Charming cabanon rental in the Luberon

When my wonderful companion, Remi, first came up with the idea to escape the noise of the Feria or Harvest Bullfights in Arles by going away, I responded with an immediate and emphatic “Yeessss“. It was the best idea I had ever heard! While our friends had been dashing off to the beach or the mountains all summer long, Remi was working and working hard. We were city-bound, without the lazy glamour of being able to dive into air-conditioned multiplexes and echoing museums mid-afternoon. So when it was time to decide on a destination, we approached our search with the tenacity of France’s rugby team preparing to head off against New Zealand.

We knew one thing and one thing only. We were both in serious need of Quiet. Yes, the capital Q kind. And as the beginning of September is still considered high season in many parts of Southern France, we had budget considerations to keep in mind as well. Of course I took my hunt very seriously.  Hello? I am a travel writer! It is my job to sniff out the overlooked, the undiscovered but fabulous. So I spent days and I do mean days trawling every website imaginable. Until one evening, without saying anything to me, Remi popped online. Ten minutes later, pas plus, he casually tossed me a line, “Hey, what about this?”

“This” was a cabanon in the Northern Luberon, the anti-bling non-Maylesy kind that ne’er a tour bus does see. The wee abode is on the edge of a lavender field and yes, they accept dogs, yes, there was availability for that week, no there wasn’t plastic garden chairs used as the living room furniture and for…300€ per week (that is $388 USD, 239 British Pounds). Done. So beyond done.
The owners, Eric and Sabine, were away on a little vacation of their own and so we were met and welcomed by Sabine’s parents both of whom are from the area since generations. It says a lot about the people of the region that Sabine and Eric were trusting enough for us to be les maitres du domaine in their absence. But it was still with trepidation that I entered the cabanon–would it be all that I hoped? 
I was not disappointed. 
The snug living area had all that we needed and then some. A futon sofa that was so comfortable that it soon became the most sought after spot for la sieste (yes, even more so than the deck chairs), not to mention an authentic Provençal dining set as well as a box of movies next to the television that was exactly to Remi’s taste…
Up a short flight of stairs to the cozy bedroom. Sabine’s Mom proudly showed me the magnetic blinds she had made to block out the ever-present sunlight for those that didn’t want to rise with the dawn. Um yes, that would be us, merci
Back down to le salon and down a bit more to the fully stocked and I do mean fully stocked kitchen. I have to admit, this was one of the key factors that had sold me on the cabanon as how very, very rare  that is. There was even un panier of left behind items–a box of spaghetti, coffee filters and the like–for the just in case. A touch which is completely in line with the beautifully thought out details of the renovation of what was once the family farm’s four à pain or bakery. When I later learned that Eric is an interior architect, I was hardly surprised. I loved how he recuperated and integrated materials from the existing structure, such as the beams and shelves just over Ben’s head below, not to mention that the sand-based lime-wash on the walls was one of the best executed I have seen, which for Provence, is saying something. Truly, a really lovely renovation that makes the best of what is and what was.

Beyond the kitchen is a small but entirely serviceable bath (and positively enormous compared to the “pirouette in place” shower that we have at home). Need I mention that everything was spotlessly and I do mean spotlessly clean?
It was no wonder at all that soon we felt right at home.

There are several outdoor spaces to explore. Just behind the kitchen is a walled in garden with a table set towards the sun…

…one which joins a private loggia installed with a banquette, another dining table and the absolutely crucial BBQ (more about that to come). A ps. to my design friends, please take a look at the gorgeously set roof tiles…

It is such a lovely area that it is also a preferred choice of certain other visitors…I warned you that this is the country!

Yes, there are cats and dogs and chickens but that is all part of the experience. Here, you are not isolated on the edge of the world but a part of something authentic even if the design is authentic! When Eric and Sabine returned, along with their toddler twins, they were not only extremely charming hosts but discreet ones as well.
The cabanon is exactly what it claims to be, a wonderfully comfortable stone cabin, at only 30 square meters large. But we honestly felt like we didn’t need anything more.
And most importantly, we felt entirely bienvenue.

Le cabanon de Bourinet
Simiane la Rotonde
Contact: Sabine Reynard (she speaks as she calls it “schoolgirl English” but it is enough to make a reservation, by email is probably best)
Tel.: +33 (0) 4 92 75 91 39
One final aspect worth noting, the cabanon goes up to 350€ in the peak of high season, which remains an extremely reasonable price and one in accordance with the farm setting. I only ask that you don’t book the cabanon during the week of the lavender harvest because we plan on going back!
Happy trails…

The Quiet

It didn’t take long for me to find my place. 
On a slight rise above the cabanon that we had rented, a creaky deck chair was waiting for me, slung low across a wooden platform and encircled by a shin high stone wall. 

From my post, I could look out over the lavender fields. Flowerless, yes but lined with organized stripes that calmed my mind with the efficiency of a Japanese garden. In the mornings, I could do my yoga then sit in meditation afterwards, imprinting such a view through barely open eyes.
I had instinctively turned away from the swing of the hammocks, not wanting to be enveloped in a cocoon but preferring to be exposed. So grateful to be in the open air, under the sun until it threatened to burn, letting the breezes turn my novel’s pages for me and string the wisps of my hair into the corners of my eyes, my mouth.
I wore the quiet lightly on my shoulders at first. As the days passed, it began to sink below my skin until it became something of an embrace. 
A grownup gray grasshopper stretched out his violin legs and I could hear their scratch.

The clouds rattled with the youthful brio of kids pulling strings of tin cans in a race across the sky while the earth below my seat would shift with a sigh of oh so old. 
It was the opposite of silence, this implosion of life. From my place, where I was supposed to be, I took it all in and now keep the quiet in a jewel box just below my heart. 

Floating in the in-between

I am back in Arles. Or at least partially. Part of my heart is still in the northern Luberon, beating slowly all while my ears are pricked to the street noise below. It is that same wagging tail as when we had a picnic in the graced shade of Notre Dame des Anges our first full day out. Pulling myself to relax, to listen while my pulse thumped. Back and forth, back and forth. Half in the moment, half out. 
Luckily wisdom won. Or something older than wisdom, if that exists. For I did stop thinking, thinking although it took some time. So the past ten days are a bit of a blur for me really. But I was clicking, clicking non-stop. The better to see you with my dear. I am looking forward to sharing it, just as soon as my feet touch earth. 

I hope that you will pardon the hiiighly sentimental tone of my voice but it will give you a clear as a cow bell  tone for the dreamy world I was in.

And lest you (or I) forget, thank you for being here…

After the Fall

Hello there friends. I am sitting face turned towards the sun in a walled in garden just beyond the lavender fields. Their bouquets have been shorn but the bees still buzz about searching for that last dose of sweetness. So far away from tout and time but yet still vulnerable to the fist of news coming towards me through my little iphone when the signal permits.

Somehow these photos of the chapel at Vernegues, felled in the earthquake of 1903, seem appropriate for some of the thoughts rolling through my head, my heart this week with the 9/11 anniversary and the frightening upheaval over a film that is not ours but now will be. What traces remain after the fall? Where do we go during the aftershocks that are sure to follow?

I certainly have no answers in my far away garden other than to turn away from hatred. Hope rustles in the trees and I am listening.

We are most likely going to stay a bit longer in this idyllic corner of the Luberon and so I will be back to my regular posting at some point next week. Soaking up the beauty around me like a sponge and wishing for you the same during the weekend ahead!

Tiepolo Skies

Off and dreaming, nothing scheming, just a sip of fresher air and a brand new view. 
Oh yes indeedy, we are escaping for a whole week to the country. As we have been city-bound the entire summer, it is beyond due for both of us. Not to mention Ben! His bones are packed as are my books. For there is nothing on the schedule besides relaxing. 
And for the first time in nearly two years, I am flirting with the idea of taking a break from the blog while I am gone. Even though I have posts lined up like smart soldiers, I think it might do me a bit of good to just trust that you all will be here when I get back, although I will definitely stop by to say bonjour if the silence is too laden or the crickets too creaky! 
So, for now, I will leave you with these Tiepolo skies and wishes of the joy and peace that they invoke in me…

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!


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