Rewards of travel

Vermont and Provence share the distinction of a charming village and breath-taking view in any direction where you may go. While Vermont is verdant from rainfall and snow, Provence is quite arid despite the Sea since Mistral winds blow away the rain clouds. Both places are noted for rocky outcroppings—Vermont with granite, marble, and quartz, as well as limestone like in Provence where myriad rocks have been pushed down from the Alps.

Native American settlements began in the Hunter-gatherer Archaic Period (c. 7000–1000 BC) through the Sedentary Period, too (c. 1000 BC to AD 1600). Vermont became the fourteenth state in 1791 (after a brief period of independence following the American Revolutionary War. Our villages look like Colonial times.

In Provence, although often Medieval, many hamlets harken to earlier days—Ligurian, Celtic, Greek, Phoenician (like Marseille), Roman, Visigoth, Frank, Arab, Berber, and a succession of European.

The perched stone village of Les Baux-de-Provence (escarpment) was first inhabited in 6000 BC, invaded by the Celts, and rebuilt in the Middle Ages—hand carved out of limestone and bauxite like in abandoned quarries nearby. I entered a stone doorway in a cave-like home, descended stone steps and sat on a stone couch. Everything was carved in place.

Inside one quarry of Les Baux, the original “Quarries of Light” began showing films of beloved artists’ paintings on 45’ high limestone walls. The 30 projectors of the immersive art experience left us in awe on two occasions The first time Van Gogh’s art moved to music as water shimmered underfoot and ravens flew across the sky. Another year, Klimt’s and other

Austrian symbolists’ exquisite landscapes and sensual portraits glittered with life. This year’s spectacles by day include Egyptian Pharaohs and The Orientalusts (Ingres, Delacroix and Gérôme) and by night a phonographic collage of Jimmy Nelson’s Guardians of Humanity and The Sentinels—indigenous peoples’ images, symbols, and lands set to their music from around the world.

Duane (my hubby and our hard working chauffeur) drove us to Aix-en-Provence to stroll along the Cours Mirabeau and admire useful, hand-crafted wares and drool at delectable market treats like sugar-coated almonds called “Calissons.”

The following day in Sanary-sûr-Mer, we examined the dresses, scarves, jewelry and hats in what’s said to be the best market in the region. Afterwards, we picnicked at the port and a thoughtful lady shared her watermelon. We admired colorful traditional fishing boats like the one I painted in St. Tropez.

When we time-shared in Saint Mandrier-sùr-Mer further down the same peninsula, we met Guy and Monique at the annual Saint Peter Festival. Guy invited us out on his boat, reminiscent of his father’s bâteau. Then he gathered sea urchins and dove for other creatures which he showed us how to eat that he enjoyed in his youth. Guy and Monique (from Paris and Toulon) arranged for us to go out to sea with a fishing boat captain to scatter flowers in the memory of sailors lost at sea.

These chance encounters make travel so rewarding and introduce us to new friends for life. Memories of years spending time in Provence meld together like I’m in a time capsule. Provence, like Vermont, lives in my soul.

Provence, like Vermont, lives in my soul.

We tried to return to lovely Cassis twice, the charming fishing village turned hot tourist spot, but parking was impossible. Instead, today, the Corniche to Point Rouge was a spectacular drive along the dramatic coast from Marseille. A circus with llamas and camels was there and a video grenier (“empty the attic” sale) great for bargains galore and more. So we returned to Allauch to unwind and sip coffee in our mountaintop retreat. The driving is stressful and takes much concentration. Thank heavens the iPhone and rented car screen connect us with GPS.

Otherwise, we’d often be lost.

“What shall we do en route to Nice tomorrow?”

“Let’s take our time and play it by ear.”

Marguerite Jill Dye is an artist and writer who divides her time between Killington and Bradenton, Florida. She loves to hear from her readers at jilldyestudio@aol.com. Please spread the word—her column is online with updates from France for several weeks.