She said:

Ok, we jinxed ourselves . It rained, but only once, and only for about 5 minutes. Actually, with the grueling heat, we weren't terribly disappointed for the cloud cover, but nonetheless, it hasn't repeated itself yet.

Anyway, we arrived in Arles early because it is so close to Nimes, and went straight to the first hotel listed in our guidebook. It described the owner as "American loving" and talked of balconies in every room. Well, the owner and his wife were as nice as described, and the balconies were also pretty cool. However, I am pretty sure they haven't renovated the place since opening day, which was probably about 2-4 decades ago! But, in the spirit of flexibility, budgeting, and not having to look any further with our packs on, I agreed to stay. Although reassured by a balcony and ceiling fan, I still proceeded to unpack my sleep sac...

We took the rest of the day to explore the Provencal town of Arles. Chad decided that we should hit the ground running with our exploration, and suggested that we go to a History of Arles 101 museum. It seems that only Rick Steves himself goes to this museum, which was located so far from the center of town it took us 10 minutes just to find it on the map. After about an hour walk, much of it near/on a major highway, we finally found the place and were the ONLY people there except for the employees. I am not kidding; we were outnumbered by employees three to one! It was sort of nice though to have the place to ourselves, and it set the stage for the many sites around town we would be seeing in the next couple of days .

We decided to utilize our balcony for dinner, so we went in search of a supermarket. We found Monoprix, a store we had seen in other French towns, which had pharmaceutical products, food/produce, and cheap clothing. It was actually sort of fun being in a food store again with so much variety. Not that restaurants don't have variety, but after eating out for so many weeks, it was nice to be able to control the price a bit better for the foods we wanted. We tried to stay within a certain budget and got an array of food and drink (see picture). It was wonderful, we put on the IPOD and enjoyed dinner while watching all the people down below us.

I was eagerly looking forward to the next day because there was supposed to be a huge open market around town. As most of you know, I am crazy about street fairs and open markets, so I was prepared to loose Chad at some point and immerse myself amongst the people and vendors! We found the market early in the morning and Chad suggested we go through once to see it all before stopping at all the food, clothing, and miscellaneous vendors. There were fish markets with whole tunas, dolphin fish, and tons of oysters and mussels. The produce was fresh and there were heaps of spices waiting to be purchased. There were shoe vendors, clothing vendors, and bags galore. When we finally reached the end, I hesitantly agreed to come back around lunchtime so we could eat and shop .

From there, it became Roman-day. We went to an old church with cloisters and a temporary photography exhibit, saw a Roman obelisk outside the church which used to be in the center of the Roman circus, and went to a Roman theatre (still in use for special occasions). We sat in the square and listened to an opera-esque street performer with a repertoire including Carmen, Sinatra, and Isreali folk music!

By the early afternoon, I was getting antsy to return to the market. On our walk back, we noticed a plethora of street sweepers and trash on the ground. Turns out the market had closed and we were walking through what was one of the liveliest places in the town about 3 hours prior. I cannot explain how bummed I was, Chad felt terrible and allowed me to sulk for a reasonable amount of time before buying me lunch to make me feel better.

We enjoyed happy hour(s) on our balcony before it was time to attend a bull race. Yes, another bull spectacle, however, I only agreed because Chad promised me that they do not kill the bulls in France, and it would be a great way for us to see the Roman amphitheatre/arena. It turned out to be quite silly actually, about 10 men ran around the bullring trying to get the bull to chase them while attempting to pull some sort of cloth off the bulls horns. After the third bull, we were both ready to go . We went to eat at Place de Forum (the questionable site of a famous café Van Gogh painted, La Café Nuit). After dinner, we went to an infamous glacier and tried the recommended homemade olive oil ice cream. It was delicious, mixed with honey and nougat. To complete the day, we walked along the Rhone River, and tried to sleep in our heat-box, mosquito infested room...with a great balcony! ;)

We decided the night before that it was time for an alone day, as it has been about 5 weeks and we have not taken one. Even though we are both aware that days alone are important to our survival as a married couple, it really isn't that easy logistically to take a day alone when you are only in a town for 3-5 days. Nonetheless, I prepared myself with a map of my own and took Chad's French phrasebook. I was awake first so I decided to go downstairs, alone, to have some coffee. When I came back up to officially split our day (i.e. room key, money, etc.), Chad was still in bed and suggested we just eat together and then split up . I laughed and agreed, and when all was said and done, we had about an hour alone all day. We talked of the next possible "alone day" in the next town and went for the 2 hour Van Gogh walking tour we pre-booked at the tourist office. It was a very interesting tour; that crazy guy painted like 300 or so paintings between Arles and St-Remy in only 2-3 years. Who knows what would have become of him had he not cut his ear off and eventually killed himself!

The next day, we decided to take a day trip to Les Baux and St-Remy instead of moving our stuff and finding a new place to stay. Neither town was far, so we got up early and took the bus to Les Baux first. This is an old medieval town, basically known for the remains of a castle that was once there. We took about three hours to explore the grounds; hiked up to the top to see the views, listened to our audioguide to hear of what once occurred where we stood, looked out at the olive trees and vineyards, and watched the employees of the castle re-enact duals as they were during the Roman times . Drenched with sweat, we consumed large slushies (see picture) and had lunch overlooking the ravine.

We hopped back on the bus and headed to St-Remy. Here we took another Van Gogh inspired walk and stopped at every place he presumably painted while housed in the psychiatric hospital. Drenched again with sweat, we explored some of the town center and stopped to enjoy a Nutella/banana crepe and a cold drink (well deserved after a day of walking!). We caught the last bus of the day and the driver laughed at how sun drenched and exhausted we looked since she had seen us earlier that morning.

For our last night in Arles, we ate dinner at the restaurant below our hotel and talked of our next Provencal stop, L'Isle Sur La Sorgue, where we reserved a room, not only with A/C, but also with a rooftop pool!

He Said:

Arles, aside from Paris, is probably the town I was most looking forward to visiting . It has the famous Provencal light, which I couldn't quite capture with the camera the way I would have liked. It has history that includes many Roman ruins and a twisted, love-hate relationship with the relocated painter, Vincent Van Gogh. It has a lively cafe scene, of which I feel like we were constantly taking part. It has more slushie stands than any place in the world I have ever seen or imagined, and on hot, Provencal-summer days, it was not uncommon for us to eat two or three of them in the course of an hour. Most of all, though, Arles had a feel that I never really thought I would experience outside the United States. It sort of felt like home.

Now I realize Alli has joked that I would say that about every place we visit, and in some sense she is right, but there was something different about Arles. Maybe it has to do with the fact I am really settling in with the language in a way I didn't think possible. Words are coming back to me at the strangest times, like in the middle of a slushie brain freeze . I'm able to hold coversations besides the basic survival skills. And I'm really shocked that there is something I learned in high school that I'm actually putting to day-to-day use now.

Alli asked me what we would do if we stayed in Arles for a month or so. There are so many cafes to sit at, so many squares to paint, so many window boxes to photograph, so many pastis to drink, and so many interesting people to write about that I asked myself, is a month really long enough, especially since the food and Freedom wine is so good?

We took a great walking tour on Van Gogh's Arles (probably the best ten euro we've spent on the trip thus far) that was given by an American woman from Maine. She came to France in 1969, met her husband, and has been here ever since. I wish I would have asked if a month would have been enough for her.

She took us through town and showed us many of the plaques the city has erected from where Van Gogh painted many of his most well-known paintings. She showed us where his easel was placed when he painted "Night Sky Over the Rhone." She explained the story of Van Gogh cutting his ear off and how the city signed a petition to have him sent to the hospital. She also explained that, to this day, many Arlesians feel great remorse for how they treated Van Gogh during his time in their city . After the tour was over, she ended with her closing remarks and put an end to the awkward silence that always comes after spending two intimate hours talking with someone you'll never talk to again by walking under the arcade of Espace Van Gogh, which was once the hospital he lived in, and she was gone.

We also took a day to fully explore the Roman ruins of Arles. They were all built around 2000 years ago and include a theater, arena, and ancient circus where they held chariot races, commonly refered to as the NASCAR of Rome (Is Danica really leaving the IRL? What a joke). We went to an Arlesian "bull race" where local kids run around the ring with the bull and try to pull ribbons from in between their horns. The person with the most ribbons wins money from local businesses and sponsors. Again, it seemed just as rooted in Roman culture as the Spanish bullfights, but sitting inside a 2000-year-old amphitheater, it seemed even more Roman.

On our day trip from Arles we took the bus to Les Baux and St-Remy. Les Baux is a medieval town and castle built atop a rock overlooking the Val d'Enfers, or The Valley of Hell. The only thing I can think of that went into the naming of this valley is the heat, because the scenery is spectacular and the hillside alleyways are otherworldy.

In St-Remy, we visited ruins from another ancient Roman villa called Glanum . It's residents created a monument to the grandsons of Augustus called the Mausolee des Jules, that is one of the most unique structures in the Roman world, as it a temple atop a double-entry triumphal arch atop a sculpted, retangular base.

We also walked Van Gogh's path in St-Remy, and visited many of the countryside vistas he painted while staying in the still-operational mental ward there. There were flower-covered pathways, sky-scraping cypress trees, and groves of olive trees. By looking, especially at the olive trees, one can really see how Van Gogh began to explore vibrations and energy in the paintings he created while in St-Remy. The most famous he painted here is probably "Stary Night" which is now in the MOMA in NYC.

Our last stop in St-Remy was the Nostradamus fountain. He was born in St-Remy in 1503, went to college in Montpellier, and really made a name for himself in the Provence region by practising medicine . He was really a scientist, but is obviously more well-known for his predictions in a book called "The Centuries."

Of all the time we spent in Arles, Les Baux, and St-Remy, our favorite was probably the time we spent on our balcony overlooking Place Voltaire. We watched it come to life in the morning with street sweepers and sleepy Arlesians looking for a cafe au lait. We watched it in the afternoon as the pastis drinkers began to asseble for Green Hour, so named for the greenish color pastis gets when mixed with water. And we watched it at night over our picnic as street performers played for a family dinner at the cafe down below.

During all times of day, though, we watched as five different streets coverged to the same spot on the square. Without the direction of signs or lights, drivers and mopeds somehow navigated past each other time and time again with only the use of hand gestures and occasional shouts. Impressive, though I will say the French drivers are possibly the worst I have ever seen. Never in my life have I seen a population of people stall their cars more than the French.

A bien tot.

They said:

Happy Birthday Marta!