It was 2:30pm, my stomach was rumbling and the heat of anger was building between my ears. Remi had an idea in his head and he wasn’t going to stop for our picnic until he had made it a reality. I tried to bite back my bitterness at the thought of the near empty beaches we had passed along the way at Sausset-les-Pins and even a rocky crique at Carry-le-Rouet with a direct view on the sea where the dogs would have been welcome too. On we drove beyond beach shacks crowded with laughing diners on their second bottle of rosé and relaxed bronzed beauties languorously rearranging their limbs.
I crossed my legs for the tenth time, trying to shake the spiders out of my veins and worried as the dogs shuffled with longing in the back. “Ok, ok just this last try. I know what I am looking for exists,” Remi insisted and it made me furious. “A bit of land with a view above the sea? All to ourselves? On a Sunday in high season?” I responded silently for the sarcasm was rising fast, I could see that there were no roads for where he wanted to go, we had been turned back at dead ends too many times…And then he found it.
The unmarked path rose sharply, dissembled into dirt and opened onto an enclosure…
…where two empty picnic tables were waiting, not a person in sight…
…with a view over the sea and…
…Ben! Get out of the photo!…
…the shade of pines to swish with the crash of the waves into a patch of peace.
Immediately, the goods were laid out. Paté, jambon, beurre, cornichons, brie. The simpler our picnics become, the more I enjoy them.
I kicked off my shoes under the table…
…where several beggars slyly surveyed our every move until…
…with a sigh Remi and I laid back on our respective benches, looking up at the flickering sun until sleep claimed us all.
We woke refreshed, not having been disturbed in the least during our sieste. I couldn’t help but think of the crowds we had left behind in Arles. And of all the times during our travels when Remi would declare, camera at the ready, “I just need a man to walk across in front of the monument/church/mosque/temple now,” and…he would.
But, as glorious as this is, others are more fortunate than we. Several small cabanons are perched at the cliff’s summit, including this petit bijou…
…that looked out on to quite a view.
We took the dirt path to its end and clambered up to the top of a winding crest. All of Marseille was waiting to greet us.
It was quite something to behold.
Scrub-like maquis that are surprisingly similar to the land of our nearby Alpilles, did a dip drop directly into the Big Blue.
“Ici, ça s’appelle La Côte Bleue.” We were corrected by a fit gentleman who paused to pet the puppers while out for his daily walk through the hills. His smile widened as he added with a wink, “C’est la Riviera pour les pauvres.” And yet we certainly didn’t feel so poor at the moment, on the contrary, quite rich with the giddy surprise to have found a spot guaranteed to set the dream motors running after eight years of living so close and yet so far.
Perhaps this panoramic stretch had been surpassed by the more scenic calanques further east? Or is it just a carefully guarded secret?
It was bumpy breaking back into the bustle below.
So I thought of the man striding the hills above us as we turned the car back towards Arles. How he must be breathing in the salt, the wind whipping his cap, no sound but the distant sea between his ears like a cupped shell. I turned over my shoulder and took a grateful glance to the Mediterranean as we turned inland, knowing that when the moment is right, I will be more patient. It will be worth all the time in the world to sail into La Côte Bleu once more…
Dear Heather, Loved everythig, the photographs, the written words but most of all the puppers on top of your tennis shoes, making sure that you won't leave them behind… wich of course, you would never do. ox, Gina
So beautiful. It looks like a well-kept secret. I love little spots like that, with no one else in sight. They are the best.
wow. beautiful, bleu, breezy & private. that lunch looks great. the dogs are adorable.
Beautiful views. Thanks for sharing. I will have to look for this spot next time I am in Provence, though our town, Tarascon, is itself an undiscovered secret and misses the crazy tourist traffic of the summer…for now at least…
What did we bring for the dogs at the picnic?
I know this sort of beauty only through your posts. Is that totally sad!?
Also:
'I know what I am looking for exists'
Huge fan of this posture.
One thing I love about that coast are the pinedes mixed with the sea air. La cote pour les pauvres? Ha! Much better than the east side IMHO but I do wonder how much longer it will last? I would get a cabanon soon because with that view it might end up costing a small fortune soon!
What a great story…and such gorgeous photos! Thanks for sharing with us!
Stunning Heather. How rich you are, indeed. It's rainy here today and I'm wishing I could transport myself into one of your heavenly photos! XO
Heather, I was with you on this little day trip. Ahhh, yes, Remi is always right, isn't he? Let the spirit be your guide, wander around everywhere, leave not a stone unturned, and beautiful surprises will find you. What a wonderful story, my love.