France 105 St Remy de Provence/Princess Caroline of Monaco/Those pesky romans and Glanum /A night of Acorns

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Suzy spent the night avoiding acorns. We had planned to stop at a campsite that was on a lake , had a restuarant overlooking the lake and had views of the mountains . The reality proved a little different . Vive la difference I say. We landed at a Flower camping site and the place was shut up not opening until 3pm. Taking the opportunity for a quick look around we parked up, noticed we could not see the lake nor the restuarant and there was not a glimpse of said mountain. We sat awhile waiting for reception to open taking the chance for a drink, a plunge into our sweet stack and a read . I am now nearly at the end of the second Game of Thrones book and we have munched our way through Peppermint Chews, Dairy Fudge and some Sherbert Lemons. The receptionist turned up at 3, I paid , she told me that the restaurant and the lake were beyond the trampolines. I think something was lost in translation as I am sure she said it was 20 minutes walk away.

After paying we sat again and then BANG . A loud bang on top of Suzy. We ignored it until BANG again when we went out to discover the wind had got up and we were underneath huge oak trees full of acorns. If we stayed we risked a) being kept up all night with the constant banging, b) damaging Suzy's roof and c) damaging the solar panel. Decision made we moved. This time avoiding the oak trees but we were closer to a manky old caravan. The sort you see pitched up for years on end and added to by the season. After a while a man turned up and started working on it so it was time to move again. This time right in a corner, on our own so we could play billy no mates perfectly. From our third spot we saw the yellow tinge of the plage, the blue hint of the lake and yes there were mountains in the distance. This area is famous for walking, for cycling for winter pursuits. All in all it was a lovely area in a pretty part of France.

Some time late we were disturbed by an addition. A big motorhome which had the whole park to park up in but parked right next to us and they kept looking in our windows. Why do people herd together I wonder? We just wanted to be left alone with our books, our sweets and our dreams. Later that night a hairy biker turned up on a big red machine and he spent his night sleeping au natural under the stars in his sleeping bag. It was hot enough to do that .

The next day we headed for St Remy. I had never been before but Glenn had visited some 40 years ago so much had changed. He rather liked being there as he hoped to see Princess Caroline of Monaco who had a house there. Sadly he was thwarted. The light is lovely here, the sun burns down and creates light colours . It is easy to see why the painters flocked here and how Impressionism grew as a genre. You just cannot fail to be impressed by the colours and the way the light falls on the houses and the trees.

Our first stop was Glanum as it was known by the pesky Romans who colonised this part of Gaul. Glenns memories were somewhat tinted with time and he remembered clearly being impressed by the mausoleum and the triumphal arch known as Les Antiques. He knew there was parking and this had increased over the intervening years. We parted with 4 euros which gave us 4 hours to see Les Antiques , to go over to see the ruins of the city and perhaps go to the cloistered gardens where Van Gogh painted. We stood in front of the mausoleum and I can honestly say I have seen nothing like it. It is impressive with friezes around the four sides. The condition of the monument is nothing short of fantastic and I spent a great deal of time just walking round and round it clicking away like a madman. The triumphal arch like the abbey at St Antoine is short and stocky but neverless equally impressive and as good as any I have seen in the Roman world.

Across the road lay Glanum itself described as a city undiscovered for 17 centuries. A little like Pompeii it lay hidden. In the 16th and 17th centuries visitors came to admire the arch and mausoleum but had no idea the roman city existed. It began life as a Gaulish settlement whose inhabitants became rich trading with the Greeks, At some point it was colonised during the reign of Augustus. It fell by 260AD and was abandoned as were many Roman strongholds . In 1921 the digging began and slowly but surely the city became uncovered. It housed basilicas, a forum not as impressive as Rome but not a bad effort. The long street was lined with shops and warehouses and shrines. We compared it with Rome and with Pompeii . Not on such a grand school but it was well worth the 7 euro 50 entry fee as there were fewer people than in either Rome or Pompeii and there was a good deal to see . We climbed the belverdere in the scorching heat and looked over the site which is impressive. The shiny slabs of the street were full of fossilised sea creatures and shells . I doubt many spotted them but given I always try to watch my feet I was sure to see them. We walked past the bathhouse and saw everything a Roman could possibly want in his roman stronghold.

After our visit we drove back through the town to our night stop the unfortunately sounding campsite Bastide. On the way though we found another which proved slightly less of a walk into town. In this heat we needed as little walking as possible. The down side it was not ACSI and they gave no discounts . We decided to pay the 23 euros 40 and grin and bear the cost . The site was big but not overcrowded. The plots large and well shaded with both trees and bamboo hedges 20 foot high. Mallow flowers were growing to a height of 10 feet. We drove round and the problem rears its head when there is so much choice. You cannot decide where to go. In the end we picked a plot set up and sat out. Before long a British lady popped her head round and welcomed us. She loved the site, she came often either on her way to or on her way back from Spain. She even popped this way round when she visited her son in Annecy. She extolled the beauty of the town saying it was the nicest in France.

As the evening progressed we walked in trying to find shade under the many trees and the shade of the houses. It was not easy . At 7 it was still over 30 degrees with no sign of the temperature dropping. We arrived in town and took in the many alleyways. We had expected something like Sarlat with its golden coloured stone but sadly there was nothing. There were shops some of them selling cheap tat others more expensive tat. There were more restuarants and cafes than you could shake a stick at. We walked to the church but it was on any impressive scale. Tomorrow there will be market here . I wonder if it will be anything like the market we saw at Arles which stretched for mile after mile. Stalls selling all manner of fruit, vegetables, meat and bread, Pies and clothes and brocante or junk in our language. There is a fish market on a Thursday. The smells were delightful , the smells of the cooking, of the lavender in bags, in boxes and the soaps. Their heady scent was everywhere. Not a bad place but it didnt have the charm I had come to expect from Provenical towns. We found a restuarant for dinner. Empty when we arrived it quickly filled as if the buses had just pulled in . We ordered the set menu at 19 euros each, sitting first under the umberellas on the noisy car filled street corner drinking cokes before starting on the obligatory wine . Well you have to have the wine don't you? We chose the 19 euros menu which consisted of a starter of salad. Salade Italienne for Glenn - lots of lettuce as always, tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella. I chose the hot goats cheese and not a bad choice. The main course was a choice of salmon or grilled beer with chips and a rather nice sweet potato boiled, turned into a ring and grilled . We finished off with ice cream and a Tarte pommes with chantilly cream and ice cream and coffee . Bill paid there as nothing left to us but to walk home.

We walked with a wind behind us making the night feel much cooler. Then our misfortune happened again. How many times can things go wrong? For us many. We looked at the campsite. The gate was firmly locked. There was a notice that the gates closed at 8. There was a porte pietons next door but quickly I spotted that was indeed locked and we were needing a code to get in. I racked my brains . Had I even been told this ? Had I been given a code and forgotten to bring it out? No I hadn't . How though were we getting in? We looked at the walls . Too high for either of us to shinny over . No hedges to scrape our way through. It looked as if we would have to wait for someone to enter or exit and let us in. I tried the gate again and it moved ever so slightly. Glenn pushed it. It started to open a little - just enough for me to squeeze through it. I pulled it from the other side. Glenn pushed it and he shimmied his way through. Thank goodness neither of us are on the portly side or we would have been sleeping in the hedgerow for the night.

And so to bed . It's been an eventful day. We are nowhere near the sea yet but my thought for the day seems apt. A red sun, falls into the sea, What summer heat!

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