A Painting comes alive!

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This is a different take on a cinemagraph.  A painting comes alive when the subjects interact with the canvas!  The photo /video was taken in the Latin Quarter.....Paris.  You can enlarge the image by clicking on it.
Dan

Camaraderie in the Latin Quarter

In the Latin Quarter of Paris, there is aways someone to talk to if you get up the nerve to try our your French.  The French are very proud of their language and and rightly so... a beautiful language it is.  If you make it to the Latin Quarter, stroll down the narrow streets in the early morning when the restaurants are just beginning to set up for the busy day ahead.  You will find someone who wants to talk!

The image is called a cinemagraph....see anything unusual?

Dan

Notre Dame....Queen of the Gothic Cathedrals

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Thanks to a follower of the blog....Adrian.....he mentioned that I read "Pillars of the Earth", knowing that I liked the history behind the great cathedrals of Europe.  Wow, what a book as well as it's sequel...World without End.  I will pass along Adrian's suggestion....if these massive works of art built in the middle ages amaze you as they do me....please do yourself a favor and tackle the mammoth 800 page Pillars of the Earth.  You won't be able to put it down.

Notre Dame on the Seine in Paris is probably the best known Gothic Cathedral.  I can't hardly get my head around the fact that it took over 800 years to build this magnificent edifice.  8 or 9 generations of masons, carpenters and architects worked on this cathedral.  Meaning that many of the builders did not get to see the finished product.

As with so many of the great cathedrals, gargoyles protect the church from the invasion of evil spirits.  These sentinels have stood watch for over 900 years from their lofty perches.   Being able to visit Notre Dame and stand within it's walls was one of the most memorable highlights of our European trek that summer.

Dan

Lovers - Lasting Statement

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One of our lasting impressions of Paris, the city of love were the locks.  Locks of every kind and every size....locks from a grocery store.....expensive locks from locksmiths.....padlocks......combination locks and the stories they told.

Once when having lunch at a nearby cafe, our water asked us if we had we had been to Le Pont des Arts yet???  No we hadn't.  "Be sure to visit before you leave Paris", he said.  Merci Monsieur.....and we were on our way.

There are several bridges crossing the Seine river that cuts directly through Paris...separating the left bank from the right bank.  Each bridge has a special story behind it.  Napoleon's bridge, Henri the 4th's bridge, and the Place de la Concorde bridge across from the Orsay Museum.  I had heard about the Pont des Arts (Bridge of the Arts) before.  Often there are outdoor art exhibits on the walking bridge allowing visitors to stop and admire the artist's selections.  But this was not about an art exhibit....it was about statements of love.

As we approached the bridge it was late afternoon and sun reflected off of something along the siderails of the bridge.  From a distance it looked like jewels sparkling in the sunlight.

Along several of the bridges crossing the Seine, Parisians began a custom a few years ago that continues to this day...unique among the cities I have been to.

Here is the story:  If you are in a relationship, the bridge gives you a chance to make a lasting statement about your lover.  Buy a padlock, make your statement in permanent ink with a sharpie on the padlock, take it to one of the bridges crossing the Seine and permanently attach it to the side rail of the bridge.  Then toss the key into the water below signaling a lasting commitment.  However, if the relationship has not yet flowered or has become a bit "iffy"....buy instead a combination lock and attach it.  That way if in fact the relationship heads south....one can always return and with the right combination remove the lock and none will be the wiser.  Leave it to the Parisians to even bring love to the siderail of a bridge....maybe that is where the phrase "Love is in the air" came from?

Anyway, I know there will always be a piece of me in Paris on Le Pont des Arts.

Dan

On to Paris...City of Light

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After a tearful goodbye to Rene and Elizabeth in Provence, we left our oasis among the vineyards and hilltop villages of the  Luberon Mountains bound for Aix en Provence to catch the Bullet train direct into the heart of Paris.

We were embarking on the final 10 days of our journey so this part of the trip was bittersweet to be sure but the anticipation of 10 days in Paris overwhelmed our melancholy and filled us with a renewed energy.  The past 6 weeks had found us among the countryside and small villages of rural France melting into the culture and meeting the wonderful citizens who made us feel so at home.  But now we were ready to make the switch from serenity to the buzz and electricity of one of if not the most beautiful cities in the world - Paris.  4 hours via the 285 mile an hour bullet train and we would be there.

Upon arrival, we could feel the buzz of the city swirling around us.  The sounds of the city were a welcome change for us.  Our hotel pictured above was located in the heart of the latin quarter.  The first two pictures above were taken from our hotel room.  We were in the midst of typical Parisian architecture, so iconic....when you walk the streets of the Latin Quarter....you know you are in Paris.

kDan

Off the Cliff...into the valley

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Our time at "The Refuge" was finished.  Marie, the owner of the Refuge, knew of a couple nearby down in the valley that had just remodeled a cottage on their homestead for their daughter.  However their daughter had left to visit Corsica and decided to stay on the Island.  So now they had a wonderful cottage but it was empty.  Marie put us in contact with Rene and Elisabeth Pantalucci.....the owners of the cottage.  They had decided to rent it out as a Gite and we were the first to stay there.

What a couple Rene and Elisabeth were!  They were Provencal....born and raised in Provence and spoke Provencal....a dialect of French spoken in the southeast part of France.  By this time I had become quite at ease with speaking French and could make a pretty good conversation but this was a totally new experience for me.  To me when Rene spoke....it seemed as though it was a different language.  It would be like a student who studied prim and proper Oxford English and attempted to speak to Louisiana Cajuns.  More about Rene and Elisabeth later.  The unique part about this cottage was the olive grove in the last image.  It was our own private grove!  Rene had planted the grove next to the cottage.  The trees were full of Provençal Olives...a treat each night at our meals.  Such a fundamental part of the Provencal Mediterranean diet.  Never in our wildest dreams did we think we would ever have our own Olive Grove....even if it were only for a week!

Dan

Sunday Evening in Blue

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It was the last throws of twilight on a summer evening during the 1st week in July.  That time of evening when the sunset golds and long shadows have faded and replaced by shades of blue.  Quiet had settled on the village after a busy day of tourists and it was time for a long dinner of conversation, local seafood and wine...three things that just seem to be made for each other.

Hope you have a restful Sunday!

Dan

Picasso...and Van Gogh's subjects

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The sun-drenched fields of Provence became the training ground for Vincent Van Gogh.  Everywhere he turned there were subjects to paint....the lavender fields, fields of sunflowers and red poppies.  Farmers planting their crops and the meandering Luberon Mountains are forever chronicled in Van Gogh's paintings of this period.

Also in the village of Menerbes....the last photo above...at the end of the street near the top of the village there remains today a house that Picasso and his mistress Dora Maar lived in for several years.  I can understand how the view from his home in Menerbes inspired many of his paintings as well.

Dan

Menerbes Towards the Dinner Hour

The village of Menerbes is not one of the hilltop villages of the Luberon Mountains that is often visited by tourists.  You can still drive up to Menerbes and talk to the residents, the shop owners or the local grocer and find out all the local "goings on" with the locals.  We would often head to Menerbes in the evening just before sunset at the dinner hour (8 to 10 pm local time) for a garden fresh salad and fresh seafood from the Mediterranean just an hour away.

At that time of the evening from the old walls of the village you can lookout over the the vineyards of Provence as they wind through the valleys of the Luberon bathed by the golden sunlight of Provence's perfect sunsets.  

Dan

Rose Trees Never Grow in New York City

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One of my favorite Elton John songs has always been "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters".  One of the lines in the song relates....."I never knew but now I know....Rose trees never grow in New York City".......That was one of those lines in a song that I never really understood.  I had no idea that there were actually Rose Trees until I saw them in France.  They were often planted in very symmetrical patterns in the gardens next to Chateaux or Castles.  This particular garden provided quiet walks among fresh blooming lavender (so prominent in Provence) and Rose Trees.
When I think of twilight walks...I often think of the solitude and fragrances of Rose Trees and Lavender

Dan.

Le Refuge

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High up at the end of the rock lane, up against the cliff face was Marie's cottage.  A bit further along the cliff face was our cottage...Le Refuge.  It literally was built into the cliff.  The last photo shows the dining area outside under the cliff.  The weather is so nearly perfect in Provence that this was the only dining area.  Even when it rained, it was shielded from the wetness by the overhang.  as you descended down the mountain from the Refuge, you would pass fields of lavender and vineyards.  I can see why it was used as a hiding place for the French resistance during the war...so secluded yet you could access the two lane blacktop within about 15 minutes.  At night there was a path and stone steps to take you up above the overhang of the cliff and stand looking out over the Luberon's  with nothing above you but the billions of stars and a blinding bright full moon to light the path.  There were no city or even small town lights for miles so the brilliance of the milky way shown like I had never seen it before except a night we spent out of doors a few years back in the high desert around Sedona Arizona.

When I am in a place like this I always dream about what it would be like to live here while writing a novel.  Perfectly secluded and alone with your thoughts...I would love to try it sometime.

Dan

Marie Maillot

As usual....you may click on an image to enlarge for better viewing......

I had corresponded with Marie (upper photo) for about a year before we went to France.  I dreamed and daydreamed about the the Gite before we left for Europe....How would it be to live in a troglodyte cottage?  A cottage built right into a cliff face high up in the Luberons overlooking the vineyards and villages of Provence.  This would be the most unique place we stayed while in France.

Marie was an ex advertising guru in Paris for several years.  She had visited Provence several times both on business and pleasure.  She had become bitten and infected with the romance, climate and hospitality of Provence and it's people.  She finally reached a point where she knew she had to give up the high stress metropolitan life of Paris and move to Provence.  The infection was spread so completely through her psyche that she even gave up her marriage to satisfy the call of Provence.  She found two cottages, three miles from Menerbes located at the end of a one lane rough rock road atop a mountain.  One cottage was built under an overhang of the a cliff-face and the second was built into the cliff itself.  She would take the stand alone cottage under the cliff as her own living space and rent out the cottage that was bult into the cliff.  The name of the cottage was "Le Refuge" which just as you might guess meant shelter or refuge.  The history of Le Refuge was what sparked my imagination to begin with.  This cottage was built in the 1700's in such a remote location in the hills of the Luberons in a sparsely populated part of Provence that it served as a refuge or hideout for the French Resistance Soldiers during WWII at the time the Nazis were dispatched throughout France.  The location was never uncovered by the Germans as they moved through Provence on the way to Aix and Arles during the war.  At 70 years young....Marie still rents out her Gite every year to seekers such as ourselves who want a unique taste of Provence.  The dates fill up by April or so each year and sell out everyday up until late October.

I will post more pictures of the Gite and Maire's cottage in upcoming posts.

Dan

After 11 hours of driving, we arrived at our destination in the Luberon mountains of Provence....Menerbes, France.  This area of Provence is full of vineyards with some of the best wine in France...at least in my opinion.  The chilled rose wines of Provence match the sundrenched days of summer.  This is also the land of the "perched" villages.  About every 5 miles or so...spread throughout the Luberon Mountains are picturesque villages of the middle ages  built along the ridges of the Luberons.  Literally "perched" on the peaks of the ridges.  With names such as Menerbes, Bonnieux, Gordes, Roussillon and Lacoste...these villages are begging for exploration as you drive through the countryside.

Our base for exploring was Menerbes shown above.  The first of the two Gites ( a holiday home in France rented by the owner) that we stayed at in Provence was about 3 miles from Menerbes.  It was called "Le Refuge."  It was the most unique place we stayed at during our trip.

Dan

I meant to do my work today......

I meant to do my work today....
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
and a butterfly flitted across the field,
and all the leaves were calling me.

And the wind went sighing across the land
tossing the grasses to and fro,
and a rainbow held out it's shining hand
so what could I do but laugh and go?
       Richard Le Gallienne (1866-1947)

As we headed south by way of Toulouse then west by way of  Arles and Aix-en-Provence, it became evident that we had left the verdant green valleys of the Dordogne and had entered the Mediterranean climate of romantic Provence.  The heat of summer had finally caught up to us and the rains and unseasonably cool days of the last 4 weeks were left behind in the Dordogne, Loire Valley and Colmar.       
The yellows, blues and shades of ocher and browns washed the landscapes we passed through and from time to time along the way....the bright blue/greens of the Mediterranean would explode ahead of us as we rounded a curve or crossed over the foothills of the Luberons.  This is the land of Van Gogh.  Once here, you see the unending fields of sunflowers, bright red poppies, vibrant purple lavender with visions of Van Gogh standing at his easel franticly painting to capture the beauty before the season passed.  

I first heard the above poem by Gallienne when I was in college.  It had always taken me back to my youth and captured my feelings while I grew up in a rural setting.  The totally carefree days with no responsibilities other than following my whims and dreams to see where they led me.  We had stopped at the field of sunflowers when I took this picture.  Without thinking at all, the poem again flashed across my mind as I stood feeling the warm breezes of Provence calling me.  Somehow I knew the poem was written for me to experience that moment in the sunflower field.  Poetry is like that...only words spoken with a particular rhythm but so personal.  

Dan

Last Trip Through the Dordogne

After 12 days of exploring the Dordogne, we spent our last day traveling to Sarlat.  The oldest most preserved medieval village in France.  Located in the southern most part of the Dordogne valley, we arrived and stepped back into time.

Surrounded by castles on the misty ridges around the valley, Sarlat is a maze of small street ...as all village during the 1200s were.  No pre arranged street grids at that time in history.  The villages grew one house or building at a time.  Usually branching out from the center where the church or cathedral was located.  As the day progressed it began to rain.  Normally this would have been a disappointment but in the Dordogne a slow steady rain just added to the realism and led us down thoughts of how it really must have been to lived during that time.  On the way back for the last time to our Bed and Breakfast we passed along small French villages often no more than one street...set off the one lane roads we were traveling.  We would leave the road and spend time in the small village taking in the serenity of it all.

Tomorrow we would pack up and head to Provence in southwestern France for an extended period.  It would be a total change of scenery from the lush greens of the Dordogne valley to the arid almost tropical climate that borders Northern Spain.