Well, it’s the beginning of the end of my “birthday week”. Unbeknownst to me, Katherine and Wendy [our insider to all things French] were cooking up a birthday special for me. It began with Katherine taking me out to dinner on my birthday at one of Wendy’s [and now one of our] favorite restaurants called Fish in the 6th arr. And it ended up with us catching a TGV to Avignon and joining Wendy at her friend’s villa in Provence.
Now the TGV is the fastest passenger train in the world. At 150 mph you feel like you’re flying on the ground. That is, if you’re moving. We had a few problems. At first, we were told that we were pulling off into a siding because of some repair work up ahead of us. But after 5 or 6 TGVs came flying by us, another explanation was offered up to us over the loudspeakers (en francais, naturellement). We had some sort of engine problem but that it would only take a few more minutes to sort out. About 15 minutes later, we were given a call for help. Was there anybody on the train that could help with a medical emergency? Apparently, somebody was having a claustrophobia attack (the train was a double decker and the poor soul was travelling on the lower deck, 2nd class no less).
Anyway, we sat in the siding for about an hour with several more updates. First we would be going back to Paris. Then it was determined that our TGV could not go faster than 4 mph so another engine would be coming to push us back to Paris. No, another engine would come and pull us to Lyon…back to Paris, then maybe south towards Lyon and Orange…you get the picture. We ended up in Paris about the time we were supposed to arrive at Avignon.
And the silver lining to all this is the contingency plans that the SNCF [the national company that runs the TGV] have. As soon as we got back to the Gare de Lyon in Paris on the tracks right next to us was our brand new TGV. Off our broken train and onto the new train and we were rolling at lightning speed once again. And to sweeten the pot, we all got a free “coffret repas” – basically a French bento-box. And, unlike our air carriers who leave you stranded on the tarmac without so much as an apology, we were all given vouchers and postage-paid envelopes so that our fares could be refunded.
And now it was time to rent our car and drive to Masmolene. Avignon was hot as it usually is in July. Climatisation [or AC] if it exists, seems to be set to a cool 80 degrees! [or maybe it’s just set at 20 degrees lower than the ambient temp so you can feel the difference but really not get cool]. So as I am dripping in the Hertz office, I ask that we reserved a 4 car door. She tells me my sized car does not come with a 4 door model. Yes I know I rented the smallest vehicle made but I pick up the car sheet and show her the Hertz picture of my car in a 4 door variety. She says she doesn’t think there are any left. I summon up my best ass-kissing French that I can and ask her could she check one more time? And then I spring it on her “Vous êtes très gentile.” That did it. I got my 4 door car.
So we’re off. Katherine is directing the journey. I’ve got the AC on full blast [which seems to work as well as the AC in the buildings] so we’re basically forming small pools of liquid in our seats. Now Wendy was kind of enough to print out directions for us….the scenic ones. Now France has two main sorts of roads. N roads or national roads and D roads.
Now N roads aren’t all that bad. Think two lane each way highways only with smaller lanes. D roads think beautiful scenery, beautiful views, flowers, mountains, crops, animals and one lane each way except that as you plant your car comfortably in the center, it’s only when a car at lightnng speed and coming in the other direction that you realize it’s not a one-way street.
But the views……hard to imagine fields of lavender in all their purple glory next to a field of sunflowers in their yellow glory. You bob up and down over the gently rolling hills [and not so gently as you get closer to Masmolene – it’s a hill town]. A field of corn on one side of the road and maybe wild asparagus on the other side. Apricot orchards being harvested or vineyards with the grapes just forming after their flowering. And in the distance, up on the hillside, the village church and castle of Masmolene
.
Now Wendy told us that Masmolene was tiny but that her friend’s house was comfortable and large enough for the 3 of us and Marie Antoinette [Wendy’s cocker spaniel]. She was correct on both accounts. The house, built in the 11th or 12th century just like the village, easily swallowed us up. On the outside, the house looked like every other building in Masmolene, entirely built with ancient limestone brick from the local quarry. The inside had been renovated a bunch of times [there was no running hot and cold water, toilets, or gourmet kitchen back in the 12th century]. And for being a tiny village, let me say truthfully that upon our arrival, we doubled the population.
We had got off to a bad start with the TGV challenges, but looking back, it was a valuable experience. Our 2 ½ hour journey ended up taking 7 hours. Our white-knuckle drive only lasted 45 minutes. The views were fantastic; we learned how to take a TGV; Wendy has a gourmet dinner prepared and cases of local white and red wine; and we’re here…..in Provence.
Now the TGV is the fastest passenger train in the world. At 150 mph you feel like you’re flying on the ground. That is, if you’re moving. We had a few problems. At first, we were told that we were pulling off into a siding because of some repair work up ahead of us. But after 5 or 6 TGVs came flying by us, another explanation was offered up to us over the loudspeakers (en francais, naturellement). We had some sort of engine problem but that it would only take a few more minutes to sort out. About 15 minutes later, we were given a call for help. Was there anybody on the train that could help with a medical emergency? Apparently, somebody was having a claustrophobia attack (the train was a double decker and the poor soul was travelling on the lower deck, 2nd class no less).
Anyway, we sat in the siding for about an hour with several more updates. First we would be going back to Paris. Then it was determined that our TGV could not go faster than 4 mph so another engine would be coming to push us back to Paris. No, another engine would come and pull us to Lyon…back to Paris, then maybe south towards Lyon and Orange…you get the picture. We ended up in Paris about the time we were supposed to arrive at Avignon.
And the silver lining to all this is the contingency plans that the SNCF [the national company that runs the TGV] have. As soon as we got back to the Gare de Lyon in Paris on the tracks right next to us was our brand new TGV. Off our broken train and onto the new train and we were rolling at lightning speed once again. And to sweeten the pot, we all got a free “coffret repas” – basically a French bento-box. And, unlike our air carriers who leave you stranded on the tarmac without so much as an apology, we were all given vouchers and postage-paid envelopes so that our fares could be refunded.
And now it was time to rent our car and drive to Masmolene. Avignon was hot as it usually is in July. Climatisation [or AC] if it exists, seems to be set to a cool 80 degrees! [or maybe it’s just set at 20 degrees lower than the ambient temp so you can feel the difference but really not get cool]. So as I am dripping in the Hertz office, I ask that we reserved a 4 car door. She tells me my sized car does not come with a 4 door model. Yes I know I rented the smallest vehicle made but I pick up the car sheet and show her the Hertz picture of my car in a 4 door variety. She says she doesn’t think there are any left. I summon up my best ass-kissing French that I can and ask her could she check one more time? And then I spring it on her “Vous êtes très gentile.” That did it. I got my 4 door car.
So we’re off. Katherine is directing the journey. I’ve got the AC on full blast [which seems to work as well as the AC in the buildings] so we’re basically forming small pools of liquid in our seats. Now Wendy was kind of enough to print out directions for us….the scenic ones. Now France has two main sorts of roads. N roads or national roads and D roads.
Now N roads aren’t all that bad. Think two lane each way highways only with smaller lanes. D roads think beautiful scenery, beautiful views, flowers, mountains, crops, animals and one lane each way except that as you plant your car comfortably in the center, it’s only when a car at lightnng speed and coming in the other direction that you realize it’s not a one-way street.
But the views……hard to imagine fields of lavender in all their purple glory next to a field of sunflowers in their yellow glory. You bob up and down over the gently rolling hills [and not so gently as you get closer to Masmolene – it’s a hill town]. A field of corn on one side of the road and maybe wild asparagus on the other side. Apricot orchards being harvested or vineyards with the grapes just forming after their flowering. And in the distance, up on the hillside, the village church and castle of Masmolene
.Now Wendy told us that Masmolene was tiny but that her friend’s house was comfortable and large enough for the 3 of us and Marie Antoinette [Wendy’s cocker spaniel]. She was correct on both accounts. The house, built in the 11th or 12th century just like the village, easily swallowed us up. On the outside, the house looked like every other building in Masmolene, entirely built with ancient limestone brick from the local quarry. The inside had been renovated a bunch of times [there was no running hot and cold water, toilets, or gourmet kitchen back in the 12th century]. And for being a tiny village, let me say truthfully that upon our arrival, we doubled the population.
We had got off to a bad start with the TGV challenges, but looking back, it was a valuable experience. Our 2 ½ hour journey ended up taking 7 hours. Our white-knuckle drive only lasted 45 minutes. The views were fantastic; we learned how to take a TGV; Wendy has a gourmet dinner prepared and cases of local white and red wine; and we’re here…..in Provence.
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