Roussillon and the Painter's Palette

Not one to be organized or do things in a logical order, I've decided to take a detour on my trip review by hopping down to Roussillon! My decision in part was made because I spent a lot of time this past weekend trying to select ONE photo out of over 4,000 to turn into a canvas print. I had some credit at Zazzle that was burning a whole in my pocket and when a 65% discount was offered, I was on it!
This scene, a shot taken in Roussillon, won out. The colors, the mural and these two little girls -- I think I can live with them on my wall for quite awhile.
So, with Roussillon on my mind, I wanted to take you there, too.

Roussillon is one of those places that you really need a car to visit. It's a hilltop town in the Little Luberon mountain region in Provence. Just an hour's drive from Avignon, it's a place to put on your "Let's Visit" list.

Yes, it's very touristy. But you'll love being a tourist there.

 You'll love just "being."

Walking the winding streets.

Following the maze of cobblestones.

Drinking in the colors. Checking out the doors.

Taking in the vistas and views.

Craning your neck over rooftops!

Roussillon's claim to fame is that during the turn of the century, it was basically the world's supplier for ochre used in paint! Today the remaining ochre deposits are preserved and conserved as part of their history, making Roussillon itself a museum of sorts.

Roussillon is so artsy, even the trash cans are pretty.

This restaurant, La Treille, gets fairly good reviews on Trip Advisor, but several folks appraise it as being expensive. We didn't eat there. I was interested in the huge vine out front which I thought was wisteria. However, the small gray sign hanging on it explains that it is a grape vine and, forgive my memory lapse, but I believe the sign says it was planted there more than 160 years ago! 

We didn't do anything in particular in Roussillon. 

We watched a guy makes crepes.
We visited a souvenir shop with olive oils and admired displays in the art galleries.
We engaged in a photo shooting war.

And we went to the cemetery.

The Hubby was quite uncomfortable with me taking photos in a cemetery and he let me know that more than once. And more than once, I ignored him:) Here I was living the fulfillment of a 10-year-dream. I thought the cemetery was the perfect place to contemplate and appreciate my blessings and put everything in perspective. Besides, I learned something. The French do death better.

Yes, there were some real flowers and some plastic ones, but for the most part, the French decorate their graves with gorgeous pottery pieces and granite plaques customized with messages from loved ones. Some even had photos of the deceased protected under plexiglass. Walking around the graves, it wasn't just reading names and dates of birth and death. I felt like I really got a look into someone's live, a real person who would never be forgotten.

This gravesite was most intriguing. No crosses, granite plaques or ceramic tokens. Just this headstone with a very Egyptian-looking jackal motif.

While searching online for any information about Monsieur Jacquest Talbotier, I learned about Roussillon's most famous resident. You see, the only reference I could find to Mr. Talboiter is a citation as the author of "L'Ocre et Roussillon," a book listed in the bibliography of another book about Samuel Beckett. Yes, the famous author/playwright (Waiting for Godot) lived in Roussillon for two years.

Wiki says:

Beckett joined the French Resistance after the 1940 occupation by Germany, in which he worked as a courier. On several occasions over the next two years he was nearly caught by the Gestapo. In August 1942, his unit was betrayed and he and Suzanne fled south on foot to the safety of the small village of Roussillon, in the Vaucluse département in Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur. There he continued to assist the Resistance by storing armaments in the back yard of his home. During the two years that Beckett stayed in Roussillon he indirectly helped the Maquis sabotage the German army in the Vaucluse mountains, though he rarely spoke about his wartime work in later life.

Another advantage to trekking out to the cemetery: it has unforgettable views of the village! This photo may give you the impression that the cemetery is miles away from the town, but it's not. It's easy to do by foot. Go past the gelato stand and the fella making crepes. Check out the vista turnout and the sun dial. Follow the signs toward the Ochre Mining Museum and just keep going up the road.

The view will take your breath away!

Mes amies, this week I absolutely have to get the rest of my "junque" transported to the antique mall space I previously blogged about. I've already taken a couple of car loads, but I've got more, not to mention thousands of post cards to price:) So this is likely the only blog post I'll do this week. HOWEVER, please stop by anyway because I'll be sharing some fun pics via Facebook at the top of my blog. You don't have to have a Facebook account to be able to see the pics, click on em and vicariously travel. These are what I call 'stand alone' photos. Just interesting tidbits and pretties -- everything from Goliath's foot to picnicking with sheep.

Padlocks and Paris

There is a fad among lovers that is going around the world. From Tokyo to Budapest, couples loop a lock with their initials written on it onto a bridge and throw away the key.

Ah, if eternal love could be so simple and so assured ...

Perhaps you've heard about it or maybe you read this article last year in the New York Times. I learned about the fad through Eric at Paris Daily Photo, so I wasn't surprised when I saw a bridge of locks on the other side of the Louvre, but it was indeed a sight to behold! The one photo I took in Paris of the Pont des Arts is a very meager representation of what is going on.

Apparently the Pont de l'Archevêché, in front of Notre Dame, was the first bridge where this craze began. Do a 'google' search for images and you'll see how some sections of the bridge are jam packed with locks!

Just for the record, many Parisians don't like it!

I railed against the temporary buildings in front of Notre Dame in yesterday's post as being ugly and I'm sure the same can be said of these locks. But ... I did find them interesting to photograph. 

I couldn't take more pictures of the Paris locks because The Hubby was casting looks my way that said he was antsy to move on. Since he and I have never done this eternal love lock thing -- we just exchanged promises in front of a judge wearing Birkenstocks -- I knew I didn't want to jeopardize my marriage:)

Besides, I had already taken several photos of the locks in Venice!

It looks to me like the Italians wised up and are actually accommodating lovers with special rails to hang their locks from! I see an advantage two-fold:
1) Venice's 'romantic' score rises like its flood waters
and
2) The actual bridge wood work and hand rails are kept safe from vandalism.

 

My favorite pic is this one: the bright red heart-shaped lock. It reminds me of that famous song "I left my heart padlock in San Francisco.":)

All I have to say is, if given a choice between this silly lock fad and the old-fashioned custom of locking lips, I'll take the latter!

The Elephant and Notre Dame

We arrived in Paris at Gare de Lyon via the TGV from Avignon. Our hotel, Jules Cesar, was a few blocks away. By the time we got checked in and were ready to head out, it was around 5:30 in the afternoon. The temperature high that day was 50 degrees, so by 5 p.m., as you can imagine, the temp was dropping. It would drop to freezing before the night was over.

BUT as you can see in the pic above, we did have clear, blue, brilliant skies!

Now, before I left on my trip, I had posted on Rick Steve's travel site asking for 'must do and see' advice. One lady said she loved simply walking the streets of Île Saint-Louis and getting a scoop of the world-famous ice cream at Berthillon's. Also, I am reading my way through the Cara Black mystery books, each one set in a different Paris arrondissement and featuring a young female detective who lives in a 17th-century apartment on Ile Saint-Louis. 
And, as if I needed any more encouragement, here's how Wiki describes le petit island: "formerly used for the grazing of market cattle and stocking wood. ...  A peaceful oasis of calm in the busy Paris centre, this island has only narrow one-way streets, no métro stations and two bus stops. Most of the island is residential, but there are several restaurants, shops, cafés and ice cream parlours at street level, as well as one large church, Saint-Louis-en-l'Île Church."
So, it was only natural that when we left our hotel, we took out walking toward Île Saint-Louis. 

As chance would have it, we walked past Saint-Louis-en-l'Île Church exactly as the bell tower was chiming 6 o'clock. It was a serendipitous moment for me. I may not have had a clear view of the church, under the restoration/construction netting, but I experienced it loud and clear!:)

Here's a better pic of the church tower:

It was a delight to just walk and ramble, window shopping and watching Parisians wrap up a busy day: picking up their sons at the boys school, meeting friends after work at one of the cafes .... And yes, we did see the famous Berthillon's and yes, it was tempting un peu but not enough. I prefer my ice cream on hot summer days.

Then, we crossed over to Île de la Cité. I was eager for my husband to see Notre Dame and the 'center of the Universe' as I like to call it: the Point Zero marker from which all the mileage posts are counted on French highways. 

Fortunately, others have taken pics of the marker. 

I don't have one to show you. 

I couldn't take one. 

I was in shock.

Smack dab in front of Notre Dame was a huge set of bleachers!
I was aghast!
My mind was reeling from what I was seeing.
I associate bleachers with football stadiums, not churches.
I couldn't understand it.
Were the bleachers there simply to afford folks a higher advantage point for photos?
Nah, you gotta be kidding? Perhaps something temporary for an Easter service?
I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, only to walk around the bleachers and almost have a seizure.
It was worse!

http://www.francebleu.fr/patrimoine/eglise/notre-dame-de-paris-fete-ses-850-ans-183781

There was this whole long, strung out monstrosity of makeshift buildings.

Buildings that had NOTHING in common with the design of Notre Dame.

OK, I don't have a degree in city planning, architecture or art.
Heck, I'm not even religious.
By the time we got to Paris, after having traveled from the southern Spain to Venice to Provence, the hubby and I were pretty churched out.
The pagans tortured the Catholics. The Catholics tortured the Protestants. So much killing and persecution in the name of God. It's a bit of a turn off:)
Nonetheless, I'm here to say that every bit of my agnostic sensibilities screamed that what I was seeing in front of Notre Dame was and is the UGLIEST desecration of a historical-pagan-holy-Christian site.

I wanted to cry.

What I find even more amazing is that after an extensive search online, I can't find anyone who dares say anything about it. It's like the elephant in the room that everyone refuses to acknowledge.

Website after website explains that the buildings are there to mark the 850th birthday of Notre Dame and apparently a trek inside through the ramps, passages and buildings are supposed to mimic a pilgrimage of some sort.

No one says the obvious: it's UGLY. It's terrible design.

I confess I was so turned off by it that I didn't go inside to see the displays or try to assuage my prejudices.

I've only one thing to add: Thank God it's temporary.

Any great work of art needs blank space around it to show it off.
Here's what Notre Dame is SUPPOSED to look like:

MIA: What I've Been Up To

It doesn't look like much ...

But Space No. 19 is soon to be "FrenchKissed."

I'm really excited about being part of a "new" antiques mall that has opened up in Vancouver, Washington  [also known as Portland, Oregon's suburb!]

If you're going antique-hopping this summer in the northwest U.S., I hope you'll stop by.

I've fried several brain cells (that I really couldn't afford to lose) coming up with ways to display postcards. I'm determined not to just have shoeboxes of postcards. To begin with, I'm working on a June Bride display.

However, I still hope to get back on track and share with you more pics of my Paris trip. Thanks for your patience!

Red Tape Affair

One of my 'complaints' about photo-taking in Paris is the dearth of construction and repairs going on. Scaffolds, gates, iron nets, barricades, fences, cranes -- and noise! Below is the entry to the Paris Opera House, now called the Palais Garnier. Quelle dommage! (What a shame!)

But as with all things, there are exceptions. There was one place where I found the red-tape, roped-off repairs to be very ... intriguing!

I kept studying the, uh, situation to ascertain the best framing of my subject. I bided my time as tourists came and went.

I had to carefully scope out the scene to find the best angle to use.

Then the lady in the red jacket and red boots came by! What perfect color coordination with the red tape! She was the perfect accent I needed for my memorable shot.

Funny, though, I can't recall what his face looked like ...

Mes amies, The Hubby and I started spring cleaning yesterday and re-arranging furniture. My body feels like it has been beaten with a bat:) So I knew I couldn't deliver much in the way of an informative travel blog today. However, I hope my brief post cracks you up a little and ends your Monday with a smile. 
A bientot!