Recently I listened to a Debussy piece for piano that I hadn't heard in a while, called Jardins sous la pluie, or Gardens in the rain. The melody pitter-patters on the keys like a gentle rain plinking on leaves. Romantic as this is, however, rain in real life is a tad more hostile, especially when you have outdoor excursions planned. Consulting the weather forecast for this past weekend, I knew there was a possibility of having each of my three day-long excursions turn sour from the blustery wind and rain, but all the same, I couldn't pass up these opportunities to see Provence just because of a little water coming from the heavens. As the French say, il faut en profiter le maximum: otherwise said, make the most of it.
Even before this weekend the weather couldn't seem to make up its mind. Two weekends ago, a few friends and I decided to climb Mont Sainte Victoire, the very same mountain that Cézanne painted when he lived in Aix. The night before the hike, I was starting to wonder what I'd gotten myself into. Hiking in the rain and wind and cold without an umbrella (which I lost for a week and miraculously found again, but that's another story!) is not exactly my ideal vacation. But fortunately, by eleven o'clock Saturday morning the clouds parted and the soleil shone brilliantly in the clear blue sky, and our hike progressed smoothly on both Saturday and Sunday. It turned out to be a fantastic randonnée, and we hiked all the way up to the cross and the prieuré at the top. Great exercise, with a beautiful view to boot.
This past weekend, I had three day-trips scheduled for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The first was a tour around the Luberon region of Provence. We toured Loumarin, Lacoste, and Roussillon, where there is a large ochre deposit, and picnicked at the castle of the Marquis de Sade. The sun shone throughout the whole day. However, on Saturday our luck started to run out. Our art history class was at the Château Noir, in the middle of our tour of the places important to Cézanne's life and painting, when we felt the first drops and knew we were done for. We huddled together on the Château Noir property in the thick drizzle trying to analyze paintings from Cézanne's late period, while around us the rain pelted the grass and turned the path into a slick muddy mess. Hungry, shivering, and trying to prevent the wind from carrying off our umbrellas, we looked at the very house, trees, and mountain that Cézanne painted over one hundred years ago, not without a touch of exasperation at our teacher, who seemed immune to all outside elements as he tried to ignite an intellectual discussion between us.
Surprised that we were still alive at the end of the day, I was fortunate that the worst had passed. On Sunday it was a bit warmer with less wind, and even though I was pretty carsick from the bus (which was beginning to feel more and more like an oven with each passing hour) the rain was old news. With our tour guide Georges, we visited Moustiers Sainte Marie, le Lac de Sainte Croix, and les Gorges du Verdon. The trip passed in much the same manner as Saturday, except a dull steady drizzle continued all day long. Since it was Sunday and all the cafés and restaurants were closed, we ended up eating lunch outside underneath a small shelter. It was unfortunate that such a great trip had to have such miserable weather, since it would have been even more breathtaking in the sunlight. And I would have probably spent less time staring at the inside of my umbrella. All I can say is that if I had a choice, I'd prefer Debussy's Jardins sous la pluie to Provence sous la pluie, but hey, like I said, il faut en profiter le maximum.
sous la pluie: in the rain
il faut en profiter le maximum: you have to make the most of it
soleil: sun
randonnée: hike
Below: a Chapelle nestled high in the mountain, and a view of the river that carved out the Gorges du Verdon
Even before this weekend the weather couldn't seem to make up its mind. Two weekends ago, a few friends and I decided to climb Mont Sainte Victoire, the very same mountain that Cézanne painted when he lived in Aix. The night before the hike, I was starting to wonder what I'd gotten myself into. Hiking in the rain and wind and cold without an umbrella (which I lost for a week and miraculously found again, but that's another story!) is not exactly my ideal vacation. But fortunately, by eleven o'clock Saturday morning the clouds parted and the soleil shone brilliantly in the clear blue sky, and our hike progressed smoothly on both Saturday and Sunday. It turned out to be a fantastic randonnée, and we hiked all the way up to the cross and the prieuré at the top. Great exercise, with a beautiful view to boot.
This past weekend, I had three day-trips scheduled for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The first was a tour around the Luberon region of Provence. We toured Loumarin, Lacoste, and Roussillon, where there is a large ochre deposit, and picnicked at the castle of the Marquis de Sade. The sun shone throughout the whole day. However, on Saturday our luck started to run out. Our art history class was at the Château Noir, in the middle of our tour of the places important to Cézanne's life and painting, when we felt the first drops and knew we were done for. We huddled together on the Château Noir property in the thick drizzle trying to analyze paintings from Cézanne's late period, while around us the rain pelted the grass and turned the path into a slick muddy mess. Hungry, shivering, and trying to prevent the wind from carrying off our umbrellas, we looked at the very house, trees, and mountain that Cézanne painted over one hundred years ago, not without a touch of exasperation at our teacher, who seemed immune to all outside elements as he tried to ignite an intellectual discussion between us.
Surprised that we were still alive at the end of the day, I was fortunate that the worst had passed. On Sunday it was a bit warmer with less wind, and even though I was pretty carsick from the bus (which was beginning to feel more and more like an oven with each passing hour) the rain was old news. With our tour guide Georges, we visited Moustiers Sainte Marie, le Lac de Sainte Croix, and les Gorges du Verdon. The trip passed in much the same manner as Saturday, except a dull steady drizzle continued all day long. Since it was Sunday and all the cafés and restaurants were closed, we ended up eating lunch outside underneath a small shelter. It was unfortunate that such a great trip had to have such miserable weather, since it would have been even more breathtaking in the sunlight. And I would have probably spent less time staring at the inside of my umbrella. All I can say is that if I had a choice, I'd prefer Debussy's Jardins sous la pluie to Provence sous la pluie, but hey, like I said, il faut en profiter le maximum.
sous la pluie: in the rain
il faut en profiter le maximum: you have to make the most of it
soleil: sun
randonnée: hike
Below: a Chapelle nestled high in the mountain, and a view of the river that carved out the Gorges du Verdon