From Dordogne to Provence

As difficult as it was to leave Le Bugue and the Dordogne, the fact that we were heading for Provence kept us from feeling too blue. So Saturday morning – Bastille Day – we packed ourselves into our two vans and headed east.

Our route took us to Toulouse, where we dropped Maggie off at the airport – but no tears for her. She’s joining her sister in Spain for some R&R from all this exhaustive French travel.

On the way, Mario took us on a detour through Cahors to view Pont de Valentré, a spectacular fortified bridge that has remained intact since it was built in the 1300s.

The lush rolling hills of the Dordogne gave way to the dry scrubby rugged topography of Provence. It was hard to believe we were in the same country.

Because we were traveling on a holiday, the highways were very busy and the long drive was made even longer.  We were getting hungry, so when we saw this restaurant sign in a tiny town outside Carcassonne, we were thrilled – they seemed to have something for everyone!

But when we went in, they said the chef had gone home. After some pathetic pleading, they relented, but they could serve only pizza. Ah well, beggars can’t be choosers.

For some inexplicable reason, there were statues of the Blues Brothers outside the restaurant. For a brief moment, they morphed into the Blues Brothers plus a Sister.

We finally arrived in our Provence home, on the outskirts of a tiny town called Grambois. Don’t bother looking for it on a map. But it’s near Pertuis, which you can find on a map - if you have a magnifying glass. Alan exclaimed, "If you wook carefuwwy, you might find a partwidge in Pertuis!"

We were tired and hungry, but our spirits were buoyed when we saw the place we were going to call home for a whole week. It was hard to decide what was more stunning, the house or the views.

We think we’ll be able to suffer through.

On Sunday, Michael H. joined us. So we are once again eight. He was supposed to come with Dorcas, but sadly she had to stay home to tend to her ailing father. We all miss her, wish her father well and regret that she is not with us .