Bonjour from Provence. We picked up our rental car from Marseille railway station and drove our diminutive vehicle through the breathtaking viticultural countryside to the tiny village of Caromb.
It’s a beautiful old town, oozing with culture and history. We’ve been spending most of our days lazing by the pool. We alternatively meander into the quiet village to sample patisseries, beers and wines.
We’ve taken turns cooking an evening meal. It’s Roger’s opportunity tonight to cook Spanish Tortilla.
We begin with some baguette, cheese and local wine, and we usually end the night with some party games and more wine. Oh it’s tough. I’m not sure how I’ll mange for four more weeks.
We drove up to the top of Mont Ventoux today. We passed by hundreds of sweating, puffing cyclists on the journey. It seems to be a pilgrimage for them to follow the traditional route of the Tour De France to the iconic ski station at the summit.
I visited the memorial to Tommy Simpson at the summit and soaked up the atmosphere. It was a highlight so far for me.
I’ve looked at where the Tour has been going each day and it’s been consistently 2 or 3 hours away. I haven’t been able to drag myself away from the pool, so I’ve been watching each stage live on France 2 Television. They commentate enthusiastically in French and I’ve no idea what they are saying. I will drive to watch the stage to Salon-de-Provence on Friday before the Marseille stage on Saturday.
We’ll position ourselves to watch the important time trial which could decide this year’s final result.
I’ve only got pictures of relaxing by the pool and eating. The temperature remains constantly in the 30’s every day.
I apologize if I make you jealous. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to do this every (kiwi) winter from now on. Our summer’s are just not like this. The heat is so nice.
Au revoir for now.