She said:

L'Isle Sur La Sorgue, otherwise referred to as "The Venice of Provence", has taken the lead for one of my top places visited so far . This Provencal town was exactly as promised, "A little market town with gnarled vineyards and wind-sculpted trees sitting in the middle of the Sorgue River." We slept late, ceased some of the "touring", enjoyed the surroundings, and just exhaled- sure, our air-conditioned room with a pool on the roof helped a lot also!

From the moment we arrived, it seemed that everywhere I looked contained some aesthetic essence about it. For example, since the town literally sits in the middle of the river, on almost every street, you could see a branch of the river running beside you. There were old waterwheels, some still turning and in use, some not in use but left corroded as if to brag about their age and previous utilization. All along the river, locals and tourists alike were dipping their feet in the ice cold water trying to get some relief from the grueling heat. There were flat bottom boats called nego-chins, floating down the river (unfortunately, we couldn't figure out if we could actually rent one, or if they were just used for fishing purposes by the locals). This town is also famous for its antiques. We must have passed a dozen antique shops on the walk from the train station with so many gems collected from many years ago.

On the day we arrived, there was no problem finding a place because we pre-booked the one I described above (it had A/C and a pool, enough said) . We had a late lunch after our initial stroll through town (customary when we arrive to a new town, stroll and then eat). We engaged in a nice conversation with one of the owners, and when she noticed one of Chad's three shirts, his Guinness shirt, she asked if we were from Ireland. She was in fact Irish, married to a Provencal man, and has lived here for 20+ years. She told us of the local goings-on and we spoke briefly of our travels thus far.

You may remember my disappointment from the Arles blog when the street market closed early. Well, I was rewarded with the biggest open market in all of Provence the next day. We weren't sure if we had our days correct, but we hit the jackpot. We woke up, ate breakfast, and hit the fair. We asked the first vendor what time they close so I knew exactly how much time I had and how many times I could circle. Chad stayed long enough to get some new sunglasses and listen to an awesome swing band playing on the street. We actually stayed a while and listened to this French/English jazz band play swing music to the Sunday afternoon market . From there, Chad left me to do my thing. I must have circled like 3 times; every time I turned a corner, there was a street with undiscovered vendors. Yes, I got my fill and rewarded us both with oversized slushies (which seem to be our favorite thing lately).

The next day was an alone day, a real alone day this time. Chad set off with his paints and I with my map and somewhat fluid itinerary of things I wanted to see/do. I explored some of the antique shops, went in search of some birthday surprises for Chad, and ate some fruit while dipping my feet in the Sorgue (it's really cold!). I read my book, filled out some postcards, and sat by the pool. Before I knew it, it was early evening and Chad returned to take a dip in the pool and we went for dinner.

The next day, we took a Rick Steves guided walk through town. We saw a Baroque church which was quite beautiful and more ornate than ones we have seen previously. After Chad finished his confessional, we proceeded through the waterwheels onto Le Bassin. This is a "pond" where the river enters the town, filled with small fish and fleeting ducks. The walk continued to a tapenade (olive spread) store where we sampled olives, spreads, and olive oils. The walk continued on for another mile or so, past waterfront homes, to a place called Partage des Eaux (where the water joins before entering the city) . There were tons of people swimming, picnicking, sunbathing, etc. Feeling inspired by the beauty of this area, Chad took out his paints. I grabbed his pastels, and we both began to capture the scene. It was quite funny how mine came out, but I think Chad thought it was nice that we were being creative together. Many times throughout his painting, people would surround him and comment on his talent. I shook my head in agreement and silently wondered if this would be his career when we returned...

We took an early evening dip in the pool and showered for dinner. We were craving authentic food because in an effort to be budget-conscious, we realized since arriving, we had only eaten sandwiches, pizzas, slushies, and even Chinese food one night. We enjoyed a long, Provencal dinner (average 1.5-2 hours). Chad ate some sort of raw meat (like many locals eat, although I don't know how they don't get Mad Cow Disease or something), and I ate a delicious scallop dish called Coquille St . Jacques, a creamy scallop dish served in the enormous shells from which it came.

During dinner, an interesting conversation began that continued throughout the night. The conversation was about staying in one place for a substantial amount of time and assimilating to the town or city. We have been listening to "A Year in Provence" book on tape, which basically illustrates a married couple's life throughout their first year in Provence. They talk of long lunches, dips in the pool, and get togethers with friends. At some point, the author refers to himself as becoming a vegetable. It was this book I began to think about when Chad mentioned staying in a town like L'Isle Sur La Sorgue for an undetermined amount of time. I found myself in a bit of a Catch 22. I am aware that 99 out of 100 people (including myself during a grueling work week) would love to spend 3-4 weeks in a small town with nothing to do but swim, stroll, shop, eat, and sleep. However, I began to think that I might get bored (incomprehensible laughter erupted at that statement). Maybe it's the "worker bee" in me, maybe it's the way of life of a New Yorker (and many American cities) that requires you to go, go, go. I don't know, but it is something that I continue to think about as I learn of other cultures and their daily ways of life.

In most of Europe, people work early and take the afternoon for a long lunch and relaxation . Then some work again in the evening, some do not. It seems they don't crave the weekend like we do because they take a sufficient amount of time during the week to exhale. Also, they take what seems like mandatory holidays (vacations). How many of us accrue vacation time and say, "maybe next year." I am not sure how I feel about being a "vegetable", but it has awakened my senses to my initial response of "what would we do everyday?"...get jobs and stay somewhere for a while??? who knows...

Chad: Happy Birthday my love!

Jessica: good luck on August 5th, I can't wait to hear that mommy and her new son are doing well!!!!

He Said:

Just a few miles away from Avignon, a city which once was the center of the Catholic Church when it was briefly moved from Rome, the town of Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is literally an "Island in the Sorgue ." It used to supply the pope with fresh fish and produce, but now it mostly supplies tourists with antiques and local diners with sleepy café settings along branches of the Sorgue River that splinter through town.

It has the famous Provencal light I have mentioned before. It is a light that is so strong it overexposes the landscape and makes life appear like an old spool of worn-out film, at least until the sun begins to set and everything is seen in shades of orange and rose. I twice set out to try to paint some of the town, and was twice completely disgusted with what I produced. Alli is too kind. Oil paints just might suit me a little better than water colors, who knows. But at least I think I'm finally starting to see how the light plays with the camera lens.

We explored the famous Isle-sur-la-Sorgue Sunday market, some of us more than others, and ran into so many sites, sounds, and smells we almost decided to stick around for a few weeks . There were spices from nearby North Africa. There were bright flowers, such as the artichoke flower that was a bit beyond my comprehension (I thought people ate artichokes.) And there was a great three-piece band called Gig Street, of which the front-man sax player is an expatriate from New Orleans. As much as I enjoyed the market, it was nice to stand around and listen to some music instead of looking at the same homemade beads, baby clothes, and peasant shirts that Alli sees every single weekend at every single street fair in New York. We enjoyed the band so much, especially the song "Souviens Toi De Moi" (see attached soundbite), that we bought their CD for 18 euro.

Unfortunately we didn't get to stick around long enough to ask the sax player any questions, but if we had, they probably would have been the same questions we've been asking all the expatriates we've met from so many different countries that seem to move to Provence and never move away . Why did you come here? Why did you stay? And to borrow a line from Jimmy Buffett, it makes me wonder why we ever go home.

Alli and I began to have a similar conversation between the entrée and main course of dinner on our last night in town. Maybe it was the rose wine we've been drinking so much of, but we started to talk about sticking around for a while.

"After all, the only immediate plan we have is to meet Fred in Rome on August 12, so if we want to stay here until the 11th, we can."

I was really shocked by Alli's response. She was worried that she'd have nothing to do, when only a few days before, she was looking forward to leaving Arles because there is too much to do. I guess sometimes men just aren't supposed to understand, and even if I did, I told her that 999 people out of 1000 would take two weeks of doing nothing in Provence before I could even finish this sentence.

The bottom line is that we didn't wind up staying, but we did open things up to the possibility of sticking around in one place for a while. It's something I thought we had discussed before, but now it seems like a reality so long as we can find a place where we both agree to stay. To be honest, with the two markets Isle-sur-la-Sorgue has each week, that might have been our best bet, but we'll see.