I am finally back from Montpellier where Les and I stayed in a 16th century villa at a high school friend's of Les's. As you can imagine, internet was at a premium, so I couldn't exactly stay in touch. We had an eventful 3 days, driving four hours to Montpellier, with a quick side trip to see Van Gogh's yellow cafe in Arles. Of course,  we also saw Christian La Croix at a fete in Arles. Nothing in France but celebs. We are still waiting to run into the twins in Nice. Arles was old--what can I say. When we got to Doug's, the ami of Les, we were basically in the middle of nowhere. After swatting 40 flies, playing with the dog and the horse, and making up my bed in the trailer, I drank a lot of wine, and embraced the whole scenario. Of course, I am at my best when posting the "Do not disturb" sign at a Hilton, but...when in France..... We visited Montpellier, which is a beautiful city with an even more beautiful beach, Nimes-- a Roman city with wonderful water viaducts from Roman times, a few hilltop towns which were medieval and simply perfect, and drank copious amount of wine from the Langedouc region of France.

We left Doug's chateau after 3 nights of being Trailer Trash, and started our journey back to Nice. It took 14 hours with many stops along the way. First we went to a medieval village for fresh bread, almond croissants and wonderful caffe au lait. The baguette was the best ever. Then on to Avignon, where I sang the ditty "Sur la pont, d'Avignon" in full voice, much to Les's chagrin. Avignon is beautiful and is the Pope's summer residence. Make that was. We spent an hour and a half in Avignon, the start of the Provence region. We drove through fields of lavender and fields of sunflowers and were overcome by the scenery.

We ended up in the Luberon region, where village after village charmed us with their regional delights. Nougat in Apt, reknown for the regional candy, Sante Fe red Rousillon, which shines brilliant crimson from the highway, Gordes perched on the mountain where the beautiful people have refurbished this once ghost town, L'Isles -de la Sorgue which has water wheels and water running throughout the city, and Moustiers-St. Marie, where the church was carved out of the rock at the top of a mountain, with the star hung in the clouds. 

On our way home, we winded our way through the Grand Canyon of France. I was absolutely terrified of the sheers drops and the horrible road. We drove at a snail's pace through the curves and crevices of the region. Les wanted to punt me down a gorge, but I wouldn't let him.

We are now sitting on our French balcony in Nice, sipping French wine, serving French food and basically, we are now French and with the warm weather, French fried. Hope you are all well. Wish you could all be here.

Amour,

Patty and Les