Saturday, July 25, 2020

Lavender Fields Forever

One of the local trips around Montpellier we’d been planning was a visit to the lavender fields in Provence, a couple of hours north and east of where we live.  However, our return from Italy had us passing right by that area, so we thought we'd stop there for the night  and cut a couple of hours off the day’s drive. 

As usual, Paula surveyed potential lodgings in the area before we left (via the Internet, of course). Seems that the small towns, with their promise of seclusion and endless cuteness, were both very expensive, or not available (or both!) Same with the town of Valensole, which is definitely Lavender Central. What to do?

The town square in Manosque.
 

As we studied the map, Google pointed out that the fastest route to Valensole looped west towards Montpellier before turning back east to Valensole. The shortest, most direct route was along the back roads. France’s dĂ©partemental routes can be a real joy to drive, winding through the countryside at a relaxed pace. But we figured that after five hours through tunnels and work zones we’d be anxious just to get there. So we’d skip the meandering and take Google’s suggested fast route, which lead through the town of Manosque.  As a place to spend the night Manozque seemed like second best, but lodging was plentiful and the hotels were inexpensive.



Church in the Manosque town square, with an interesting pentagram pebble mosaic.


Our room in Manosque, and Van Gogh's in Arles; that could be the same chair! (almost). After all, Arles is only about an hour and a half from Manosque.

Our initial disappointment gave way to delight once we’d checked in. We had a cute, very pleasant hotel in the middle of the (quite small) old town, with a good selection of restaurants within walking distance. We had an excellent meal, cooked and served by a woman who was very pleased to have us as customers. (Significant difference between American and French restaurants: in France, the main focus is on serving the customer by providing an excellent dining experience, and making some money. In America, the priorities are reversed.)

 

Sunflowers! We saw sunflowers, too!

The next morning we headed out, the GPS programmed with lavender fields recommended on several websites we’d researched earlier. While there was a bit of confusion at first (we had to readjust our thinking: this was no longer the "return from Italy trip"; now it was the lavender field trip!), soon enough we were in the thick of it. Sunflowers, endless fields of lavender, distant mountain peaks (the Alps?), and—surprise—pink lavender! (I think…). Well, just look at the photos!


A seemingly endless field of sunflowers...

...next to an endless field of lavender!

One of Paula's photos; she was quite taken by the sunflowers! (And they seem so attentive to her.)




Paula photographed the flowers; I liked the bees!


Along with the lavender lavender, we also found this pink lavender.

Mixing the two colors made some beautiful combinations.

The distant mountains set off the fields.

Sunflowers can really make you feel like the center of attention!

The fields aren't endless, they only seem that way.

We did eventually make it to the town of Valensole. It was, perhaps, marginally cuter than Manosque, much steeper, and certainly more crowded (Manosque definitely had a better choice of restaurants!). We stopped there for a late lunch, and slowly wound our way back home to Montpellier.


Arriving at the center of town in Valensole after climbing down a long, narrow, steep street.

Like all over Provence, plane trees keep the town center cool and shady.







And so ends our trip to Italy. We are planning a visit to la Bretagne, Brittany, in a few weeks. Stay tuned!

And, whoops, rising COVID numbers in Brittany means we put the kibosh on that idea; instead next week we'll take advantage of the dearth of tourists and take the train to Paris...


Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Andiamo in Italia - Seconda Parte

Lucca

 


This is the second part of our trip to Italy. See the first part here.


First off, why did we go to Lucca? History! Short term: three years ago we came to explore Lucca and the surrounding area. Longer term: about 120 years ago my grandparents were born near there! Which, after all, is why we went there in the first place… This time we wanted to recreate our trip of three years ago (see that blog here), except spend more time in Florence, a train ride away. 

 

Our arrival in Lucca was preceded by a drive along coastal mountains that, at first, appeared to be sprinkled with snow. This got Paula’s attention, but she quickly realized that it wasn’t snow, it was stone. We were passing through Carrara, site of the marble mountains that have been providing the raw material for statues since before the Romans. And still are today!

 

That ain't snow on these mountains near Carrara!

Before long we saw storage yards on both sides of the road filled with massive stone blocks: was a future David hidden in one of them? Other yards had snow-white sheets lined up, eventually to be, perhaps, tiles in some Fifth-Avenue penthouse? (Or in a more modest home in Atascadero?) And still visible in the distance were the white mountains of stone feeding these stockpiles of marble. 

A few of the many yards for storing and handling marble from Carrara. 

Here's a truckload of happiness for some sculptor!


Lucca is not on many tourist itineraries, it has no great monuments or particularly interesting works of art. It does have a history: it was an Etruscan settlement, and a Roman colony by 180 BCE. Julius Caesar met there with Pompey and Crassus in 56BCE. But as mentioned earlier, we have personal reasons to visit. 


Much of the old town was built in the same era as Florence, with buildings designed in the same style, and probably by some of the same people. So, magnificent churches with impressive facades? Check. Tall towers visible from a good distance away? Check. Massive numbers of tourists clogging the streets? Ah, no. But it does have narrow, shaded streets that curve mysteriously off in the distance, good restaurants, and plenty of gelato.



Seen from the train: these barns are found in Tuscany, but only near Lucca. The open brick lattice allows for good ventilation in the hot summers.

 



The green oasis of the city walls!


The most significant feature of Lucca is the walls surrounding the old city. Built for defense during the Renascence (although, apparently, they never served in battle), today they are preserved in their entirety, a rarity. Most impressive for me are the vast swaths of grassy fields around the walls (the former moat?). The walls themselves are brick, surmounted by massive trees. Approaching the walls from the hot and noisy modern part of the city, the old town appears as an oasis of green.


Even outside the walls, there are some magnificent homes in Lucca...

 

On this trip we stayed at the same Airbnb as on our last visit. Our hostess was very glad to see us again, and we were pleased to reconnect with her. While her rooms are a bit out from the center (a 10-minute walk?), there is space for parking a car. Added bonus: we could leave the car there while we were in Florence.


We passed these every day on our walk to the city.

The main purpose of our trip was to visit Florence before the crowds arrived. That worked well, but it was still a relief to get back to low-key, compact Lucca. We spent several long, tranquil evenings wandering the quiet streets as the sky slowly darkened. Sunday was our last full day in Lucca, and our hostess suggested we might want to drive up into the surrounding hills and visit some of the quaint villages; we studied the map and laid out a plan. But, it was not to be!


Detail of the gate from one house. Note the Tuscan shutters--they hinge up to let in light and air while keeping out the intense direct sun.



We left our parking spot Sunday morning anticipating a visit to a much-less traveled part of Tuscany. The route out of the parking lot was a tortuous path around several buildings (pretty standard, in Europe), ending with a security gate blocking off the main road. Not terribly difficult, but at the end, we could not get the electric gate to open! It was just a long plastic pipe across the exit, but the key fob we’d been given simply did not work. We finally accepted that today was not the day for us to be out driving.


Except… getting the car back to its parking space required backing down that long and tortuous path. At least the car was equipped with bumper sensors all around, and an advanced back-up camera that somehow gave an image of the car seen from above. I slowly reversed down the steep slope, and… oh, mercy! Found I could turn around. Ah, that made it easier! 


And thus ended our Tuscan driving adventure.


Approaching the city walls. Paula--mask in hand--heads for one the smaller, human-sized entrances. 

Through the tunnel under the wall and into the city!

Once inside we are greeted by one of Lucca's many towers.

The walls at night.
 


Instead of driving we spent the day strolling on the top of the city walls, some 4km (2.4 miles) all around. They’re wide enough for a two-lane road, but thankfully, are only open to pedestrians—and bicycles. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant owned by a couple who had stayed with us some years ago, back when our spare bedroom was an Airbnb guest room. It was good to connect up with them again; we were glad they were still in business, since the COVID lockdown was quite hard on everybody. (We figure part of our responsibility as travelers is to pump a little money into the local economy, which we were happy to do!)

 

The beautiful shaded road atop the wall.

Looking north across the city to the distant hills.

Looking south into the new town... and the distant hills.

Not much more to say about Lucca, really. It was very pretty, quiet, low key, and we had a great gin and tonic at a bar our last evening there!

 

 

Narrow curving streets provide deep shade on even the hottest days.


A quiet square in the old town.

Chiesa di San Michele in Foro, St. Michael's church on the site of the ancient roman Forum (the in Foro part of the name), with its funky statue of St Michael.

 


The bell tower of Chiesa di San Michele, seen down a narrow street.

Lucca's duomo, or cathdral, the Duomo di San Martino


A Saturday night happy hour crowd, social but not distancing! (Note the "Cafe Puccini" on the right: Giacomo Puccini, the opera composer, was born in Lucca!) 

The magnificent mosaic facade of the Basilica di San Fediano


One end of the huge Piazza dell'Anfiteatro, an oval "square" on the site of the former Roman amphitheater.

An entrance to the Piazza dell'Anfiteatro.

And finally, Torre Guinigi at night, a medieval tower topped with an oak tree.


 UP NEXT: The drive back. We didn’t go straight home; instead, we spent the night near the lavender fields of Provence and did a bit of exploring before getting on the road to Montpellier.


Monday, July 6, 2020

Andiamo in Italia!

             Firenze


As expected, Florence was not very crowded. Hardly deserted, but certainly not jammed with the crowds that had us running for cover after only a few hours when we were here three years ago. (Read about that trip here.) We’d left the car in Lucca and took the train to the big city, where Paula had, as always, found us an excellent place to stay. In this case it was a former convent a few blocks from the main train station.

 

The apartment had 20 foot ceilings with a loft bedroom and bath, and the long tall walls were covered with original art. The owner, who met us at the apartment, explained who had done the paintings; some he had done himself, some by his father. He also warned us about the antique furniture—it really wasn’t to be used (there were dressers and closets in the loft bedroom). Oh, and don’t sit in this one special chair, the couch and other chairs were ok, though. He left us to unwind after our hour-and-a-half train ride, and we had a chance to admire the place, and pretend it was ours. 


Our convent cell. Portrait in the center of the far left wall is of our host, done by his father.

Our Big Event, that first day, was a visit to the Uffizi Gallery, home to… well, an impressive number of masterpieces. It is, in a certain way, home base for the Renaissance, that opening of art and science that occurred in the 15th century, centered in Florence. Uffizi means “office,” and the building that now houses one of the world’s most famous museums was originally built as offices for the Medici family, the rulers of Florence for several generations. (Why do things sound so much better in Italian?  Uffizi is so much more satisfying than “offices;” and Giuseppe Verdi… why, who wouldn’t prefer that to the pedestrian Joe Green?)

Courtyard of the Uffizi

Anyway, the top floor of this office building was a showcase for the art that the Medici family had accumulated over its very long time in power; and, it still is.

 

Upper gallery of the Uffizi, the museum

 What added enormously to our experience on this trip was our guide, Rick Steves. Well, no, of course he did not accompany us! But we had downloaded his (free) walking tour and played it, earbuds clogging our ear canals, as we made our way through the museums, and even in the streets of Florence. (We used his audio guides to Rome and the Vatican when we were there a few years ago, which also added greatly to our trip.) On our first trip to Europe together—our honeymoon two decades earlier—we’d found his book, Europe Through the Back Door, a revelation, and invaluable. And even though the mode and goals of our travels today are quite different from his, we still value the information he provides. 

Statues from antiquity, part of the Uffizi collection.

Rick speaks knowledgeably about art. In the Uffizi he—or his disembodied voice—guided us to several paintings showing the evolution of style. We started with the flat, perspective-less iconography of the late Middle Ages, intended to decorate a church and inform and remind the illiterate faithful. 

Simone Martini, Annunciation with St Margaret and St Ansanus, 1333: everything is flat; it's very iconographic. These aren't real people! (image from Wikipedia)

We moved through a collection of paintings showing increasing awareness of perspective and depth, culminating with The Annunciation, by 23-year old Leonardo Da Vinci, with its geometric lines and fixed vanishing point. Quite a change in a few years!

The Annunciation, by Leonardo DaVinci when he was about 20. Far more realistic!


Birth of Venus, by Botticelli (aka Venus on the Half Shell), a big hit with the crowd.

Before he turned to painting, Botticelli was a goldsmith, and reportedly used gold dust in his paints. Like here, in the hair of Venus.

Of course, the big draw for paintings was Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Lots of cell phones out, snapping pics of that one! Less popular but no less significant is In the Spring by the same artist. Both of these magnificent paintings illustrate the move away from religious themes, with women being depicted as angels or the Virgin Mary, to more humanistic themes, and the emergence (or re-emergence) of the goddess.

 

Springtime, also by Botticelli; another big hit. Rather than religious figures, it depicts classic gods and goddesses, and just plain folks, out enjoying the fine weather.

This shift in thinking from religious to humanistic was at the core of the Renaissance (which literally means re-birth), and Florence, the epicenter of it all, is saturated with its signs. The streets are full of statues from many eras, and the architecture itself is witness to the huge changes wrought during that expressive period.

 

Andrea dei Verracchio did most of this painting, but his student, Leonardo da Vinci, painted the angel on the far left. Let's have a closer look...

A sweet little kid! The angel on the right seems to recognize--and resent--that Leonardo's angel is better. Reportedly, Verracchio was so shamed by da Vinci's better understanding of color and form that he never painted again (it's ok, he was an accomplished metalworker and sculptor.)


View from the end of the gallery at the Uffizi, and the scene that every Renaissance artist aspired to recreate: the distance dimmer and smaller, the foreground clear and robust. Oh, and note the tiled roof starting at the lower right and extending across the Ponte Vecchio: it enclosed a walkway clear across the river to the Piti Palace, residence of the Medicis. It was for the daily commute to their uffizi.


Another roof-top view of Florence, with Giotto's Bell Tower and Brunelleschi's Dome

After the magnificent views of the Duomo and Baptistery, my favorite part of the city is Piazza della Signoria, in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. Here is where Michelangelo’s David was originally placed (there’s a copy there now), along with a collection of other statues. More impressive to my mind was the realization that it was in this square, this plaza, that the daily lives of the Renaissance-era citizens occurred—including those whose novel ideas in art, finance, business, architecture, and governance still influence us today.

 

Palazzo Vecchio, built in the 14th C, just pre-dating the Renaissance.


The Loggia dei Lanzi and it's famous statues, part of the Piazza della Signoria. 

Entrance to the Palazzo Vecchio; note (the copy of) the statue of David on the far left, in it's original location.

It was also here, near the end of the 15th Century, that Girolamo Savonarola started his “bonfire of the vanities,” encouraging the citizens of Florence to give up their sinful ways, and support a purer, more religious life by surrendering their earthly possessions and literally burning them in a huge fire. Mirrors, fine clothes, furniture, books, even paintings were tossed in and consumed. But Savonarola’s influence was short lived; a few years later he himself succumbed to the flames in this same square, burned by the Church as a heretic.    

The 14th C. splendor inside the Piazza della Signoria

 After  a tough day at the uffizi we were very glad to escape to our former convent cell, take a quick shower, relax, and give our little ufeetizis a rest (not my joke; I just had the bad taste to repeat it!) And I learned how delicious it is to half-doze on the couch with the piano music of Dominico Scarlatti playing softly in the background…

 

The next day we had tickets to the Galleria dell'Accademia, known for its sculptures by Michelangelo, including the incomparable David. I’m not a big fan of statuary myself, but the works here are extraordinary, even to a duffer like me. While the Accademia is small, especially compared to the Uffizi, we did spend some time there studying the statues and trying to understand how such magnificent forms could be created out of an ungainly block of rock. Now, that’s genius! 

 

Well presented, David is the big draw at the Accademia--but there is more. Note the sculptures along the walls, on the right and left...



David studies Goliath, focused, confident: "I can take this guy..."

These tortured figures, called the Slaves, were carved by Michelangelo. They are unfinished. Or are they? What's the sculptor trying to convey with these men struggling to emerge?


Quite a contrast: the rough-hewn Slaves (aka Prisoners) and the finely-polished David

Also in the Accademia: these are apparently the "senior projects" of students who have studied sculpture here.

I think I'd love to strike up a conversation with this lady!

One thing we noted about the streets of Florence: while they were nowhere near as crowded as they had been on our previous visit three years ago, the people we did see all had masks. No, not the highly-decorated ones used at Carnival in Venice, just the ordinary cloth ones we’ve all gotten so sick of. Not everyone wore them in the streets—about ¼ to 1/3 pulled them down around their chin, or carried them on their wrist or arm. But everyone had one. And the museums, and certain larger stores, had doormen (guards!) ensuring the masks were properly worn inside, and that everyone had their temperature checked before entering. This is, after all, Northern Italy, and they haven’t forgotten the very hard lessons from the record number of infections a few months ago.

 

What a difference a pandemic makes! May 2017 on the left; June three years later (2020) on the right.

Most places were open, although business was not always booming. We had dinner one night at a nice restaurant. They had no outdoor area, but we sat in front of large double doors that gave onto the street and the soft evening air… and we were the only ones in the place! It was empty when we arrived, and empty when we left. They may or may not have had more customers that night, but things are not easy for businesses in Italy now!


View along the Arno.

 

Us, also along the Arno,with Ponte Vecchio behind.


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The Drive


Seven hours to Lucca, Italy. That’s how long the drive was. I remember, back in the day, when we could do that before noon, and finish another seven before stopping for the night. But this is now, not then, and now those seven hours would be long. Still, in these COVID-ridden days, a private car seemed a better choice than public transport, especially flying! So we rented a car for a week, and drove.

 

We equipped ourselves with wipes, and rubber gloves ($0.12USD for a pair at the local pharmacy, now that the panic is over), and spent time with our newly-rented car wiping down door handles, steering wheel, shift lever, and, of course, the touch screen.

 

The drive was long, and expensive—the high-speed turnpikes here in Europe are not free—but we made it. I had plenty of time to mull over the difference between roads here and in the US during our drive. France has a very extensive, and very well maintained, road network that has been in place for decades—indeed, since well before the advent of the automobile.

 

The route--750 km one way. All those little yellow circles on the right show road work (i.e., closed tunnels)!


While we have very often enjoyed the beauty and tranquility of the French departemental roads, this time it was to be autoroute all the way, with frequent stops to pay the tolls. Still, these roads avoid the traffic mess that always accompanies large cities (here in Europe and elsewhere in the world!), so we were glad to exchange money for the time saved.

 

The road along the coast near the French-Italian boarder is really a wonder, passing through a very mountainous area. I remember being amazed by this road the first time I passed over it in the early 70s, as it went from bridge to tunnel to bridge to tunnel. Quite an engineering feat!

 

It still is, but words that come to mind describing the experience of driving it now are pĂ©nible, annoying, pain in the exhaust pipe. Particularly now when it seemed half the road was closed for roadwork. Road work? We saw miles of road with one lane blocked by traffic cones with nary a sign of workers nor equipment. And our thoughts were like, With this COVID thing, couldn’t they have finished this by now?


The tunnels, each with two lanes, come in pairs, one east-bound and one west-bound. At least half of these tunnels were closed, with all the traffic diverted into the remaining one, one lane in each direction, and the speed limit set down to 60KPH (35 MPH). At one point Paula joked that since we were only using half the road and going half the speed, we should only pay half the toll.

 

Come to think of it, she was only half joking!

 

Tunnels... 
(these photos are from Google Street View--I was NOT taking pictures while driving!)


The road still goes from bridge to tunnel, but I have a different perspective on that as a driver! Coming out of a dark tunnel, I would quickly drop my sunglasses in place to protect against the bright sun and catch a brief glimpse of steep green hills dotted with picturesque houses before plunging back into the next dark tunnel (flipping up the sunglasses!). And since many of these tunnels are very long and now many carry two-way traffic, it was like driving at night on a busy two-lane road with a constant onslaught of headlights.

 

But that was the easy part. Then we got to Genoa. Oh my!

 

Apparently the major traffic bridge collapsed here a year or so ago. Cars were crushed, people killed. That part is all gone now, but there is no replacement for the bridge yet. So the route goes through town, along the sea front and back up into the hills. There was little traffic, fortunately, because the roads were narrow, winding, and steep with hair-pin turns and many huge trucks. Finally, once out of the city, there were more tunnels. Oi vey! Not a drive I want to repeat.

 

Except, of course, we did, on the way back. Well, I figured, at least we’d get through Genoa while still fresh, instead of after 4 or 5 hours of driving. Yes, but… the road was still a mess. Somewhere past Genoa we were deep in a very long tunnel, at least a kilometre from daylight in each direction, moving in heavy two-way traffic, when we just… stopped. And sat. In the lugubrious darkness lit only by the weird yellow ceiling lights and the head and tail lights of the cars around us. After a very long time—ten or 15 minutes, perhaps—I began to have thoughts of how our desiccated bodies would be found, slumped in the seats, by rescuers coming along three or four weeks hence. Suddenly the van in front of us began to move! We drove in a stately (i.e., slow) but satisfying fashion for another while until, finally, there was a light up above, and we emerged into daylight! And then, plunged into another tunnel.

 

And soon after that, all signs of congestion were gone, and we were flying along at the usual 110 KPH. Go figure…

 

By the numbers:  We spent $160USD on tolls for the 960-mile round trip, and $103USD on fuel. (Diesel, gazole, is about $5.50 per gallon, but the car got 52MPG; we paid just short of 11 cents US per mile). Renting the car for a week cost $200USD, for a total cost of $460USD and two days of driving…

                 Lodging was a very reasonable $400 for the week, in these discounted times (not a lot of people traveling these days!)

 

 

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What’s coming up in the next blog? Lucca! We spent a couple of nights in this slow-paced but very Italian town. And then, we head back to France to see what's happening in the lavender fields.