Soon we start home to be with grandson Charlie on his fourth birthday. It’s just a pause in our planned year of travel in francophone countries and we’ll be back as soon as the French Embassy issues our long-stay visas. As you can imagine, there is so much we haven’t said. Every ordinary thing we do is an experience, often a challenge, and sometimes a dead-end.

For our seventh week, we returned to familiar territory—Cabernet, the spacious, comfortable house we rented when Hildegarde and Marc visited. There is more to explore in middle Provence and, not surprisingly, we are desperate for haircuts.

Following our landlord’s advice, we booked appointments with Anne, the owner of L’Atmosphere in Lambesc, and started brushing up on salon French. “Not too short”, “The part is on the left”, “Take off a little more here”, “Is a tip included?” Anne is no Joel or Tony but she did a nice job and now we aren’t so raggedy.

A highlight of the week was our visit to Château d’Arnajon where we were happy to pay 6€ to leisurely stroll the well-designed terraces bordered by balustrades carved from golden stone described as Rogne after the name of the local village. It’s not hard to visualize the grand parties that must have taken place in this genteel, time-worn place. When we met the “gardener”, who turned out to be the son-in-law of the current owners, we learned that his in-laws are living out their troisième âge within this five hundred year old mansion.

On the way to Sête to rendezvous with our buddies, Alex Fasciaux and Brigitte Rivière, we paused briefly at Daudet’s Mill near Fontville and rambled along the rocky path to the famous structure that inspired Alphonse Daudet to publish his collection of short stories, “Letters From My Windmill” in 1869. Then it was lunchtime and Renie’s enjoyment of his dish of stuffed quail on the shady patio of Le Chez de Nous convinced the proprietor that they are now best friends.

Alex Fasciaux is the younger brother of Jean-Jacques who lived with the Bressinck family while Phillip was in high school and Renie was in college. When Jean-Jacques returned home to Lille at the end of May, 1964, twenty-year-old Renie sailed on the SS United States and spent the summer with the Fasciaux family. Jean-Jacques died a few years ago, but Renie’s friendship with Alex grows stronger with each visit.

Brigitte and Alex divide their time between Dijon and Sête—Sête, to “benefit from the sunshine”, as Mr. Fasciaux liked to say. We walked together along the seashore for miles and stopped at their beautiful condominium to feast on Alex’s presentation of two sizes of local oysters and Brigitte’s excellent local loup poached in coconut milk.

To reciprocate for the invitation to lunch in their chic ocean view apartment, we invited Alex and Brigitte to dine with us on the private terrace of our funky 3rd floor walk-up chambre d’hôte. It has a fabulous view of the Thou lagoon which together with the Mediterranean provides Sete’s unique setting. We would order pizza or Alex and Renie would gather local specialties in the neighborhood while Brigitte and I chilled the wine and laid out pre-dinner snacks.

Nobody answered our calls to pizza places. All the carry-out places and restaurants were closed. Then the light went on — Pentecost — another national holiday. Luckily, after scouring the region, the guys found a small kiosk selling Hormel pepperoni and mass produced cheese. We supplemented with a hamburger bun left from a package we’d bought when we couldn’t find anything else. When it started pouring down rain, we hurried inside and sat on the bed to share our ersatz feast.

Pézenas is a treasure of a town in that laid-back natural way that happens when something old and beautiful is left untouched. We booked a comfortable, completely renovated space at the top of an 18th century house with a flower-filled garden where Renie could smoke his pipe. Molière stayed in Pézanas off and on with his theater troupe. His famous name titles many restaurants, bars, alleyways and squares. But the real draw is to the well-preserved medieval town center, one of the first in France to be designated a protected monument. Decorative iron balconies that were wrought by hand are so numerous and individualized that a whole book could be written about them. There must have been a rivalry among the stone masons and designers of arches, entries, and doors as each one is distinctive and noteworthy.

A large stone statue of St. Roch, the patron saint of dogs, is carved into the upper corner of one 17th century mansion. Legend has it that after Roch contracted the plague, he was forced to leave the city and live outside its borders. Because his faithful dog brought him bread each day, he recovered and lived to cure others of their diseases.

Brigitte and Alex came to stay for a few days. Before Brigitte retired from the French railroad SNCF, she organized trips all over France on a daily basis. Otherwise, we never would have known about the early 12th century Abbaye de Valmagne, occupied for centuries by Cistercien monks but operated today as a successful winery. Nor would we have visited Bouziques to see the oyster tables on the Thou basin and learn the history and techniques dating back to the Greeks and still used in production today.

When it was time for us to move on, we returned to the Alpes-Hautes-Provence—near Sisteron and Chateaufort—for one very good reason. We were chasing lavender.

French lavender flowers at different times, usually within a period of about one month depending on sunshine, rain, and elevation. Generally, June 15 is the earliest the blooming begins so we took a chance and reserved the Louise de Savoie suite at Chateau du Grand Jardin, a privately owned castle in Valensole, a small village positioned on a plateau of lavender fields. We only had four nights left before our flight back to the US on June 16 so this was our only chance to view 2022’s stunning display.

It was a good year to go early. Many of the fields were in full bloom. They reach from the side of the road to the horizon and the local growers allow us to walk along the rows where just brushing by the long, lush stems releases the calming fragrance. Vendors in roadside stands and shops in town sell lavender products of every sort, not only soap and essential oils, but tea, cookies, honey, jelly, pillows, dolls, and more.

Our hosts at the chateau are M. and Mme. Glory, a warm and friendly couple who bought the property twenty-one years ago when they tired of the stress of living in Paris. M. Glory left his job with Dassault, the owner of Falcon Jet in LR, and they brought their three daughters to rear in this 17th century castle. We were touched by their kindness, especially when they waited up for our return from dinner one evening and invited us into their kitchen-of-my-dreams to join them in a glass of their own Vin de Noix, 2007. It was our first taste of this liqueur made from walnuts still in their green husks then put aside for years to mellow. It was delicious. Renie reciprocated by serenading them with a rendition of “La Vie en Rose” on his harmonica.

Now home to celebrate the fourth birthday of the little guy who called in May while we were in Corsica to wish Diane happy birthday and sing “Dites-moi” from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical “South Pacific”, in French.

We’ll resume our year in France as soon as our long-stay French visas arrive – hopefully no later than the first week of August.

À bientôt!

Renie and Diane — June 23, 2022