Aix marks the spot where Cezanne painted

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Aix-en-Provence is known as the Paris of the south and a stunning city but we delayed our anticipated visit there when the weather turned stormy. We had whizzed through it on the way to Cassis, so ithe trip did not seem too daunting. We know the spots where we took wrong turns and how to avoid tolls if we want to. Nevertheless, with only a few days left in this area, last night we almost balked! So many things to see, stories of impossible parking, my inability to walk long distances, especially uphill, and the tricks that Google maps plays all conspired to make us hesitate. Loic, our host, used to live in Aix, but a little like a native speaker trying to help a language beginner, he doesn’t understand our challenges and airily tells it will all be fine!

Aix is Cezanne territory. His house and studio, grave and other significant places are all here, but how to order the trip to see what we want? Eventually we decided to head for his studio and trust our luck or guidance. We can’t be the only people wanting to get there (which thought came back to bite us when we saw the crowd) and it is too beautiful a day not to go somewhere. After an uneventful drive (that's the goal) Google took us straight past the entrance and up another road which was a long way from the entrance unless we climbed a wall! Thanks Google. And you don’t want to hear about the nature stop when we got desperate!

The house and studio has a Tuscan look, with warm yellow walls and dull pink shutters, and is embraced all around with olive and fig trees. When we saw the crowd sitting outside we knew it would be hard to get in, but went to the counter to buy our tickets anyway. We heard the slightly frazzled young man explain to the people in front of us that they could buy tickets but would have to come back in an hour or two! That was not going to happen for us, so it was time for the friendly Australian interchange in fractured French! We told him we had come a long way, and asked if he had been to Australia. With much eye rolling and hand gestures he told us a convoluted story about going to Thailand on three planes, and that was enough, let alone as far as Australia! Or something like that. I managed to tell him that we had travelled for trois jours and his eyes opened wide. We felt that we had made enough of a spectacle of ourselves by then so Peter said with a wink that we would have a look around and come back and the guy said twenty mins max - and that’s what happened. We got in!

Only 19 people are allowed to go up the stairs at once to the studio, and there were several bus loads waiting. I have no idea how it was organised and I don’t think booking online would have made any difference! So we were in Paul Cezanne's purpose-built studio, complete with his amazing easel and ladder, a leather backpack, shirts, a deck chair and a bunch of his umbrellas. There were artefacts from his time, and some reconstructed still life arrangements. I have very little art background, but in year 9 my art teacher was an artist in Heidelberg, Ian Hassall, and the only thing I remember was him teaching us was about Cezanne and getting us to paint in his style. So it was like a full circle to be in the studio. Peter is my personal art tour guide, and he explained how Cezanne with his painting style was the catalyst for the move away from the impressionists to the modern era. We continue to love being in the actual places where these amazing people lived and worked.

I really enjoy people watching, and I sat at a table under the trees outside Cezanne's studio and looked at the range of visitors. At my table was a Japanese girl with a modern bob haircut and red glasses, with her arm curled around what she was working on. She was painting a watercolour from a picture on her phone, and everything was miniature. Her notebook was A6 size, filled with paintings and sketches, her watercolour box would fit in a small purse and she was using the lid of her water bottle to dip her brush. Her work was exquisite and drew a little crowd of mainly Japanese admirers, who nodded and smiled and whispered politely. It was an enchanting scene. Then there were some Americans with a strong southern accent, loudly discussing the state and inadequacy of the single and very ancient bathroom facility! There were also a couple of busloads of tour groups and I could recognise Chinese being spoken. there were a surprising number of young Asian males, all wearing caps, shirts hanging out over designer jeans and sneakers and completely absorbed in their phones. We quite enjoy watching people as they speak and noticing the lip shapes of different languages; French is very distinctive and includes a lot of chin, eyebrow and lip movements. We Aussies tend not to move our mouth very much!

Another long hike up Les Lauves hill was beyond me, so I relaxed in the garden, writing, while Peter headed for the terraces where Cezanne used to paint Sainte Victoire mountain, the highest peak in the distance (Between 1902 and 1906 Cezanne painted 17 times in watercolour and 11 times in oil). There are reproductions of some of the paintings on glazed lava stone. Peter saw some beautiful views and did a quick sketch, which he humbly claims that Cezanne would be proud of! For some reason his step count on his phone is about twice mine!

Following Loic's directions (which actually worked in the end) we made it into a parking station so we could explore the beautiful city. All the guide books say to eat somewhere on the tree-lined boulevard of Cours Mirabeau, and that we did, enjoying our omelettes and juice while an accordion-playing busker entertained us. I think that little lunch transaction was entirely in French, so we high fived. It really was a very relaxed sweet spot in a perfect day in Aix. I have never seen so many cute fluffy dogs, mainly being carried, draped over their owners' arms. In every direction there are magnificent fountains and statues and this famous concourse has all the high end brand shops, which are of no great interest to us!

Staying in theme, we headed for the Musee Granet, where amongst an impressive collection of works including Rubens and others, they have nine Cezannes hanging in a special collection. “The Bathers” is one that I recognise (the smaller study which preceded the larger, famous one - he had to make a slit in the wall to get that one out of his studio!) and my favourite was a vibrant still life. I was also drawn by the display of his paint boxes and very last palette, complete with a big blob of ochre coloured oil paint. I asked Peter what his last palette would look like... he didn’t seem impressed with the question. I think he will have an ever fresh palette in heaven!

Suddenly a very bad feeling came over me in waves and I began to sweat. I sat in the middle of the Cezanne room and weighed my options. Why did our French lessons not include “Excuse me, I think I am going to throw up. Is there a better place than right next to a priceless painting?” The female gallery guards looked intimidating in their black uniforms so when the feeling did not pass I somehow found my own way out of the gallery maze to a courtyard where I could breathe deeply and not bother anyone if the worst happened.

With the help of a Zantac that Peter dug up from his backpack, I recovered sufficiently to face the drive home. Even getting out of a parking station can be exciting and as we sat at the barrier trying to push the ticket into every slot, the guy behind wound down his window and yelled “La, la, la! Monsieur! As it turned out, he was not singing, but telling us “There!” It was a scanner and we got out. Google treated us to some of our hairiest narrow back roads so far, which seemed to be a rat run in the evening peak hour - except they were all coming towards us at high speed. Why do the French not spend a little more to widen roads to take two cars, and maybe a little bit of white paint down the middle?! We would love to have gone to Aix more than once to do it justice, but that may be it for now. Our two weeks in Lourmarin is nearly up. One of the most important travel lessons: enjoy what you see and do and don't regret what you don’t because tomorrow there are new adventures.

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Photos

The multicultural crowd waiting to get into the studio.
Some waited ages and then we were all sent out at 12.30 when they closed for lunch! It was a miracle that we got in.

In the steps of Cezanne
On the terraces of Las Fauves with Sainte Victoire mountain behind. A favourite spot of Cezanne's.