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I was sweating and feeling nervous as I cautiously climbed and descended yet more stone steps, going from pitch black to blinding sunlight as I emerged into the 2000 year old arena in Arles. But I was grateful that I was just looking and I wasn’t being pursued by a lion or any wild animal, or about to pit myself against a roaring bull! I could almost feel the remnant of fear in the underground passages and holding areas.
Roman arenas are stunning structures, and the one in Arles is the 20th in size in the world and bigger than the famous one in Nîmes. As always, I am fascinated by the thought of how many bums have sat on the well worn seats and climbed the tiers over the centuries. It is still used for entertainment today. The passageways were called vomitoires as those who overindulged often didn’t make it outside in time! The information also tells us that the exits were constructed so that when the crowds left the arena after the entertainment, the various classes of people did not have to interact. It must work because I met no one of a lower class than me today!
A perfect sunny day today demanded a major excursion, although in European terms, that just meant a 25 km drive to Arles, the city with the first bridge over the impressive Rhone River and an important stop on the Roman route from Italy to Spain. Today it is famous for being where Van Gogh left a piece of his ear in the late 1800s, and there is a trail of cement easels in the city with reproductions of famous paintings of his in the relevant spots. The old town is an easily accessible pedestrian delight, with a warren of curving streets contained within the remnants of the Roman wall and the modern day charm of boutiques, galleries and artisan eating places. Easy to while away the time and for getting lost, which we do quite often!
With our usual frugal travel style, however, we were probably the only people in Arles today who sat on a Roman stone and ate sourdough bread from our boulangerie with Vegemite and cheese for lunch, followed by a croissant with local cherry jam and then a chunk of pistachio nougat! We are actually eating very well with our market purchases, and alternate
with restaurant meals occasionally.
We find that we often enjoy Rick Steve’s travel information and he has a set of notes that go with a mapped walk around Arles, following, of course, Van Gogh. In 2007 we saw some of Arles very briefly, so we were ready to enjoy a more leisurely day of exploration. Bracing ourselves for the parking battle, we were shocked and pleased to be able to park in a perfect spot at the start of the trail after a cruisy drive - good to find that it is not always difficult, or else we are getting better at planning. It only cost a euro per hour. The first marker on the trail is the Yellow House where VG did his well known painting of his funny shaped bedroom - the small house has long gone (bombed in 1944) but the building behind is still there. VG would be startled to see buses full of tourists pulling up to look at something that isn’t even there! In his day, his house was close to the fields and orchards that he loved to paint. Now it is next to the Monoprix supermarket...
Entering the remains of
the medieval city gate, we started the uphill meander towards the arena. As Steves helpfully puts it, “speeding cars enjoy Arles' medieval lanes, turning sidewalks into tightropes and pedestrians into leaping targets”! I am not greatly into leaping these days, so we tried to stay at the edge near the never-ending rows of shops, enjoying gazing up at the ancient building shapes and preserved old shutters against the Provençal blue sky. We were early - actually ahead of the crowds this morning and the cafes were still opening up and setting tables and the local dogs and cats being shoved out of the restaurants to make way for the coming tourists.
VG was quite lonely in Arles and he searched this main street for bars and brothels in his self-destructive lifestyle. It is still a colourful area, lacking the gracious tree lined boulevards of other cities. But all the way up the hill of Rue Cavalerie and Rue Voltaire we could see the Roman Arena shimmering in the sun as it rose higher and we had to pull out hats and sunscreen. VG's painting of the arena is well known and captures the crowds of people milling on the
Arles from the tower at the arena
At one stage in its history, the arena surrounded a crowd of ordinary houses. steps rather than the bulls in the arena. And so we climbed and walked, Peter heading, as always, for the highest point on the tower for the views.
The afore mentioned sandwiches were eaten then outside the ancient Roman theatre, and Peter took the long route via the summer gardens to find the next easel, while I took the easier route down the hill to St Trophime Church in the République Square. More steps to climb up the fine Romanesque entrance, and somehow get past a woman begging at the door. Perhaps because this was one of the free sights of the day, Peter succumbed and gave her some money on the way out. Quite stunning things to see inside, but I, like weary pilgrims on their way to the Camino walk who call in here, needed to rest so sat down to look at the understated interior and lovely windows and pray. We knew that back home our beloved Life Group would be gathering right at that time without us, so we prayed for them in the quietness.
There were several school groups in Arles while we were there - amazing for them to have real life
excursions instead of reading it all in a book! Generally the groups were well behaved, but we kept running into a large group from Italy, who were excited and noisy and charging through the narrow lanes. In the end we could hear them coming and turned off in a different direction to avoid the stampede. Much though I loved my school kids, I was glad to be just looking after Peter and not forty or so ice cream fuelled kids!
Peter managed to get to most of the other easels, including the yellow cafe, which I have seen before and I wended my now weary way in the general direction of the mighty Rhone river, knowing that the promenade beside it would take me back to the car park. Slightly daunted by the 15 narrow marble steps that faced me when I got to the water, I very carefully climbed yet more steps without a rail and made it to the top without stumbling or plunging into the murky water. A Dutch tourist at the top watched me all the way (although offered no help) and told me to be careful. I thought I was!
Waiting in the
park near the car for Peter (who just had to see one more VG...) I watched a group of older men gather, gesticulate, talk very loudly and then begin to reach into the saddle bags of their push bikes. It was pétanque time - played with great enthusiasm with their silver balls and egged on by some younger lads watching them. They rolled and threw the balls and argued and yelled Bravo quite often. I wondered what the strings were that they held, and then saw that they had magnets on the end so that they could pick up their metal balls with bending over! I could just about feel those aching backs! A wonderful little cameo of French life that has been happening a long time, I suspect.
One of VG's most famous paintings is Starry Night, which was painted in St Remy. There is another Starry Night, over the Rhone River in Arles, and this easel is just near where we parked. Amazingly, he was the first to paint outside in the dark and actually put candles in the brim of his hat so he could see (don’t you try that Peter!). He did this painting on
his last night in Arles and then left for St Remy, as we were about to do after yet another full day, rich with beauty and history, soaked in sunshine.
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Kerryn Graham
non-member comment
Thanks for the read
So while I'm at home tucked up in my bed feeling very unwell and taking a sickie, I get to go to France!! Oh happy day!!