AIX LIFE

Some of the wisteria that's intoxicating us with its scent  

TECH UPDATE

I'm taking it as a blessing that my new website host is giving me more opportunities to keep the neurons firing, I recently figured out that my posts aren't getting sent to subscribers. If I want them to do that, it costs a dumb amount of money, so you'll be getting an old school email from me with a link. Don't be shy about unsubscribing. Along those lines, I wrote a couple of posts from Marrakech which you probably didn't get. You can scroll down after this one to read. It was an intense four days.

Spring has taken center stage in Aix this week after poking around for the last few weeks. In fact last Tuesday at 11am, sitting t my cafe perch on Cours Mirabeau, I had sweat dripping down my back, which led me to notice the plane trees in bud down the promenade. So soon there will be an overhead canopy. Clever how the leaves come out and create shade at just the right time, isn't it?  There's a regular walk I do up to the Terrain des Peintres, which is at the top of a hill looking out over Mt. Ste. Victoire, where Cezanne apparently painted. When I was last there, the wisteria was about to burst, and it's now decorating the houses in that neighborhood, along with in many other nooks in and around Aix. Continuing my sunset walk, the olive trees were silvery green against a saturated and vibrant green grass with big yellow dandelions dancing about, going on for miles, and then it was through the meadow with ornamental cherry and apple blossoms, wild orchids and wild tiny tulips, the sound of pheasant. The thyme was blossoming in Salon-de-Provence today next to some small yellow flowers and dandelions, and there were irises in the banks next to the river, along with the first poppies.  

Purple and white irises on the sides of roads in many places

Welcome, poppies

Blooming thyme is everywhere too

These sweet little daisies have been around for a while, but deserve to take a bow

The markets are reflecting the change of season as well. There's one vendor I love because I can tell it's a family and they only ever have one ore two things, and masses of them. In the winter it was chanterelle and morel mushrooms, walnuts, then it was artichokes, and now it's asparagus and strawberries, today adding raspberries.  While the asparagus are as thick as a nickel, they melt in your mouth and have so much flavor. Available almost every day, I'll buy 3 or 4 at a time and they don't mind at all. They are a cheerful and friendly lot. Today, when I asked if I could take a photograph of the white asparagus, which I've never really understood, he was hurt that I didn't want to take a photograph of him, so here's one of both, along with the strawberries I'm enjoying while I'm typing this. 

Friendly farmer, always with a smile and a wink

Photo doesn't do them justice, many were a very pretty light purple

Carpentras strawberries are the bomb

Melons a little bigger than a softball have also been showing up, though I haven't bought one yet, as have all kinds of new cheese, little crotins no bigger than a thimble with mould on the outside. Can't wait to try them, and another, a young goat with a sprig of rosemary made by the dad of the organic vegetable seller.  Today, as well as buying from my friend above, I went to the condiment man and bought preserved lemons, harissa, capers and anchovies, forgot the tapenade, but I can always get it tomorrow.  There are a variety of prepared foods that are tempting but not cheap. The stall that gets the most attention has three huge paella dishes; one with a classic paella beautifully prepared containing shrimp and chicken, a boeuf bourgignon, and a stuffed squid in brown gravy. They also sell a very provencal lunch to go, a boiled potato, carrot and one other vegetable I can't remember with some very garlicky aioli.  There's middle eastern, African, Vietnamese, Armenian, prepared food from Brittany and Normandy, local wines, olive oil, tarts, eggs, bread, soaps, it just doesn't end.

The clothing markets are blooming just like the flowers. In winter, they were pale, with their 10€ fake wool sweaters, but now there are all manner of colors, many with bold prints and much cotton. Things have been purchased, though I'm not sure the one size fits all is a good long term solution. The vintage stores have also been abundant, as I get over my life long dislike of going into a store that has no other customers. Ice cream stores, creperies, cafes, waffle shops and sushi restaurants are all dusting off and opening up, getting ready for visitors. I love walking through when the market people are setting up in the morning, it's a s though they're preparing for a party. And it's sad seeing them breaking down and packing up, one never wants the fun to end. Not minutes after they've shipped out, the sweepers, vacuum cleaners and hoses are out in the squares, and soon after that, tables and chairs put out for a whole other interactive performance that lasts until the wee hours of the morning. It is a city in constant movement, always with an eye for maximum leisure. 

The other side of more markets is that it's getting a little crowded, both with more vendors and people visiting, admiring the local handiwork. The big items seem to be callisons (the diamond shaped almond sweet things that I don't really understand), madeleines (there must be a tiktok about the madeleine place because I've tried them and they're nothing special but even in the middle of winter there was always a long line) anything with lavender, striped Marseillaise shirts, olive wood, and smelly things - perfume, soap, candles. On any given day, you will see groups of people led by some bored sod, holding a stick in front of him or herself, taking turns looking at the sky and their phone.

Erica was kind enough to leave me with the MFK Fisher book about Aix, Two Towns in Provence, that some of you recommended. Fisher's passion for the city has helped me define mine, and I have taken such pleasure in details, perhaps also in part because I know I'll only be enjoying them for another month. I meet weekly to speak only French with a local woman named Carole who has become my friend.  After we'd had our apero last Tuesday, there was still that evening light that reflects so perfectly off the golden buildings here, so we took to roaming the streets and ended up in this square that I see everyone taking photographs of.  It's picturesque with buildings on three sides and a pretty fountain in the middle. Well, turns out that people were taking photographs because it used to be Aix' legalized red light district, the only visual sign remaining are the wrought iron balconies, which Carole pointed out to me. We had a good laugh. In French, of course.

. See upper balcony

I was lucky enough to have a visit from Brita, who lives in London. A landscape architect, she wanted to see a certain private garden in St. Etienne, so we got in our old lady outfits and headed northwest, stopping first in Lex Baux-de-Provence on a very windy day. It is a medieval town lucky enough to still have a ramming rod, though it's not clear to me what good it would be doing inside the gates. It also has a giant catapult that looked recently updated. There were views of the Rhone valley with olives and grapes on one side, swish swimming pools on the other. I was reminded of my usually grateful daughter, back in the awkward teenage years. We had been in Tuscany, perhaps not even a week, and she said "How many of these hill towns with churches are we going to have to visit?". which we laughed about forever, but you know what? She has a point. One of the problems is that they aren't places where people live anymore, they exist only for the likes of us, taking our panoramic photographs and having an overpriced café creme with a view. 

Take 40, top of les Baux-de-Provence

---

Les Baux

House/garden  we went to visit, this doesn't do it justice at all

On we went to St. Etienne, where we met with the owner of the house and garden, along with the young gardener who had implemented all Brita's friend's ideas. There is actually only one bit of lawn in an otherwise intoxicatingly natural setting, with pine trees on two sides up on a hill, a pasture and meadows. It was the sort of house I'd never be able to see had we not had these kind people to show us around.

Today I went to Salon-de-Provence because the google image of the town looked compelling enough for me to take the half hour bus ride. I looked up a hike, but when I got there, it turns out that it was along a highway and under high tension wire, so I ended up walking along a hydro electric canal. But it was still nice to be somewhere new and stretch my legs and be in the warm sun. As always, I was so happy to get back to Aix, reminding me of the feeling of putting on my favorite piece of clothing. There's somehow always a celebratory atmosphere. The light on the yellow buildings, and the way voices bounce off the stone, giving it a feeling of always being a low key cocktail party, continue to enchant me.

A nod to Iris Apfel