hilton Liepaja hotelBut First A Bit of History
Gent hotels by Ted R. Marcus.

The Romans knew a good thing when they came, saw, and conquered Provincia Gallia Transalpina. The southeast corner of France was (and is) a land of abundant sunshine, well suited for producing wine and olive oil. And, as the first provincia outside Italy, it was an important first step in their subsequent conquest of much of Europe. Visitors interested in Roman antiquities (the earliest from around 125 BCE) will find plenty to choose from (along with remnants of the Greek colonists who got there first, in the 5th century BCE). Those not so interested in history will nonetheless marvel at the many surviving examples of Roman civil engineering prowess.

As with any place that has a storied past, Provence has numerous jumbled layers. The larger cities preserve parts of their original orderly Roman layout, surrounded by the tangled sprawl of later growth. But elsewhere you'll find bucolic countryside dotted with villages and towns that arose in the centuries after Rome fell. They stand out as white islands in a sea of green farms and vineyards. Their stone buildings and warrens of narrow cobblestoned streets huddle around the dominating village church in an enduring reflection of medieval society. It's easy to find views that seem unchanged since the 14th century.

The Renaissance and the 18th century "Enlightenment" added ornate public buildings to the mix as well as hôtels particuliers, the ornate mansions of wealthy citizens. Some of these mansions are now actual hotels that retain their period ambience. Somewhere in the 19th century, people started painting more ordinary buildings in brash, sunny colors. The modern era provides a distinctive cuisine, excellent roads, and a state-of-the-art telephone system (something a visitor rapidly comes to appreciate when booking lodgings or keeping in touch with loved ones back home). And, of course, there are oodles of poodles. In Provence, as in most of France, people love their dogs and take them everywhere, including restaurants.

Driving In Provence: It's Part of the Experience! While Provence is a wonderful place to visit, there are a few practicalities and frustrations I have to mention. The most troublesome is driving. You definitely need a car to explore all the rural delights. But as I have described, cities, towns, and villages in Provence (as in most of Europe) evolved well before the invention of the automobile. So driving in any of these places means trying to find your way through a bewildering and traffic-clotted maze of narrow one-way streets. Sometimes you can't avoid getting caught up in dead ends that challenge you to extricate your car. And you need endless vigilance to avoid hitting the pedestrians who fearlessly walk in the same place as cars because there's nowhere else to walk.

Worse than driving in cities is parking. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Even if you can find a space near where you want to go, you have to figure out the rules and restrictions. And have the proper change for the horodateurs, machines that sell timed parking permits. So your best bet is to park in one of the large public lots and walk. The old and interesting parts of the larger cities are human sized, and walking is no problem (but do look out for cars, which are guaranteed to emerge without warning-- and at full speed-- from the most unexpected places). Then go back to your car when you're ready to leave town.

Once you get out of town, it's possible to relax and enjoy the scenery-- after you've become accustomed to the ronds points, what Americans call "traffic circles" and the British call "roundabouts." In France they're as common as goat cheese. After the sheer misery of driving in town, it's true paradise to drive on the innumerable small roads (they're all paved, and clearly indicated on the Michelin maps). This is where you'll find unexpected treasures that aren't in the guidebooks. And since you usually have the road all to yourself, there's no problem pulling over for a photograph or for a leisurely picnic lunch of crusty bread from a village boulangerie and cheese, yogurt, and locally-grown fruits from the épicerie (but American-style supermarkets are, alas, increasingly supplanting the traditional specialized food stores).

hoteles en Sevilla Food and Cultural Invasion. A picnic lunch should at best be a money-saving (and calorie-saving) alternative to spending a few mid-day hours as the locals do: In a restaurant where leisurely service is a traditional way of life. It's probably a good idea to have your main meal of the day at lunch. For one thing, a mid-day menu (fixed-price meal) is often significantly cheaper than dinner, so that's the best way to enjoy good food without breaking your budget. Also, if you don't have a reasonably substantial lunch you'll probably be quite hungry by the time restaurants open for dinner at 1930. That's 7:30 pm in the French 24-hour clock-- the French like to eat rather late by American standards, and you might not leave the restaurant before 2200 (10 pm). A good lunch and a picnic dinner in your hotel room may be the best option for both your wallet and your waistline (although I did see signs in some hotels prohibiting any food in rooms).

Unfortunately, this way of life that values two-hour meals may be headed for extinction. For example, McDonald's is rapidly metastasizing throughout France, and seems to appeal to more than just the homesick American tourist. Arriving in Salon de Provence at lunch time, I saw hordes of students from a lycée (high school) wolfing down fast food American style at the McDonald's across the street. It's not hard to predict what sort of preferences they'll have when they reach adulthood. It's almost enough to make an American feel embarrassed about how this imported culinary kudzu is strangling French culture.

Admittedly, for the tired traveller, McDonald's offers clean toilets. And cold "Coca-Cola Light." This and "Pepsi Max" were unexpected delights-- these French versions of diet cola taste infinitely better than their American counterparts. Perhaps this fact offers a glimmer of hope that the French will adapt American culture in their own way rather than allowing the American "Borg" juggernaut to assimilate them outright.

© Peter D'Aprix

©Ted R. Marcus

©Ted R. Marcus