Aix-en-Provence
When I got to Aix it was a little sprinkly (it was actually raining for most of my journey but it didn’t bother me too much) so I decided that if I was going to be forced to be inside then I would need a good book. I found an English bookstore and bought the book “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle, (I know, I know, it’s a very stay-at-home mom leisure reading while waiting for your child at the orthodontist’s office type book, but you can suck it cause I loved every second of it...) and it was perfect!
While I was drinking beers under heat lamps at cafes along the beautiful but rainy Cours Mirabeau (Aix’s main drag), I was reading about beautiful Provençal landscapes drenched in sunlight, relaxation, and pastis. I read the entire book in the 48 hours I was there and it made up for anything I might have missed due to the inclimate weather! Despite the drizzle, I made it to the house in which Paul Cezanne grew up and painted (Jas de Bouffon) and also to his Atelier, where he painted still lifes and gardens until his death.
There was a gay film festival going on too, so I went to a gay Italian with French subtitles film and it was wonderfully confusing in every way! On my last night, I went to this charming restaurant in a little alley that I had scoped out earlier in the day and had one of the most phenomenal meals of my life. The restaurant was warm and filled with sunflowers, terra cotta tiles, bunches of lavender, candlelight and in the rear there was a huge open fire pit that sent smells of Provençal herbs wafting throughout the room. I had a beautiful terrine of duck liver spread on fresh crusty bread followed by Beef that was deliciously caramelized in a delicately herbed red wine reduction sauce that was so tender and juicy the knife went unused and completely ignored. For desert I had a nougat glacée (like nougat ice cream) with hazel nuts, bits of candied citrus, and drizzled with buttery caramel. The balding gay waiter apparently liked my style and with a wink and a mild, Provençal version of the “bend and snap” gave me a lemon-flavored digestif on the house. It was incredible and was like drinking sunshine with a bit of a kick.
The next day it was still raining so I spent the morning in a beautiful old café where Paul Cezanne used to hang and finished my book.
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