For Marie's birthday July 1, we drove to Aix-en-Provence, a modern town with an old center, home to 40,000 students of various nationalities. It was also where Cezanne was born and raised and spent an appreciable amount of time painting.
The main drag of Aix's center is the Cours Mirabou, a wide, tree-lined tree with numerous fountains, shops and restaurants, and on the day we were there, market day for clothes and such. In the 1800s, it was the street the rich lived on, and then, as now, it is the street to be seen on. As usual we stopped in the local bookstore, which although all the books were in French, as still pretty interesting as they had a great selection of comics. Noelle was bummed because they had all the manga comics she likes, just in French and Italian. After lunch, at Marie's birthday request, we took a long walk up to Cezanne's former workshop on a hill above the old town. Her main interest there though, was Paula, the cat she met last year who lives at the workshop. Paula did not disappoint - she was laying there on the table just waiting for scratches and pets.
Later we went back to Avignon, Marie's favorite Provencal city, for supper, and then a very cool ride on a Ferris wheel overlooking Avignon.
Today the market came to Arles, near our hotel, and I took a walk through the amazing food sellers. I can only imagine what someone who really enjoys cooking would do with such a plethora of fresh options, from spices to fresh fruits and vegetables to meats and seafood. Most most unusual (to American tastes that is) sightings were sausages made of burro and of horse. Sophie was not impressed with the skinned rabbits hanging in the butcher's stall, but they are reasonably common on menus here.
Sophie and I then did a quick tour of the church here, and took a walk around the inside of the arena. Arles was a very Roman city 2000 years ago, with a theater, a Circus (where they raced chariots ala "Ben Hur"), and the arena hosted gladiators fighting each other, as well as animals. Later, even into the 1800s, people built houses in the arena and used it like a mini-castle, for security. They are doing a fine job of restoring it, and it is actually used for events as we observed that evening.
In Arles, as in several spots in southern France, they have events called "bull games." These are different from Spanish bullfights, where the bull is ultimately killed - these bulls, it is said, ultimately die of old age (although I believe I had one for supper the other night). The object is for the razeteur, of which there are several in the ring at the same time, to grab the cocarde, which is a ribbon laced between the bull's horns. As you might expect, this puts the advantage with the bull, who has speed, size and those big pointy horns on his side. The bull game we went to was a "course de protection", which to use a baseball analogy, is your rookie league.
We filed into the ancient Roman arena, and found very nice seats only a few rows off the ring. Actually, concentric inside of the main ring, there is a red wooden wall about 5 feet tall and 4 feet inset. The essence of the action is that the razeteurs get in the ring, and and tease the bull, trying to get it chase them. They try and choose a their path so that the bull has to change direction slightly, and they reach back and attempt to hook the cocarde. Whether they are successful or not (and we only saw a few successes), they are now faced with a mad bull right on their heels. With any luck they have timed their run correctly, because they leap over the inner red wall and up, usually hanging onto the railing of the stands as they perch 5 feet off the ground, at which point they take a quick breather, and then hop back in the ring. The general idea seems to be for them to keep the bull running until it gets tired enough for them to get a really good shot and snag the cocarde. I thought it was a pretty cool spectacle, as did the girls for the first part of it, although like watching baseball, by the end (it was about 90 minutes worth) they were a little bored.
I apologize if I hit you with a lot of pictures of the bull games, but it was just quite photo-worthy.
Tomorrow we drop the car off, and then take the TGV (Train of Great Speed) to Paris for Sophie's birthday. Our time is winding down in France, and we're looking forward to seeing home again soon.
Sophie and Marie in the spot where Van Gogh painted his "Starry Night Over the Rhone" - not THE Starry Night which is his most famous, but in the same style
Dusk on the Rhone in Arles
The Cours Mirabou, the main street of old town Aix, with the trees shading the marketing tents
Marie and Paula the cat (named after Paul Cezanne) at Cezanne's workshop
Cathedral in Aix, where we got to hear their pipe organ - obviously the old-timers knew what they were doing when designed the acoutics in these large churches, because the sound of a pipe organ in a large cathedral is unforgettable. Oddly enough, in this picture, the pipe organ on the right is a fake, put in just to visually balance out the space.
Sophie on the Ferris wheel in Avignon
Pete checks out the view of Avignon from the top of the Ferris wheel there
Happy Birthday Marie! Above Avignon, with the Rhone in the background
Avignon at twilight, with the Pope's Palace watching over the old center of town
Obelisk in Arles, which used to grace the center of the chariot racing track - now it's in the main square, flanked by lions, which are Arles symbolic animal - of course lots of towns want to be symbolized by lions - I'm still looking for the chipmunk of towns...
Sophie running up the stairs in the Roman Arena in Arles
View inside of the Roman Arena, with the old building interlaced with some modern additions
Sophie inside the Arena
Just like at a baseball game, "Get your cold drinks, hats, snacks!"
Sequence of pictures showing how the bull is tempted into running after the razeteur, who then reaches back with a set of hooks he holds in his hand and tries to snag the cocarde from between the bull's horns - and then gets himself out of the ring with a flying leap
Sometimes the bull jumps out of the ring too...
...so they just let him back in, and he goes on his way madly chasing after razeteurs
Why the razeteurs jump so high even after they are out of the ring
Shot of the bull, where you can see the cocarde between the horns
Just like the 5th inning, watering down the field at halftime
This bull was so intent on staying in the ring, even after he was done, that they sent two other bulls with bells on to get him to finally pay attention and leave the ring
This bull had something personal going on with this particular razeteur and wouldn't leave the ring, so the poor guy had to throw him his sweaty shirt...
...which the bull promptly sniffed, and then stomped on, but still didn't leave...
...until the razeteur threw his grabbing hooks in too - then the bull seemed satisfied and trotted back to his pen
Market day in Arles, with spices...
...and olives...
...and garlic, and much more.
