Exhibition: Cézanne au Jas de Bouffon, Jour de la Bastille, Winery Tour, & Opera: La Calisto

My first night at Estudines Mirabeau, which is a student residence for most of the year, I realised that the bed was hard enough that I had to wrap the quilt around me - at the end of the night, however, I realised that not even that was enough, so for the rest of my stay I doubled the quilt up and slept on top of both layers. It was warm enough to do that, and that, at last, was soft enough that I didn't feel as though I was falling apart next morning. Which does make it an improvement on Aldstadt Hotel Zurich, where I had to ask for a second quilt, and sleep on top of both, doubled up.. that still holds the record for the hardest bed I've ever had the misfortune to sleep on.

Out then on the 13th, as was to become the norm, to a baking hot day. With no definite plan, my companion, who turns out to be a big fan of Cézanne, suggested we head to the big exhibition about him at the Musée Granet, which used to be the art school he attended - and so we headed in that direction. Heading along Rue Cardinale, we actually discovered ourselves on a "Cézanne trail", with plaques along the route! (He was born here, and the region maximises its connection to him):

En route, we passed the Hotel de Gallifet, an arts centre which turned out to have yet another Cézanne exhibition - Echoes of Cézanne, featuring works inspired by him. There was also a cafe, where we thought we might eat later - but it turned out the kitchen was closing at 2.15, so that wasn't an option. We did stay for the exhibition:

Of course, with my fascination for horror, I would have a fondness for skull paintings:

Honestly though, it was a bit sparse, and not really worth the entrance fee - they did have an interesting-looking interactive exhibit where you could chat with Cézanne, in your chosen language! We didn't bother. In the basement, we discovered a brief film entitled Still Life - it took us a while to figure out where the light switches were, but when they're activated, the film starts automatically. The camera is pointed at a bowl of fruit, appropriately - and what it is, is a sped-up visual of the fruit gradually rotting. I tell you, I will never look at a bowl of fruit in the same way again.. Anyway, this exhibition runs to the 28th of September.

And so on to the Musée Granet.. I do love the odd, scattered history plaque you find along the way!

By the time we got to the Place des Quatre Dauphins (Square of the Four Dolphins), we could see, in the distance, the Église de Saint Jean de Malte (Church of St. John of Malta), which, it transpires, is right beside the museum:

As we approached, we came across a queue - yes, it was for the museum. And after we'd waited in the queue for a bit, and made our way to the top - lo and behold, we were told we should already have bought a ticket! Now, that's something they should have put on a sign at the beginning of the queue - anyway, we hung around near the top of the queue and tried to navigate their atrocious website.. one of the ushers eventually took pity on us and did it for us. She sympathised because it was in French - as I retorted, the problem wasn't the language, it was the difficulty of navigating the site.. Happily, they provided us with folding seats, we were there so long. In due course, the tickets were confirmed, and supposed to come by email. I'm not sure they ever did - the ushers gave up on waiting and took our confirmation as proof enough. Through a security check then, and as we went in, we were told we should wear our bags in front, rather than on our backs, to ensure the protection of the paintings.

Well, this is a painting of his father. There were lots of them, in which he was generally reading something:

His mother:

His sister - who may or may not have liked hanging upside-down, like a bat:

Other people:

This brought back memories of that short film - might be where the filmmaker got the idea!

Lots of pictures painted around Jas de Bouffan ("Jas", around these parts, means a house), where he lived for a long time. The exhibition runs to the 12th of October. But ultimately, you know, I'm not such a huge fan of his work - honestly, I liked it much better when we carried on through to the permanent collection, and saw other people's work:

Done with that - and rather weary - we headed for lunch at the nearest place open and that suited, Le Forbin. Where the wine was decent, and the chicken schnitzel edible, although a bit tough. And throughout, we were serenaded by the plaintive notes of a violin, being played by a young man down the road.

Now, my companion hadn't eaten much there, and so, for later, having had a look online, suggested a French place called La Bouchée. Where we wandered along - I wasn't hungry, after such a big lunch, but accompanied her. Sitting inside - always a good idea, for the aircon - we had an interestingly sited table, right over a wine tower:

I wasn't hungry, but the menu stated that customers should have at least a main course, or two starters - not seeing enough starters that I fancied, I chose a main that sounded tasty, at least.. quail with a pistachio filling. Well, I have to say, it was so good, I wolfed it down. One of those memorable meals.. and with the wine, we had a lovely evening. Officially closing at 11, still, they were in no rush to kick us out, and we stayed well past that. I think it's just that you have to have ordered by then.

Last Monday was Bastille Day - and would you believe, I didn't remember until I got there! Another scorcher of a day, and we sought shade wherever we could - such as the pleasantly shaded Les Allées shopping area:

..which leads to La Rotonde, the fountain and roundabout in the centre of town:

We headed to the similarly named brasserie for lunch:

..where I had some rather salty, and expensive, calamari. With nothing much else to do for the day, we sourced a restaurant for the evening, and repaired back to our aparthotel. And in due course, headed out to Le Ramus, which wasn't taking bookings after 4.45. I headed there in time for it, but my companion decided she'd come a bit later - and wooh, that temperature hadn't decreased! Walking there was like walking into an oven.

Happily, we'd booked an inside table - again, for the aircon:

The menus are on chalkboards - and yay, the staff speak English, and the other side of the chalkboard is actually in English! So, I thought the duck in honey sauce sounded good, and had that - and good it was.. wow, it's years since I had duck!

We'd had some trouble finding out what festivities were on in town - we knew there was a concert on the Cours Mirabeau, and schlepped over there for a while, securing a spot near the stage: but it turned out just to be a dj, and we gave up after a while and wended our way slowly home. With none of the nearby cafes willing to give over space just for drinks, or even ice cream, we were all the way back at La Rotonde before we came to Estello, where they agreed that we were fine, just with drinks. And we sat inside again, for the aircon.

The celebrations were just getting underway, though:

Now, as it transpired, the fireworks display was scheduled to happen - on the terrace of the Grand Théatre de Provence, right across from us! We had to wend our way through the crowds to get home - where we caught the end of the concert from Paris on the telly. And then the local fireworks started - complete with a booming soundtrack, and we weren't the only ones out on the balcony to watch and listen!

I tell you, I've never seen the like in Ireland - they know how to put on a show, here! A terrific end to the day - and then we saw another classical concert on tv, right after the first - apparently staged, also in Paris, the day before. We had a great night.

Tuesday was a busy one - we had booked a winery tour with Get Your Guide, which started at lunchtime and lasted the afternoon. Glad not to have too early a start, out we went to meet them outside the Tourist Office. The company running the tour is actually A la Francaise. Our guide told me she'd spent some time in Ireland, studying English.. also on our minibus, one of two, we had an American family of five. The tour took us out to Cézanne country.. and while we had photostops, it was uncomfortable to spend much time outdoors in the heat!

The mountain that features prominently in many photographs, as in many of his paintings, is the Mont Sainte Victoire - as our guide told us, this name doesn't refer to a real saint, but was just a moniker applied by the Catholic Church to replace the "pagan" name that previously commemorated battles:

The cross visible on top is the Croix de Provence:

And so down to the lush vineyards of the valley:

As our guide explained to us, our first stop would be at a relatively young vineyard, the Jas Monges - where we were taken into the shop for a brief introduction, given by the father of this family business, whose son accompanied us throughout, ready to step in when needed. 

We were taken on a tour of the vats, shown the equipment used and had it explained to us:

(Apparently, the old man's daughter-in-law designed the label.)

And there followed a very pleasant drinking session in a covered area to the side - water was provided, and a spittoon if you didn't want any more of something. As the wine flowed, the conversation eased - the occupants of the other minibus were American too, and all very friendly. Only quibble - there were no nibbles, no cheese n crackers. Which, from experience, we would have expected.. but the white was lovely, the red light, and even the rosé didn't give me a headache, as it normally does!

And so on to the winery next door - Mas de Cadenet, as our guide explained, was a much older establishment. 

And it showed in the equipment:

We also learned a little about the family:

..and the rooms are just so atmospheric!

Everywhere we went, we were accompanied by the friendliest dog! A great hit with the kids:

More wine tasting followed, amidst gorgeous scenery. I tended to prefer the Jas Monges wines myself - in particular, the first red we tried at Mas de Cadenet was, I found, very heavy. The second, however, was yum.. and again, no nibbles. Except what you could buy in the shop - which we did.

So, a lovely afternoon - but at nearly €100 per person, perhaps overpriced for what it was.

Well, of course, we arrived back in Aix hungry - I headed off to Le Darius again, where again, I had their meat dish of the day - on Tuesday, it was bavette of beef, which I asked for medium - it came a little rare for my liking, and I didn't finish it. I sat inside for once, for the aircon - oh Lordy, did I regret it. I got an arrogant young idiot male waiter, who completely ignored me - I was on my own, my companion not fancying the menu and having left. I'm guessing the fact that I was on my own worked against me - perhaps he figured a single person wouldn't tip so highly. He was right on this occasion - after I'd ordered a second glass of wine (they pour small glasses here), and asked for the dessert menu, I watched as he took orders from two tables with couples, and they received their orders - I had not received my wine, just the menu. When he finally deigned to notice I existed, I tersely asked for the bill. He asked me what was wrong, I explained - and his response? "We're busy - I can't serve you before everyone else - this is how it is in France!" No, but you don't have to serve me last either. But I didn't bother to argue, just paid in cash and left no tip. And I'll never be back.

That evening, we were due to go to La Calisto in the Théatre de l' Archveché - a middling-length walk away. My companion took a while to get ready, so we were a little late - not much, but late enough that our entry was delayed, and we had to wait for a suitable gap, and for the ushers to come and lead us in.

The theatre itself is in a courtyard, and you pass through the surrounding buildings to gain access. Now, as tends to happen with latecomers, we weren't shown to the seats we'd booked - which (ahem) happened to be in the balcony, a specially erected stand. Oh no.. we were seated in the front of the rear stalls.. which, of course, was a lot closer. Indeed, at the interval, having seen swathes of free seats in the front stalls, why, we just went and sat down there instead! And nobody batted an eyelid. And that is how, upon paying €36 for tickets, we got €96 seats.. so that worked out rather well..

We were outdoors, of course - and it was still hot, all night. Our comfort was greatly improved by a breeze that wafted, from time to time, over the rooftops, rustling the leaves of the tree to the side of the stage.

The production was terrific - they'd chosen to wear 18th century costumes, referring to the decadence at the end of the Ancien Régime, as it suggested in the programme. The story concerns Jupiter, who - as is his wont - takes a mistress: in this case Calisto, who, to be fair, doesn't even know it's him, as he comes disguised as his daughter, Diana, whom she worships. It all comes out, of course, and Jupiter's furious and long-suffering wife, Juno, wreaks a terrible revenge on Calisto - whereupon he restores her dignity by placing her among the stars in the sky. 

Jupiter is a merry character, and there's a deal of humour in it, with various hellraisers running around. The costumes are beautiful - and as my companion remarked, it makes such a lovely change to see people make the effort. And the singing is terrific - with special mention for Juno, who sings the most heartbreaking aria upon discovering that her husband has been unfaithful yet again. Really, this was the highlight of the festival for me. 

And on the way home, in the warm, at nearly 1am, we passed many merrymakers, and some open bars. But we were homeward bound.

More to come..