Frustrating Carcassone

Relaxing

After A Frustrating Day

Carcassone

Oct. 11, 2015-Carcassone

Frustrating Carcassone

Carcassone is only two hours from Arles. It's toll road most of the way. It took us five hours to get to the walled city and Medieval Chateau (castle). Here's why.

The terrain was changing. It was more parched with the appearance of red clay soil. Vineyards were still in abundance as well as the typical white horses of the Camargue region we were leaving. We were entering the honey capital of France. Every town had a castle. Dozens of modern windmills dotted the hills.

The road was smooth and relatively new. We chose to stop at a rest area for gas, etc. It was new, clean, and beautifully appointed. There was a patio with bright umbrellas for picnics. The ladies room stall doors were decorated with laminate in a riot of floral bouquets.  David pulled up to a pump and tried to use his VISA, but it was rejected. We went inside and used the card to make a purchase. It worked. American cards require signatures. In some places where that's not possible they're rejected.  We explained to the cashier about our problem and he said to pay later. I remembered how to say "pump 14" in French. We left the card with him. David tried again and failed. I went in to be sure the pump was on. It wasn't. Eventually gas got pumped. We were on our way. At least a twenty minute delay.

At last we arrived at the Tourist Info Bureau in Carcassonne. Where to park. The main underground lot was closed. It was Sunday. After parking in two lots we finally figured out that parking was free today. We settled on the second open street level lot. We found the Info place and were given maps of the town, the surrounding area, and a hotel booklet. Of course, we hadn't pre-booked. We were winging it in France. We felt rushed then realized they were closing. Lights were being turned off and we were escorted to the door and out.

Lunch was in order. Not a lot was open, but we found a cafe offering double cheeseburgers and fries. What we got were single burgers with cheese on the top and bottom of the burger. It was double cheese, not double burger. No matter. I tried calling hotels to see about booking. I didn't know which numbers to dial of those given. For example, our hotel, the Ibis, is 33 (0)4 68 72 37 37. The waitress tried to help but had trouble too. I'd tried variations, but she got a ringtone leaving off the 33. For some reason this is a very busy week end here. We finally found a room and reserved it by phone.

We walked to the hotel and arranged to park the car for $10 in their garage. We walked to the car, found the hotel again, and pulled down a narrow chute into a dead end facing a garage door. We had a code to enter but didn't see a keypad. Miraculously, the door rose. A car was exiting. We did a back and forth dance and were inside. Our space, #4, was easy to find but was encroached on by the car in slot #5. I went up to the lobby through a maze of doors and buzzers to explain our plight. I hadn't realized that the garage was monitored by cameras so the clerk knew the problem. She said we should exit the garage using the keypad and pointed to a free street spot we could have until the car in #5 checked out this evening. Down I went, but not far. The door to the lot said to push then pull. I did and nothing happened. The door was stuck. Up to the lobby I went. The clerk ran down the steps with me and pointed out that "push" meant to push a button near the door then pull the door. Who knew? By the time David and I emerged from the garage the street space was taken. The solution was now that we'd use the hotel code to park in the underground lot (costing $8) across the street that was posted as closed. We did, it did, and we checked in.

Our room is a tad bigger than a Microtel, but newly appointed and clean. There is only one outlet in the room. It's on the wall under the TV. Can't watch TV and have anything plugged in. Our iPad, phone, and most importantly David's CPAP machine have to be plugged into the extension cord we brought.

By now it was 3 PM and we were just starting across the ancient bridge over the River Aude to the UNESCO old city, castle, and ramparts. Uphill we went. We enjoyed an ice-cream cone and pushed through crowds of tired families with crying kids all making their way to the next souvenir shop or cafe. We lined up for tickets and audio for the castle by 3:30 PM. It was in the high 70's, the sun was blazing, and we were getting cranky. The castle visitation ended at 5 PM. We got to the ticket booth at 4:10 PM and were told they were starting to ask people to leave the castle by 4:30 and closing at 5, but we could still pay full admission for a twenty-minute walkthrough. We declined. Wasn't going well.

We groused to each other as we walked around the old town and up on the rampart walls. David wanted to see the basilica and it was a good place to rest. It surprised us by being one of the loveliest we've seen. The stained glass was delicate and the primary colors caught the sun giving a kaleidoscope effect. As we tried to deal with our disappointment, four men appeared at the base of the steps to the altar. They lined up in a row as for a picture. One had a strange otherworldly look on his face. Then they began to sing a cappella. The acoustics and their clear, strong, soulful sound helped center us. It was good we didn't understand the words they sang. Words would have detracted and distracted. The tone alone was soothing. They sang two songs then offered to sell their CD to benefit the church. A bit tacky, but understandable.

We went on to visit a schoolhouse from the 1800's where posters cautioning against alcoholism caught my fancy. They said too much drink led to smaller children, muscle weakness, epilepsy, and idiocy. Not far off.

Minds at ease, we decided to continue our rampart walk admiring the countryside from a sovereign's eye view. The light playing on the fields and red tile rooftops cast shadows hinting at dinnertime. We chose a place at random and enjoyed the plate du jour. Along with soup or salad we had chicken with ratatouille and fries. It was peasant food, somewhat akin to paprikas, but perfect for the setting. David enjoyed his first glass of French wine on this trip, and we finished with poached pear covered in chocolate sauce.

As we crossed the bridge back to our hotel, I couldn't resist looking back at the castle.

Tomorrow we head East back to Italy. I don't know how far we'll get. It's over seven hours to where we want to go, CinqueTerres, so we'll break it into two driving days.

Toby

City of Fountains-Aix

One of A Hundred

18th Century Luxury

Legal Parking 

Oct. 10, 2015- Aix-en-Provence

City of Fountains-Aix

Our granddaughter, Rylee, when asked if her seat belt was fastened said, "Yes, and I'm ready to follow the highlighted route." And that's what we did today. We followed that shocking pink line all the way to Aix-en-Provence. The guidebooks I read said it was a university town, a mecca for art, and haven for the wealthy. True on all counts. They didn't mention hoards of people in town on Saturday.

Parking is always a problem in old towns and this was no exception. We've been using underground garages, but had trouble locating one in Aix. By the time we realized it was under several city blocks, we'd passed entrances without recognizing them as such. David had an idea. Our Lady of Parking was called on. In an instant we'd located an entrance and were fighting for one of over 450 spaces that were posted as available. Lines of cars descended as electronic signs recorded 425 spaces left, 417, etc. By the time we got to level -5, there were under 200 open spaces. We were there six hours and cars were entering for the evening with one driver following us to our car.

Always in need of a toilet, we got to use one of those automated round kiosks on the street. I've seen them on TV. For 50 cents (not $2 as in Switzerland), I used it. When I finished, it locked itself. David waited for the self-cleaning function then he paid 50 cents. The interior is large enough for wheel chair access and stainless steel. Impressive.

Aix is known as a city of 100 fountains, and that it is. There's not a roundabout or square without one. We were able to take a tram ride for the first time on this trip and it was worth it. The stucco facades of buildings are decorated with carvings, elaborately massive doors, and wrought iron balconies. The Avenues (notably Mirabeau) are lined with plane trees and reflect some of the best promenades of Europe. This was a monied city and still is. Mansions lined Rue Mazarine and were either well maintained or being restored. This was the home of Emil Zola and Paul Cezanne. They were school mates and friends. This is where Hemingway strolled and dreamed.

We visited Hotel du Caumont, formerly a mansion, now a museum. The restoration and furnishing were 18th century when it was built and occupied by a family. Unfortunately for them, the French Revolution of 1789 disrupted their lives and the house changed hands many times. In 1964, the Isenbart family sold the place to the city and it became a conservatory.

An informative and professionally done film about Paul Cezanne was presented. He came from a comfortable family and didn't have to worry about funds. But his father wanted him to be a lawyer and there was much conflict. There were many dramatizations of Cezanne and his model working. Then the screen morphed into the final work of art that was produced.

We negotiated lunch, I mean really negotiated. We walked into a cafe and a woman who was at what looked like a toaster oven started speaking in rapid French. We didn't understand, but a man at the bar began to translate. We learned that we were to order inside, sit outside, and wait to be served. We had to go outside to read the menu on a blackboard, go back in, order, go out, find a table, sit. Accomplished. We'd ordered panini. Mine was salmon and goat cheese. Usually salmon overseas is what we call lox. This time it was grilled salmon. Bon! David had a chicken one, but the best part was the bread. It was long French bread that had been greased with something delicious then panninified (heated) in that toaster oven. So yum!

We trekked on to see the Cathedral where a wedding was in process. Huge crowd. No photos. The Hotel de Ville (City Hall) was busy with brides everywhere waiting to be officially wed. I love the European system where marriage is a legal function of the "state" and the "church" can only bless what the "state" has already registered.

Trivia time. Why are streets here named Rue de Lice? That's lice to us. The Plague (bubonic, black, whatever you want to call it) made a huge impression on these folks. Over 100,000 died in Aix en Provence alone. Those lousy buggers are commemorated for the havoc they caused.

Basic dinner back in Arles. Lamb for David, Nicoise for me.

Tonight's photo is of our car beautifully parked on a sidewalk. It's a legal parking space and the first time David has had to jump a curb to park.

We sadly leave Hotel Acacias tomorrow. It has been a comfortable home the last five nights. On to Carcassonne.

Toby

Another Ruin and Pont-Nimes and Pont Du Gard

French Gardem

Pont Du Gard

Oct. 9, 2015- Nimes and Pont Du Gard

Another Ruin and Pont-Nimes and Pont Du Gard

We got a late start to Nimes this morning. It wasn't far. It had been on a major Roman route thus has a few well preserved ruins. Our first stop was at the Maison Carre, a temple to Augustus Caesar, built in the early 1st century. It sits in the center of where the Forum was. There we saw a well done movie dramatizing the history of Nimes from the Gauls through today. The Temple has been in continuous use since it's inception including stints as a stable, arsenal, and a fort containing shops and homes.

We grabbed a lunch of what we thought was going to be a Maxi Burger, but turned out to be a chicken sandwich on a burger bun. Could have been worse. Then we trudged on to yet another amphitheater. It claimed to be the most intact in all of Europe. It certainly looked complete and since we're now amphitheater mavens, I'd agree. The audioguide told us how gladiators were well paid and well trained athletes. As the Roman Empire weakened and Barbarians invaded in the 4th century, the cities contracted. With less demand for blood sports, gladiatorial careers weren't sought after and quality fell off. Today, bull fights fill the arena, bloodless, of course.

We walked to the formal gardens which weren't so amazing. I don't love French style gardens with all that gravel and few plantings. The Italian garden on the hill was lush with trees and winding paths. My preference. Ice-cream called once more and then it was off to le Pont.

This was in Pont Du Gard, 20 miles away. This Roman aqueduct (the best preserved) was the most complete we've seen and towered over us. The still perfectly placed stones gleamed golden in the sun as we tried to get the full length of it in one camera shot. Admission was free but parking was $20 per car. A bargain if you have a van full.

We drove back to Arles, which has been a perfect place for our touring base, past endless vineyards with grape leaves turning red and bronze as the air cooled. Stunning.

Just a bit of Nimes trivia should you ever be on Jeopardy. Levi Strauss bought cloth from traders in New York. It was from Nimes, thus called de Nime in French, and, voila, we have denim.  

We had a quick dinner of pho at the Vietnamese place next to our hotel and will turn in early.

Tomorrow Aix-en-Provence.

Toby
 

Passionate Avignon

Papal Palace

Le Pont d'Avignon

Synagogue

Oct. 8, 2015- Avignon

Passionate Avignon

We conquered Avignon! So did several popes. Between 1309-1377, Avignon became the seat of the papacy after a disagreement between Rome and the king of France. More strife caused the Western schism in 1378, returning the Papacy to Avignon with what are called illegitimate popes or anti-popes. It blew up again, and in 1417, Rome resumed control.

But getting to Avignon was half the fun. We drove past fields that were probably drawn by Van Gogh with gnarled farmhouses likely standing from his day. Greenhouses dotted the landscape bringing in modern elements. Every few kilometers there was another roundabout requiring us to count exits out loud. We echoed Lily Tomlin's "one ringy dingy, two ringy dingies,..."

As the home of Christianity in the 14th and part of the 15th century, Avignon needed a presence. The Papacy had to set down roots and prove its dominance. It had to face off with the Kings of France and show who was boss. In building the Palais des Papes in just twenty years, the Church created its seat of power and competed in the "my palace is bigger than yours" contest. Theirs won.

Massive might be too insignificant a word. Gargantuan might be more accurate. The Palais is a tribute to architects and masons of the day. Its vaulted ceilings, arches, and walls are all stone. Humans are dwarfed. Today, the visitor has to imagine the frescoes covering the walls and rely on the audio-guide and videos. The narrative is filled with stories of this miracle and that leaving me reeling as to the complexity of the tales. The rooms began to look alike and the mythos blended into a blur. After traipsing the flights of steps involved in getting anywhere, I admire the stamina of the popes who lived there. Alas, in the French Revolution of the 1800's, the structure was used as a prison.

We bought a Passion Pass at the Tourist Info Bureau that gave us discounts at many venues. Our next quest was the infamous Pont. Arching over the Rhone, it ends abruptly where it collapsed. Again the audio-guide told of more miracles and pointed out more chapels. This time St. Benezet was said to have levitated rocks to get it all started, but eventually townsfolk pitched in. Built in the 13th century, it became famous when a popular song was written in the mid-1800's, telling about children dancing on the bridge. Actually, dancing took place under the bridge. Their bad.

We spent too much time and had an unsatisfactory lunch at a cafe that ran out of whatever we ordered and had snail-paced service. We found the 13th century synagogue on whose steps rested several drunks. Not surprisingly, it was closed. We rang the bell under a sign indicating it should be open, but to no avail. David had emailed them a few times asking for an appointment, but had no response.

Late night. Tired. Tomorrow likely going to Nimes.

Toby

Walks Through Time-Touring Arles

Roman Theater

Roman Amphitheater

Van Gogh's "Cafe Terrace At Night"

Actual Cafe Van Gogh Painted

Sanitarium Van Gogh Painted

Correct Allee of Plane Trees 

Oct. 7, 2015- Touring Arles

Walks Through Time

Boy, do they know how to set up a market here! The stalls circumnavigated the walls of the old city on the outside. I bet it was a mile, even more. We dutifully began our jaunt around eating our breakfast of croissant and bread whose name I forgot. David bought olives :), and we gawked at the array of "departments" and variety within. It was the first time we'd seen mattresses being displayed in an outdoor market.

We found the Tourist Info Bureau and a singularly unhelpful woman with a very bad cold gave us a map and was going to send us off. I asked about the Pass Advantage, and she sold us one. Arles has the largest old town with the most to see of any place on this trip. It was bombed during WWII; it's dirty, it's shabby; it's wonderful.

We walked all day bouncing from one ruin to another. The Greeks were first, but the Roman presence prevails. We started at the Roman Theater, which is still in use. That's a good thing except for the metal bleachers built over the old stone seats. The Amphitheater, built in the first century AD, is also being used. It's a bull-fighting arena. They're humane and don't kill the bulls, but restaurants here offer bull stew and bull steak. Hmm.

Lunch was steak hache with frites. The lone server managed to keep her cool even with a massive crowd. When asked about how busy she was she said she loved her job.

We then descended into the Roman crypts (circa 46 BC). It was a damp, cavernous, dark, arched puzzle of corridors steps, puddles, and dead ends. As I took pictures, I was struck by the juxtaposition of my smart phone taking photos of an ancient labyrinth built by Julius Caesar. Eerie. Daylight welcomed us as we climbed into what was the 2nd century Roman Forum, now a plaza busy with tourists.

Our last site was the Baths of Constantine, dated at 4th century AD. Yes, that guy. We've seen baths before, but it's always fun to imagine the engineering that went into them.

As an aside, before we came here I knew I wanted to see the places where Vincent Van Gogh painted. I have an affinity for him since I'm named for his brother, Theodore. My mother was reading Lust For Life when she was pregnant with me, thus my legal name, Theodora. The Foundation of Van Gogh was closed today, but we came upon a suspiciously familiar cafe. When I went inside, they had a copy of Van Gogh's "Cafe Terrace at Night." The original bar was still in use and the exterior was identical to the painting. I was on a quest. We saw a postcard stand featuring his works, and the shopkeeper was helpful in mapping out places with scenes Van Gogh painted. We found the sanitarium where he was a patient, the public gardens where I took a picture of the wrong trees, and the Rhone where he did "Starry Night Over the Rhone." Sad to say, the "Yellow House" is no more as it was destroyed in the war.

We met a lovely couple from Toronto as we were looking for a restaurant tonight. They're Jewish and have a gay son. Go figure. They're here for a river cruise that leaves tomorrow. It made dinnertime very enjoyable. I took my phone out to show them pictures and had a missed call. It was an Akron number so I dialed. It was our exterminating company trying to set up our next treatment. I told them I'd call when we got back. I don't think she really got it that we were in France.

Tomorrow we go to Avignon... sur le pont.

Toby

Rocks and Hard Place-Nice to Arles

Ouchy Beach

Hill Unclimbed

View From Acacias Hotel

Oct. 6, 2015-Arles

Rocks and Hard Place-Nice to Arles

Laundry accomplished! We walked our laundry bag to a self-service laundromat a few blocks from our hotel. Luckily, Bill from Philadelphia was there. He'd already figured out how to work the machines, pay station, and detergent dispenser. It was a maze of machine numbers, cost based on machine size, time needed, and on and on. We chatted while we ate our McDonald McBreakfasts and shared travel stories. When he left, we became the resident experts. In walked a tourist from Hungary who greatly appreciated our tutorial and went to get her wash.

That done, we walked about a dozen blocks to the promenade along the Mediterranean. It was vintage Cote d'Azur: sparkling blue glinting on pastel buildings lining the shore. Sort of like Miami. but, viva la difference, not in a good way. The beach was rocky. We knew it would be, but it wasn't pebbly. The rocks were the size of my fist. The temperature was heading for the mid to high 70's and people were sunbathing. Ouch!

The flower, produce, and crafts market was up and running in the old city. We strolled and inhaled the overpowering aroma of lavender sachet and soap. That was a hugely popular item. We resisted. I couldn't imagine traveling two more weeks with that odor in my luggage.

There was a hilltop garden we just didn't climb up to. It was 90 meters up several flights and the heat had gotten to us. As it turned out, museums close on Tuesdays, and the one we wanted to see, the Chagall, was under renovation. It was time for lunch.

We stayed with the French food theme of last night and had savory crepes. David ordered a meal that came with a chocolate and banana dessert crepe as big as a tennis racket. They come unfolded. They also featured gluten free crepes. I've noticed a lot of gluten free offerings on menus.

So that was Nice. I didn't love it. David adored the promenade. It was the first time we saw homeless sleeping on the street on this trip. It was also the first time we were warned about pick- pockets.

We decided to go to Arles for several days and use it as a base to day trip the area. It was a two hour forty-five minute drive including a hold up when our credit card wouldn't work at a toll-booth. Shades of the same problem in Italy, but this time a person who spoke English came to our lane and we paid cash. We went over very large mountains made easier to traverse by the toll-way. Well worth it.

Despite Our Lady's use of the term "slip road" which means highway ramp unless she actually says highway ramp, we were able to interpret her British English. We observed what might be a universal signal for speed trap; flashing headlights.

The Lady made a valiant effort getting us to the first hotel we put into the GPS, a Best Western. We chose it because we've had good experiences with them abroad. They're usually unique and pleasant. This was neither. It was filthy and decrepit. We went in search of our second choice, recommended by Frommer's or Rick Steves. It was in the old city. The Lady tried her best, but we ended up at a dead end.  A friendly woman with a little English knew where the hotel was, directed David to back up into a parking lot, and told me how to walk to the hotel. It wasn't far, but the only room they had was on the third floor (no lift) and we'd consolidated into one now very heavy carry-on size bag. The bed was small and they only had one night free. We hope to stay in Arles four or five nights.

But before she turned me loose, the Frenchwoman who'd directed us to this hotel told me she thought there was a hotel around the corner from the parking lot on the street next to the Rhone River. That's where I headed. We are now checked into the Acacias. We have a sitting room plus bedroom with king bed. We have A/C, WiFi, and free parking on the street if we get lucky. We did. The clerk apologized for the rate because it won't go down until Oct. 31, end of season. We're paying $75 a night. And it has a GoJo soap dispenser in the shower. Home sweet home.

We walked all around town looking for a restaurant. Most were closed by 8 PM. Odd. We ended up at the Vietnamese place next to our hotel. It's a good thing we did. There was a downpour as we were eating al fresco and we had to run inside. We didn't have pho but noted that it was only $8. Another day.

Another fashion blast! Short tapered jackets reaching only a bit below the waist is the rage here. Ladies, time to get rid of all those tunics.

I think we'll hang around Arles tomorrow.

Toby

Nicely Done-Monaco to Nice

Monte Carlo, Monaco

Grimaldi Palace Renovation

Oct. 5, 2015-Nice

Nicely Done-Monaco to Nice

We made it out of Savona before noon. My phone wouldn't call the tech help number of AutoEurope for Garmin assistance, so I asked the hotel owner's daughter to dial it on their phone. We connected and some poor guy had to deal with our problem at 3 AM U.S. time. He and his supervisor went back and forth with suggestions and even tried a Garmin in their office. They said it had to work with the lighter adaptor and only charge with the USB if we wanted to use it when we were on foot. They said to take the car to a Euro Car office and have them put a fuse in the lighter and re-enable it. There was such a place near our Hotel San Marco.

The Euro Car folks said they couldn't fix the fuse then tested the lighter adaptor in another car. It worked. I asked for a new car and they said YES. We had to top off the gas in the old car before they'd hand us keys to the new one. We filled it up and returned to the office. It was locked!! I let out a yelp and the clerk came running from next door. She was only having a coffee break. We now have a larger, newer, Fiat with no dents.

There was a laundry near our hotel and we thought we'd have clean clothes, but it wasn't self-serve and with siesta in the mix, our laundry wouldn't be ready until 3 PM. We decided to head for Monaco. We used the Autostrada since there was flooding yesterday and these highways have wonderful Auto Grills with brimming cafeterias and restaurants. That's where we lunched. Now we're in price-shock in reverse. Lunch was two sandwiches, a liter and a half bottle of water, two half liters of water, and a box of cough drops for $16. 

David got used to manual shifting immediately; the cruise control, however, was another thing. Evidently the cruise and speed governor are on the same control. He mistakenly set the governor and we couldn't figure out why he couldn't accelerate. Problem solved.

We've stepped back in time. It's summer again, temp is in the mid-70's, and flowers are in bloom. There are so many tunnels crawling under the Maritime Alps that we felt a part of a subterranean species by the time we emerged. But when we did, there was the sea and the pink and tan buildings rising up on the Cote d'Azure.

Our Lady of Perpetual Help, as we called a former Garmin, has lived up to her name. We put Monte Carlo, Monaco into the search parameters and she managed to find us when we lost our way and not scold. We went on a circuitous descent through alleys and switchback lanes where every street changed names at will. The traffic was zany and the motorcycles, I don't even have to tell you. Tourist season is not over yet. 

A policeman directed us to Parking Palais-Musee and we ended up on level -5 exactly where we wanted to be. And there was a public toilet! But, oy, the Grimaldi's should be ashamed of themselves. It was a disgrace. Considering they're going through a vast home improvement project of their own, they should blush at treating their guests, the tourists, so shabbily.

We took an audio tour of their home, the palace (built in 1191 as a Genoese fortress), enjoying the splendor of gilt, tapestries, art, and majesty. Many rooms, including the throne room, were grand, but on a small scale. Everything seemed to be shrunk from the usual European royal abodes. One painting of Princess Grace, Prince Rainier, and their children was striking. It was done in 1981, a year before her death. In it the Prince and three children are touching each other either on the shoulder or hand. Princess Grace is standing alone in their midst.

We tripped through the barriers and construction site surrounding their home and took an ice-cream break. I've never had such deliciously strong flavors. There were chunks of chocolate, coconut, and cafe in our scoops. Which brings me to an issue I'm having. Several times I've spoken in broken French and been answered in English. It's obvious they understood me. I want to practice. What happened to the snobbish French who only spoke their native tongue?

We walked through gardens overlooking the sea, paused for pictures, looked at the church then actually figured out how to pay for parking and found our car. When we headed for Nice we couldn't tell if we were in a tunnel or entering another parking lot. We surfaced facing a lovely green sign to Autostrada Nice. Despite the fact Our Lady says "nice" instead of the French pronunciation of Nice, and with many more missteps, we arrived at The Best Western New York Hotel, Nice. I know, it's a chain, but we needed nicer (pardon the pun) than last night and may want to stay two days if they have an opening. David managed to maneuver the car into the last free parking spot on the street and there it will stay until hell freezes over. 

Dinner was around the corner at Cenac "snack" where we had photo worthy duck confit and salad Nicoise.

Tomorrow we'll tour the old town and leave for Aix-en-Provence. We're aware of the tragic rains they had Saturday but are told the highways should be open. We didn't realize the extent of the disaster. All rail lines, airports, and roadways were affected. Missed it by a day.

Toby