Oils and Pastels by Margaret Dyer

We had a leisurely morning but wanted to have one more experience before we took our 6 hour trip back to Fountain-Fourches tomorrow morning. After lunch in a sweet little restaurant a few blocks away from our gite, we drove to Gordes , classified as one of France's most beautiful villages. The site dates back to the Neolithic era. Its Rennaissance chateau was rebuilt on the site of a 12th century fortress. We did the usual...climbed stone stairs through twisting narrow streets under vaulted passageways, slipping into boutiques. We did visit a church however, surprisingly the only one on this trip. It was unusually decorated with vivid hand-painted patterns on every possible space, with seemingly no attempt to coordinate color or pattern, like someone went nuts with wallpaper. It was an unexpected surprise. Our last expedition: find a lavender field for Alice. We found one after winding around the mountains for a half hour, piled out of the car and took some selfies, and piled back ...

After drying off from our swim in the Mediterranean we drove the scenic route to La Cadiere d'Azure, yet another medieval town high on a mountaintop. It was getting late in the afternoon; we had lunch, roamed the winding narrow streets--dodging cars, poked our heads into sweet little artisans' shops, took pictures of breathtaking views, and turned around for the hour and a half drive back to the gite in Mazan. We were tired. A light dinner awaited. I headed to bed right afterwards but heard Kippy, Kate and Alice in heated conversation until the world became quiet. Posted with Blogsy

Did I say a small fishing village? That's what Rick Steves said. Turns out Cassis is a thriving resort with cafés, bistros, shopping, fine dining, incredible turquoise water, cold and wavy. It's been years since I've put on a bathing suit in public, but nothing was going to stop me from swimming in the Mediterranean. Initially freezing, once I was completely submerged it was glorious. The heavy salt content keeps you afloat so you don't even need to tread water. We could have bobbed around in the waves forever, surrounded by cliffs and terra cotta roofed houses. Only one thing I could have done without...no sand to speak of on the beach. It's all pebbles, which hurt. Especially going into and out of the water. But so worth it. We had seafood lunches at an outdoor table with a beautiful rose wine, went back to the beach for one last dip, and headed out for one more location, stopping en route to snap pictures of the incredible countryside. Jerome always takes the s...

TUESDAY Oh no! It's almost over! Ellen left today for Dallas. Kippy and I took her to the train station in Avignon, a half hour away. She was to catch the bullet train; a ride which would get her to the airport in 3 hours. It would have taken 6 hours by car. Ellen was a little frantic, as I would have been, because we were cutting it kind of close and directions were confusing. She was concerned about finding the train, her seat, not being able to speak French, pulling her heavy luggage onto the train. "Don't worry," Kippy assured her, "I'll get you to your seat." We parked in the temporary parking space on the curb, Kippy pocketed her keys and we pulled the heavy luggage to the train platform. Within minutes the bullet train sped silently into the station. I stood back on the platform, watched as the passengers (with Ellen and Kippy) jostled to get onto the train, and waited for Kippy to reemerge. When the door closed and the train slowly started to mo...

  Early Monday we loaded up into two vehicles and drove to Arles with our pastel boxes and drawing boards. We were going to paint where Van Gogh painted. With limited time several of us stopped at the closest of the few remaining spots still surviving intact, the old Hospital of Arles. While Van Gogh was hospitalized there, he painted its courtyard garden (that's his painting pictured here, not mine), framed on all four sides by bright yellow arches. I finished quickly (or got disgusted with my painting) and left to search out the Cafe Noir, the yellow cafe which Van Gogh painted on a starry night, while Michelle, Jane, Mimi and Ellen continued painting the courtyard. Being directionally handicapped, as I discovered many of my artist friends are, and with map in hand, I wandered hopelessly through the crooked streets and instead happened happily upon the Van Gogh Foundation, which housed several of his pieces I was thrilled to see. Time running out, I hurried to a cafe, scarfed do...