peter Mayle’s

love for almost everything French. Yeah, i know, we’ve lost him only recently. Made me go through my stack of books, eager to re-read A Year In Provence only to remember someone borrowed my Peter Mayle books and never returned them! (Well, you know who you are 🙄)

It’s a dirtier Paris I came to now. The metro stations looked sad and neglected. Some back streets teeming with trash and where we felt unsafe. With few hours of daylight, we strolled past 5pm trying to beat sunset while taking in as much sights on early winter nights. Heard Saturday 10pm anticipated mass in Sacre Coeur but ditched plans to roam around Place Du Tertre as crowds have thinned and ambulant artists gone for the winter night. This is Paris on winter nights. The crowds thin as night sets in and temps dip. Less time to stroll around in daylight. So I’d suggest you do the Museums at night instead. Centre Georges Pompidou is open till 9pm daily and Louvre till 10pm, 2 days of the week: Wednesdays and Fridays. Musee d’Orsay is open till 9:45pm on Thursdays. So there. Hit the other sights during the day, then museums before a late dinner before calling it a night. And yeah, don’t rush Paris like we did. Stay longer than 4 days 😊

A Day At The Museum(s)


The Louvre. Our young artist can’t miss this. Both the Louvre and the Pompidou Center. It’s been on her list, but I made sure she likewise didn’t miss Sainte-Chapelle, which is a good walk from our Paris crib. I guessed right. She swooned over this royal chapel’s stained glass windows. Her keen interest showed when she grabbed some literature and started reading on the Biblical stories expressed in the lovely stained glass collection. In her words, “if I have any expectation of how heaven looks, it’s this”.

From Sainte-Chapelle and Notre Dame, we went to Louvre where we spent the next 4 hours. Yes, 4 hours! After 2.5 hours, I found a stone bench by the staircase where apo left me to see her Mona Lisa a 2nd time. Then, a 3rd time. Moving from one hall to the next, negotiating the staircases and standing most of the time took its toll on poor moí. But not this young lady who had so much energy she even retraced her steps to view her “favorites” a second time before it was time for us to leave.

Too tired to step out for lunch, we settled for our quiche, ham and salad lunch in the Carrousel du Louvre. It was definitely NOT our best meal but it’s 4pm and we’re hungry. We also paid too much for a mediocre meal. Without going out of the Louvre complex, we then took the metro towards Center Pompidou. Oh, we did search for Jef Aérosol’s Chut — that famous, iconic street art mural near the Center. A few minutes of appreciation and we were in line to enter Center Pompidou. The young lady with me was dripping with excitement.

Going up to the 5th floor to view the Center’s Modern Art collections, we stepped out to a balcony pathway where Tour Eiffel stood in full view, illuminated. Good view but if you have altitude issues, it’s not a brilliant (pun intended) idea. But Matisse was waiting for my young artist. And Picasso. And Joan Miro. Dali. Basquiat. Warhol. Clearly, she prefers modern art more than the classics. Excited to see their works after reading up on them, she swooned and said “this is the best place ever”. How can I argue with that? Clearly, she finds modern & contemporary art more exciting. She does count many favorites though among the classics.

Once more, I settled on a (more comfortable) chair here while she happily bounced between and among the collections. She likes Matisse but found a new favorite. Jean Michel Basquiat. Yup, that’s Andy Warhol’s good friend and Madonna’s ex who died of heroin overdose in 1988 at the young age of 27 when both were at the cusp of growing fame. The relationship ended badly, where Basquiat demanded the return of all the paintings he gave Madonna and painted them all black. A pity because one of his art pieces fetched £85.4 million 29 years since his death — the highest-ever paid in an auction for an American work. Below is his work, and the Basquiat portrait was done by my young artist. So with the last 2 artworks shown here.

Four hours in Louvre. Another four in Center Pompidou. Now, I can imagine how she’d react when I bring her to Madrid’s Museo de Reina Sofia, or to Barcelona to view Gaudi’s works. You know what? I’m getting excited myself!

(More works done by “apo” below)

Taking Paris Frame By Frame


I couldn’t wait to show our young artist around Paris. The City of Lights (and Love) lives up to its name and more so this December. Air’s crisp and cold. Sky’s cloudy and threatening to pour. My young adult is looking for Santa’s Villages and Art Booths while her grandma is on the lookout for a vin chaud (hot wine). Temps dip, it grows cold, wet and even icy, it can be dark and gloomy but our spirits soar with Christmas glee.

With only 4 days and 3 nights here, with early sundowns, we need to plan well. But this is Paris! The bohemian in us would rather walk aimlessly, linger where it feels warm and inspiring, and just go where the heart takes us. But I can’t let my first-time Paris visitor miss the iconic landmarks. And so, the “mandatory tour” begins: Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Louvre, Moulin Rouge, Champ Elysees, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame, Tuileries, Montmartre, Madeleine, Place de Concorde, Sainte-Chapelle.

The sun set early the day we arrived. As soon as we dropped our bags in the Saint Germain des Pres apartment we’ve booked, we set off for the Montmartre area. Moulin Rouge in illuminated version can’t be missed as soon as you step out of the Blanche Metro Station. From here, we could have walked to Place du Tertre but took the Metro back to Anvers to find a dinner place before the anticipated 10pm mass in Sacre Coeur. Le Consulat was our first choice but they only offered drinks as their kitchen closed early. Our 2nd choice turned out to be perfect for us hungry souls. Le Bonne Franquette is on the same cobble-stoned street, likewise old as the other centuries-old buildings in this old part of Paris. We imagined Van Gogh, Cezanne, Renoir et al enjoying their meals here. History aside, we actually enjoyed our dinner of french onion soup and pave de boeuf in Le Bonne Franquette. Oh sure, the vintage charm helped too.

Must be the freezing weather (0-3 Celsius) but Place du Tertre was stripped of the easels and actual/live paintings that fascinated me years back when I visited. I was eager to show her this art scene in the Butte Montmartre. Though a tad disappointed, excitement grew as she spotted a gallery of Dalí paintings. I hope the tiny, winding streets of Montmartre will inspire her to paint those quaint, centuries-old cafes and structures, images of which one finds in many postcards in France. So charming!

Versailles Palace was in our itinerary on our 2nd day in Paris. The chateau, the fountains, the gardens, the “fake” hamlet, the art pieces are way too much for my first-time visitor. The young artist was totally charmed. If it weren’t for her eagerness to see Tour Eiffel and Arc de Triomphe in daylight, we could have stayed in Versailles longer. And so we trooped back to the city for a couple more iconic landmarks plus a stroll through Champ Elysees towards Place Concorde. Yes, a long walk but we had a lovely break for a mussel dinner at Leon de Bruxelles. Still as crowded ss I remember it but we were early and easily found a table.

Tomorrow, we should be joining the lines for Saint Chapelle, Notre Dame and the Louvre. There may be time for Pompidou Center as my young artist has expressed her preference for modern art. Wish we can likewise throw in Musee d’ Orsay and Musee du Rodin, but I’m not hopeful. Lastly, I chose this apartment because of its proximity to Jardin du Luxembourg and the bohemian neighborhood of Saint German des Pres, but we have not even visited the gardens yet! Oh Paris. There’s so much to see and we have so limited time. But perhaps it’s best that way so our young artist’s heart continues to long for this city of lights and “finish the job”. I suspect though she’d be back, no way ever will the job get finished. Such is the allure of Paris. ❤️

Europe: Then And Now


Back in 1986,  I traveled to Europe for the first time. Alone.  At the time, I was still smoking and it was sheer torture to be in flight or around airports and train stations all of 21 hours.  Every chance I got, I filled my lungs with nicotine like it was the last stick I’d smoke.  I read the instructions over and over, matching them with the signages I passed, hoping I’d find my way to Bradford, England without a hitch.

 

 

The London stopover ended with my safe landing in Heathrow airport.  From there,  I took the train for Bradford.  Not an hour or two to check out the London sights  That had to wait for much later. I was expected for dinner somewhere within the halls of Bradford University.  From the tropics,  I had my first taste of snow when I got out of the train station in Bradford.  I wanted to run and throw my first snowball.  That had to wait too.  At the time, I was simply too eager to get inside Charles Morris Hall and sit by the fire to warm my fingers which were threatening to freeze.   As I “thawed”,  I met my new friends from Saudi Arabia, Italy, Finland, Brazil, Ethiopia, Burma, Solomon Islands, Iran, Nigeria, Sudan,  Poland, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Cyprus.  I have lost touch with all of them.  Hopefully, with this blog I can find some with greying hair but with the same smiles I still fondly remember.  These friends introduced me to varied flavors of the Orient, African, Middle East and Western cuisine:  from the Indian tandoori to the Italian pasta (back then, I only knew the spaghetti with meatballs), to Sudanese cabbage with rice stuffing yummy dish, to Brazilian beans and more beans!  Oh my,  too much beans.  Where are you guys?  Zeze, Raoul,  Rebecca, Lita,  Salik, etc.

 

 

I nearly cried when I saw Buckingham Palace.  I saw Big Ben at sunrise and sunset with coffee in a paper cup ,  seated on a bench somewhere. Always, I would be found reviewing a map.  I would imagine  myself taking the “Tube” as Londoners call their subway,  and visiting the popular London sights.  I also imagined which subways to take to go to the West End to watch Les Miserables and how to find my way back to our hotel.  When I crossed the English channel to go to Paris for the first time,  I was dripping with excitement.  Eiffel Tower was not really much to see the first time i saw it.  I was more awed by the Champ Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe.  By the time I reached Italy,  I could hardly sleep ……… spending my nights planning on how the next day would be spent.  There was just so much to see and so much food to try. I was young then,  and my taste buds were still waiting to discover new cuisine. I can relate to Peter Mayle’s first adventure with  French food.  Even freshly baked bread was new to me then.  I discovered wine and cheese for the first time too.  I even learned which wine glass is for what……..a far cry from those days when my wine glass was good for any wine, red or white , sparkling or not.  More than that,  I discovered what life is all about.  I turned many pages since then.  And my life, as a book,  now counts many chapters and sequels.

 

 

I visited the same sights over and over again. I worked, and worked hard. I saved, and saved good.  I traveled,  and savored every minute.   Through the years I have taken pictures of some favorite sights and found how they now compare.  I will throw in more recent pictures here from time to time , if only to lay down a better comparison between then and now.  The unwanted pounds. The unwelcome lines.  But who cares?

 

Check out the photos and see for yourself.

 

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