I left off at Beaune, from whence I travelled to my first stop in Provence, Valaurie. It was about 3.5 hours, so I enjoyed several stories by David Sedaris en route. In many of his tales he talks about the years he and his partner Hugh owned a house in Normandy. They also lived in Paris, so Normandy was their bolt hole in the countryside. He had the funniest essay about his relationship with his Paris dentist and his periodontist, and I was in stitches as I drove along the Autoroute du Soleil. He talked about entertaining visitors in their rustic Normandy cottage, and about the village that is so small they don't have a daily or even a weekly local paper, but a monthly, and how, inevitably, everyone is featured in it. I was reminded of an earlier work of his where he tells the FUNNIEST story about trapping mice at their cottage, and I think the title of that essay was 'Nuit of he Living Dead' from "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim", which I listened to a couple of summers ago and it left me with sides sore from laughing and tears running down my face.
Ah, the Autoroute du Soleil, how I love you: once I join that motorway I feel relaxed and happy that I will soon be in my favourite part of the world. This year I broke my journey at Valaurie, which is near Grignan, (one of last summer's stops), in the Drôme district. I arrived at my hotel, Le Moulin de Valaurie, which is beautifully situated about 25 minutes off the motorway, surrounded by fields of sunflower and lavender. It is a bit isolated and very pretty, with a large garden and very substantial, simply yet elegantly decorated, rooms. I was shown to one with its own outdoor terrace and access to the garden, which is always pleasing to someone travelling avec un chien. Lunch was another pot of yogurt and an apple in the car en route, so when I arrived I was more than ready to sample the hotel's alfresco dining, and it did not disappoint. the menu is quite nice, with lots of vegetarian but not much in the way of fish options. I enjoyed a lovely eggplant appetizer and for my main course I ordered the pintade (guineafowl), which was served hot and fragrant with garden fresh herbs, honey and preserved lemons. I kept things modest for the cheese course, sampling two local chevre before moving on to a chocolate concoction I found unremarkable. The service was very polite and efficient, but lacked any warmth. But the hotel and the meal were very affordable, and in a gorgeous setting, a lack of warmth in the service and reception can be forgiven. Below are some pictures of Le Moulin de Valaurie.
Awoke energized the following morning and headed off through the sunflower fields toward the elevated village, but did not take my camera, so no photos of the glorious fields: use your imagination! The village was about 2km away and no monument or ruins to regard, about 500 people.....but I only saw about 4 of them that morning :) Back to the hotel for a light breakfast of the usual French continental variety.
Here is a bone I have to pick with France: I don't drink coffee, never have, but when I am here I occasionally order a chocolate chaud, but without exception everywhere I go it is served to me with boiling water and a sachet of cocoa powder. Now, wouldn't you think, here in the land of very serious coffee drinkers, that it would be served with hot milk? And maybe, if they really want to make it right, use melted chocolate instead?! How hard can it be?! So disappointing. Maybe I just don't stay in the right places!
So, in the car and off to Marseille - hurrah!
I had wanted a night in Marseille just because I normally only see it from the airplane as we take off or land, and though I've had a few dinners there, I've never really spent much time looking around and this is the year Marseille is the France Capital of Culture. Now, because the weather is very, very hot, and because I am staying in hotels and traveling with a dog who can't be left alone in said hotels, nor the car, visits to places like museums are out of the question, but still, I wanted to nose around and see what was up in MRS!
Arrived at lunchtime at my hotel, the Hôtel la Residence Vieux-Port. The hotel is on the seawall, or embarcadero, or whatever you want to call it, and there is only one space to stop and unload, which was done very quickly before I was sent down the street to the underground lot about 5 minutes walk away. Down, and down and down I went looking for a spot, then made a point of writing my space number down to avoid disaster the next day. The hotel could not be better situated, is modest but very up to date and well priced. When I was shown up to my room on the 7th floor I could hardly believe it - the view!!!
But Bistro Baby is here to eat for Canada - and that is the main reason I opted for a night in Marseille: I adore bouillabaisse and Marseille is the HQ for the divine dish. We have always favoured Michel's in the Catalan for this fishy feast, but this time I was here to eat at Chez Fon Fon. I had a decision to make: the rest was 3 km away on foot, so would I (we) walk it or find a dog loving cab driver to deliver us there? Not a tough decision: I am a walker and I had read that finding this place was a challenge, so that meant I had to take it on. As the afternoon heat slowly eased, Hanley and I walked from one end of the Vieux Port to beyond the other end, a gorgeous, stunning walk past thousands of tethered boats and yachts, huge hotels, acres of beaches, thousands of tourists and then into the Catalan with all the seafood cafes and restaurants that make this area so alive and compelling. Tipped my hat to Michel's and kept walking as the road became more vertical and turning in directions away from the heart of the Catalan, and then, suddenly, I noticed the tiny passage (not a street at all) I had been watching for: into the shadows and down a very long, steep flight of stairs we went, and into.....
...a gorgeous but smaller version of Le Vieux Port. Like a pig hunting truffles, once I got to the bottom of the stairs I knew exactly where to turn and within moments was seated by a charming waiter in a delightful (air conditioned) room overlooking the wee harbour with a glass of champagne and a large carafe de l'eau in front of me. Dog was grateful to see a bucket of water set down where he could reach it without having to move. A perfect start to what would turn out to be a meal well worth the effort it took to get there.
The wait staff were excellent recommending an excellent sparky little Côtes du Rhone to accompany my meal and I eagerly awaited 'the presentation': this is when they bring you a basket containing all the fish going into your bouillabaisse, glistening and fresh as can be. The waiter had very subtly advised against an entrée as I had a very major plat to get through and I agreed with relief. As I waited for my dinner I enjoyed the view and watched as several small boats and their parties arrived and departed. I was charmed by one young couple, obviously on a date, who pulled up in a small motor boat, tied up, wandered away, reappearing a few minutes later with a large pizza and a bottle of wine then casting off and into the harbour for a romantic sunset dinner cruise á deux.
And then - time for the main event!
Ohhhhhh..................it was too, too good. And unlike other places that serve this dish, here they return to you as they see your broth disappearing and top you up with more of the luscious, hot nectar. I was greedy, eating as slowly as I could manage and it was no hardship to eat all the fish, a LOT of broth, most of the rouille, but had to declare defeat when it came to the potatoes.
The sun started to set and the sky lit up with so many pink and orange hues........when I noticed my waiter had whispered up to the table to offer dessert :) "Do you really recommend dessert?" I asked the tactful garçon, "..and if so, which one?" He answered: "the chocolate, Madame, it is inevitable". Inevitable?!?!?! Well, if you say so, who am I to interfere with the Fates?
Thank goodness I had the 3 km walk back to the hotel, that's all I can say. That, and thank you, Chez Fon Fon: expectations surpassed.
And here are a few photos as I departed CFF and walked back to the hotel. There is one of the JFK Monument all lit in green, and another rather blurry one of a seaside bistro and the Vieux Port - my destination - beyond.
And so, to bed.
Next day: return to Maussane-les-Alpilles.
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