July 1, 2022
“So it goes on, a lament for a simpler, cheaper, less crowded world that may or may not have existed except in nostalgic memories. What the nostalgians either forget or ignore is that everywhere in the world has been changing, often for the better…..Provence has been spared the worst of the rush into the twenty-first century. There are, of course, new buildings of livid pink concrete, that have none of the charm of old Provencal architecture. And, if your determined, you can always find a Big mac or a magnum of Coca-Cola. Modernity in its various forms is usually available. But people come and come again to Provence for other reasons, most of which have not changed at all.”
- Peter Mayle, My Twenty-five years in Provence
Colleen is always kind when she reads my posts. So, she made it through the last one and sighed, “Well, that was a long one…good, but long”
She is right of course. There was so much to see and tell about that I went on way to long. I think their were even too many pictures.
But, I have a story to tell and I will endeavor to be more succinct.
This is the story of our last day in Provence and just one town. It is likely, of all the lovely villages we have seen, the prettiest.
This is Vaison-la-Romaine. It lies in the middle of the Provencal wine country.
To understand Vaison you have to begin here, on these 2,000 year old streets. Like many places in Provence, this old town started across the river as a Roman colony. Only about 10% of the ruins have been excavated. The rest lies under the town.
This is a main street with shops that lined the road.
Most houses were directly on the street laid out in the typical Roman fashion of a North/South road connected with an East/West lane.
Here you find the lay out of large manor homes, baths , and even public latrines.
As in most Roman cities you will find a theatre, This one was being set up for a large concert. It seats 6,000 which was just about the population of the city at the height of its Roman years.
Rome would begin to fall around 300AD. Barbarians, which were anyone that did not speak Latin, raided and drove the Romans out.
The population fled to the hills above and across the river. There they held on and progressed into the medieval era in this fortified village. And in these dark times they promptly forgot the engineering methods of the Romans and would raid buildings to build structures.
The evidence of this behavior are these capitals from Roman columns used to shore up this 11th century church.
So today, you have the lower town, which gradually came back over the decades and across a Roman bridge the upper medieval town.
Today, you are left with the legacy of that history with storybook lanes of old buildings, bursting with flowers and shining in the diamond clear sun. Old fountains seep potable water from century old wells. Vistas show you endless grape vineyards, Cherry trees, stately cypress, and lack pines. The air smells of lavender.
The mistral wind gently blows the heat away. The church is the only clock you have with its tolling bell. It would not seem odd to you if Galadriel herself was running the local cafe.
It is ancient. It is beautiful. It is Illyria.
You walk slowly hand in hand through the cobblestone streets and try to absorb the exquisite beauty around you.
And it was our last day in Provence.
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