La Tuilerie

As gîtes or vacation rentals are most often let from Saturday to Saturday, Remi and I knew we had to find another alternative for our first evening in the Luberon, a Friday. Although I played with the idea of sleeping over in Loumarin, because I do love it for all of its cheesy charm and also as I had stumbled upon this rather amazing looking B&B, finally we decided that we just wanted to be close to our rental in Simiane-la-Rotonde to make the most of our Saturday.

As we were really rather desperate for quiet, I chose La Tuilerie, a renovated 18th century farmhouse situated on 4 hectares that was promised to be “encore très sauvage“. Ah, the country. Yes, please. 

Our room was rather quirky, as it was practically underground in a vaulted room that did, nonetheless, let in a bevy of sunshine. The furniture, including an iron daybed, was comfortable and perfect for the space. *Note in the photo: on the table, the necessities of life, wine and coffee. Need I say more?*
 
The only hic? As it had been mentioned, the spacious and well-appointed bath was just next door but one is obliged to step just outside to reach it. While I frankly can’t imagine this scenario in winter, it did provide an opportunity to view an over-tipped bucket of stars in the middle of the night…
But I am getting ahead of myself. For the evening that we spent was just this side of wonderful. We were very late in arriving, business having grasped us in its claws until we beat it back with a stick! Perhaps it is our survival skills from some of our more exotic travels but we knew that it would probably be best to pick up something, anything for dinner as we didn’t know what we would find in the area that would still be open after 9pm. So I did a mad dash through a SuperU while Remi and our dear dog Ben waited in the car and was wildly proud of myself for picking up a roasted chicken, potatoes, and cheese all in about ten minutes flat (trust me, I had already packed the wine and an apéro as any self-respecting expat would). Once settled, we made good use of the rustic (and I do mean rustic) communal kitchen space, grabbed a candelabra, lit the candles and had the most leisurely dinner under a giant old oak tree as we gradually and giddily remembered what silence was. Gorgeous.
True to its name, the property is topped with terra-cotta tiles that bounce off the light as we discovered the next morning after sleeping…are you ready for it? Twelve hours! Thank goodness the owner was so welcoming and not only just let us be but insisted we take our time for breakfasting under the afore-mentioned wise oak.

As it was still piping hot, the pool overlooking a valley of vineyards and lavender did beckon but it was time to move on to our charming cabanon.
But as you can see, there were some seriously happy customers! At 50€ the night, I thought it a fitting price for an authentic farmhouse environment. As the website promises, there is also a larger apartment with a full kitchen that looked adorable. All three rentals have semi-private terraces.
La Tuilerie 
In the Hameau of Dauban
04150 Banon
Tel.: +33 (0)4 92 73 32 75 
Thank you everyone for your wonderful responses for my last post. I promise to tell you more about that amazing area but thought that you might like a last minute getaway idea for this Friday evening!
Have a wonderful, wonderful weekend…

Written in ochre

October is written in orange, scrawled loopily with a fat crayon. This much we know and I have the photos to prove it. But not the golden glow of Jack O’Lanterns grinning in the night but the warm rust of ochre warming my fingertips, a lasting stain and bright. 

Millions of years ago, my part of the world, Provence, was just one long sad sea. When the continents leaned into one another, conspiratorially, limestone and sandstone built up over time, leaving us with the surprise of ochre.

Ochre has been mined for pigments since the dawn of humanity. It traces out the animals dancing across the caves of Lascaux, the Egyptians dabbed it tenderly across their lips and cheeks…

Such earth equalled wealth for those who mined it and such was the family practice along a certain stretch of the Luberon for over one hundred years. And while the natural has long been supplanted by the synthetic, the land here is still thriving.

It seems to me to be that now is a month of abundance, despite an/our American predilection for Thanksgiving in November. And the varying terrain along these former ochre mines is rife…with life.

So lets hear it for the shift and sway of earth giving us the goods over and over.

Let us use them wisely. 

For we are indeed rich, when we take in all that we have. Around us and in who we are.

I know, I know how often I say that but right now, as we dive towards the winter sleep on this top of the planet while friends are awakening to spring below on the other, it bares repeating. 

Listen to the scribble of the undertow.

What is in your heart during this month? 
What are you hoping for that lies ahead?

It is October, a perfect time to do a bit of (gentle!) digging…
…is there anything just below the surface that is calling for attention?

…for while we all learn our lessons and endure our scars…
 …all the more reason to welcome a whopping batch of joy when that is what life throws us, to roll around in it gleefully, creating moments to carry us through the months ahead…
For yes, our lives are inscribed indelibly in a lasting ochre. Let us try to write it well.

Today’s post is my October contribution to the “By Invitation Only” series. To see what the talented bloggers from the around the world have concocted for “Thoughts on October” please visit Splenderosa here.
Wishing you all a wonderful month ahead…

Vive les Frenchies!

Aren’t they adorable? I was out taking photos for what may or may not be tomorrow’s post when the charming young lady on the left approached me on the Place de la Republique. “May I offer you a Coca-Cola light?” she asked with that cute little grin. Wait, what? A stranger talking to me? And offering me something for free? I started to wonder if I had somehow slipped into a different time/space convergence but…she was wearing a beret, a t-shirt marinière and ballet flats, the “Coca” can was designed by Jean-Paul Gaultier…this must be France! Heck, I don’t even drink soda but when her charming partner got in the act, how could I say no?
À demain mes chers amis…

In love with a little village, part two

Although I prepared these photos days ago, I have been regarding them carefully one a time for a while, letting the sun outside my window bow into itself, just as it did while I had taken them.
You see, I have been out of sorts all day. A silly thing, really. Remi is up in Paris on business and I couldn’t sleep at all without the reassurance of his presence. The rise and fall of his breathing at my side. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time, that sneaking fear winning me over but there I was, rising in the night, wandering through the rooms, checking the locks, searching up for stars. My own private ghost. 
And so I have been trying to will myself back to Simiane la Rotonde, merely by the looking. I was so touched by the response to my previous post. Quite a few like minded souls pecking around this ephemeral pond. And Simiane is indeed as joy-inducing as my little clickety-clacks can suggest. But would we live there year ’round? Well, it isn’t an option for the moment but my how it caught our breath. And we all know, those moments that tug at your heart strings are something to listen to…

One of the men that we spoke to–my, they speak slowly in Simiane–said that tourists don’t often bother with this “village de caractère” because it is not directly on the road. Peu importe, if it is only two minutes away. Well, tant mieux. For the rest of us. 
I have many more villages to share with you. Really, prepared to be tired of them, I certainly was! But there was no place that called like Simiane, with its odd 12th century rotunda and equally odd oddness. Something tells me you won’t be surprised when I let drop like a bead in the pond that we hope to go back before the end of the year…Let’s hear it for dreams! The good ones that shake away the shadows of the longest sleepless nights…

Speaking of something to listen to, my honey is about to board his TGV and should be home just after midnight. 

Sweetheart, this song, “I found you” is by The Alabama Shakes and although I don’t know who found who, this is for you…

Have a wonderful weekend everyone, full of lots of dreams, yes, the good kind!

In love with a little village

Falling in love can be so easy, can’t it?
Sometimes you just know. I had a hunch from the first moment that the village of Simiane la Rotonde would be the real thing and my instinct didn’t let me down. 
Patina, time pushing up against each other at odd angles and solitude. Simiane checks the boxes of more than a few of my favorite things. Remi and I eventually stopped talking as we wound our way up and around, delighting in suspended gardens and ornate gates leading to forgotten bastides.

A bird is free now to make his nest in the curlicues of a Renaissance manor but Simiane was once quite wealthy, quite populated. While 1,157 people strolled its cobble stone streets in 1753, there are 30-70 residents living in the village year-round, depending on who you ask.

The 16th century covered market hall opens out onto the lavender fields below and is a simple token of the village’s more glorious past.
But touches of gentility remain…
I’ll be quiet now and let you wander…
…take your time…
…because as Diana Vreeland so wisely commanded “The eye must travel”…
But what, you might ask, is that large sugar lump of stone? More of that in the next post…for there is still much to share…
When we fall in love it is hard not to be exuberant, n’est-ce pas? 

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