Le Thoronet Abbey

Yesterday we visited Le Thoronet Abbey, in the Var region, just above Le Luc.  Le Luc is near the junction of two motorways, the A8 from Aix en Provence to Nice and beyond, and the A57 from Toulon.

Le Thoronet Abbey is one of three Cistercian abbeys in Provence.    The abbey was build during the 12th century, and in the early 13th century it was home to around twenty monks and a similar number of lay brothers.  Less than two centuries later the abbey began to decline, but luckily it was saved by Renoil, the architect for historic monuments, and restoration work began in 1841.   The State now owns the site, however no religious orders have lived here since the early 1800s.

The entrance to the abbey is shrouded in mystery, due to the thickly planted native trees on either side of the path.   A very dry area, and also very hot in summer.

 The small walled garden, with its ghostly tree trunks, painted white.    Very dramatic.

 The huge church, very plain and very bare, but grand with its pure and simple lines. The three arched windows in the vaulted nave symbolises the Trinity.   The sung services of the monks, were enhanced by exceptional acoustics.

 This is one of the exterior recessed tombs, the only ones of this type in Provence.

 The arches leading out into the cloister, the heart of the monastery.

 The simple passageway leads up towards the church.

 A view of the church, with the cloister in the foreground.

Some of the side rooms, in ruins, but impressive with the many curves and doorways.

 The double archways (geminate arches) with simple circular openings (oculus) at the top.

This is the chapter house where the monks assembled every morning to read a chapter of St Benedict's rules and discuss issues relating to community life.   The architecture shows gothic iinfluence.

A view from the church, back down the passage.

A fountain well encrusted by the water dripping from it.

A last look at part of the gardens with the church in the background, behind the trees.   As it was a very hot day, the contrasting shades of bright light and shade were very pronounced.

A very impressive abbey.

Gonfaron or another town in Var

We were driving along the D97 and had passed through Carnoules and Pignans.   As we entered another town, Gonfaron I think, I saw this wonderful old street ahead of me.   As the traffic lights made it into a one way street, it was going to be possible to take a photograph, without any cars spoiling the picture.  But alas, the battery dropped out of the camera, just as I was about to press the shutter.

So as not to miss a photo opportunity, I persuaded Walter to stop.    Not easy, but we eventually found a car park and I walked back to the beginning of the street.   And it was worth it.    A step back in time, except for the tarmac.

I especially liked this old boulangerie, closed of course.   When I peered inside the window there was washing hanging there.   Such a sad ending to a lovely little shop.   There was plenty of peeling paint and broken plaster on this street, as can be seen on the walls of the building next to the boulangerie. 

I looked up one of the side streets, narrow, and with the same type of buildings.  I could see that this was not the most affluent of towns, but there was plenty of character.

 And what is this?   Electricity wires attached to the houses, and within reach of some of the windows too.   Walter wondered if they used them as washing lines.

A close up shot! I must admit I did shudder when I saw the wires so close to windows.   And fairly old connections too, and the wire for each house ran down the outside of the building.    Walter maintains that he has seen this before in France, but I must have had my eyes closed.   I thought all electricty cables were now underground, in such narrow streets..

A lovely shady square, with about three terraces around the edge, which belonged to the tiny cafes and bars on the opposite side of the street.   And there were plenty of people sitting at the tables, which was good to see.   Lunch time beckoned us.  

 So we walked further along the street, to a another cafe, where we could have had aioli with mussels, which was the special on the menu, but declined and went for something different.   Walter anxiously waiting for his food.   There is an old fountain and trough in the small square, which is visible to the left of Walter.

And finally it arrived.    Camembert, cooked in the oven, accompanied with sliced white bread and raw ham, plus a green salad.    The camembert was oozing with melted cheese and olive oil.   And the surprise came when we cut into the cheese, it was filled with parsley, chopped up tomatoes and garlic.   Luckily there was plenty of bread to cut the richness of the cheese.   But I think our gall bladders workd overtime on this dish.  

And then we continued on our way, feeling very full and satisfied.    And we had no after effects either, except for a slight taste of garlic in the mouth.  Thank goodness.   A very rich lunch.  And no red wine either.

Out and about

Out and about, but not very far.   That seems to be us.   So leisurely.    Doing nothing in particular, really.   Just cruising around, enjoying life.

This quiet street in Bormes les Mimosa, with the charming shops, was the scene fifteen months ago of a madman in a small car, who sped down this street, sending people running for the lives, including my brother, Brian.    The car actually hit a woman and a dog.   It was terrifying.   So I can no longer view this seemingly benign street in quite the same way.   

St Tropheme's church, with the small windows and no air circulating inside.   But a lovely church all the same, and I enjoy attending Mass there.  

The corner, very sharp, in Bormes les Mimosa.   It is important to watch out for mad cyclists, who think they are taking part in a local Tour de France.    The cafe/restaurant on the right is a favourite for coffee.

And the view across the road to the village of Bormes le Mimosa.   Such a picturesque village.

And Bormes les Mimosa wins the award for the narrowest carparking spaces.   There is just enough room to get the car in, with a bit of manouvring, but barely enough room to then get out of the car.   Very poor design, indeed.

Ice cream time!   In our opinion, this shop has the best ice creams.   So we have been indulging, often.   We also love to sit at a table in the shade, and watch people walk by.    

Looking over the harbour of Le Lavandou, to the fish restaurants in the background.  You need to like eating fish to appreciate these restaurants.  Not all our family do!

I love the colour scheme, an overall green theme.   Very cool.

Provencial colours, reddish tinged wash on the walls, and blue shutters and doors.

A side alley, in Le Lavandou, a lovely shady spot.

Our favourite cafe, Le Centre.   How many happy hours have we spent there, coffee or aperitif time, on our own, or with family or friends.   The chairs outside, face the sun, and the people walking past.    Time for people watching, and we do too.

Another side street, also very cool and shady.   We must try the restaurant sometime.

Our favourite little hillside village, Collobrieres, where the buildings are so Provence, so picturesque, and where you seem to step back fifty years.  

And a leisurely lunch of salad, in the shade.   It is where I discovered that Creme du Marron, is a desert, not something you might spread on your bread.    Delicious too, with soft white cheese (fromage blanc).   And where we saw a little French dog, enjoying the local beef stew (daube du boeuf), which his owners ordered for him.  

This restaurant is always busy, unlike the one next door.  But no wonder, when a French waiter decided to teach Margaret a lesson by spreading mustard thickly on her ham roll, when she asked for a little mustard.   Obviously we are not the only customers who refuse to go back there, by the look of the empty restaurant.

And so it goes on, at a leisurely pace, of course.

Campsite life

This is the first time we have been in this campsite, during the August period, a busy time, on our own.   To sit and watch, and listen,  and reflect on life around us.

Like any place where people come back year after year, and some for more years than they wish to count,  friendships are made, and continued each year, children grow up, make holiday friendships, and some meet their future partners here.   And there are many children, now grown up, who bring their own children here.   This is a campsite that draws people back, due to friendliness and atmosphere, and the beautiful surroundings.   

During each visit, one also gets caught up in the intrigues and politics of the campsite.  And a little bit of gossip thrown in as well.   An environment that draws you in completely, for the time one is here.  

When we arrived, the campsite was nearly full, and buzzing, and we looked down on many campers below us.    We also found ourselves in the middle of French campers, no English or Dutch to be seen in close proximity.   At first we could not think of a single word to say in French, but thankfully this did not last.   The people were very friendly, and the children impeccibly behaved, even the little three year olds.    

We loved watching the small children chattering away, and enjoying the freedom.   Generally it was all about play for the children, and relaxing, for the parents.   The greatest excitement was watching a husband getting his chest shaved by his wife.   Two years ago she used wax to do the same job.    Ouch!

Now the sites below us are deserted, except for a large tent, on the left, but not shown in this photograph.  The French family, with three teenagers, are having a great time, with their large tent, table and comfortable chairs.  Last year they were cramped into two small tents, and sat on stools, and the mother got really sunburnt in the blazing sun.

The photograph below is taken looking down the path from our caravan.  We now have another caravan next door, after a week of looking at an empty site.   An English couple, retirees.   Currently all the families are leaving, due to school starting soon, and it is time for the retirees, and young couples without children, to start coming down for their September vacation.

The swimming pool has emptied out somewhat this week, and spare loungers are to be found.   The terrace to the right, is also looking a bit empty too.

And the bar and restaurant, looking forlorn and empty, the end of the summer vacation.

 Back along our road, with our caravan right at the end.   Home.  For four weeks anyway.

A life of sitting, listening and observing life around us.

Camping or Glamping?

When we lived in Australia, camping was hard work, tents, perishibles in an esky, large water containers, no electricty, flies, large spiders.   And now we are camping in the south of France, with a large touring caravan (kept in storage here), an excellent water supply, electricity, comfortable chairs, two fridges, microwave, an oven, and best of all a coffee machine, with accompanying electric milk foamer.  This is not camping, this is glamping.   Glamerous camping.   And we love it.

After a long and brisk walk, breakfast, and quite a few laps of the pool, it is time to do a little housework.  Not much, just to keep the place looking decent.   At the moment, as we are on our own, we are finished all of this by 9.40 a.m.    So time for coffee!   And Walter looking very relaxed in this photograph as he settles down for his first coffee of the day.   The most important one.

And what is this on our oven?    A little bit of local wildlife!    Jeff, the lizard would like this grasshopper, although I think it could be larger than Jeff.

A game of rounders?  Or a relay race?  Or maybe dribbling a football?   No we are not bored yet.    These markers were purchased in Decathlon, and we use them to cover the pegs for the annex.    No tripping over tent pegs anymore.   

So the morning progresses, with some reading, catching up on the news on the internet, or maybe writing a blog or two.   Then it is lunchtime, usually in the campsite, baguette with ham and cheese, followed by a beautiful ripe peach or nectarine.    We have only been out to lunch once so far.   Not like us at all.   And only water for lunch too.   We are looking after our health.

  Well, the afternoon is spent snoozing, reading and jumping into the swimming pool for a swim.   My view of the campsite from my chair.    There was a photograph of me, in my bathers, relaxing on the chair, but I deleted it, due to it being most unattractive.

 Sometimes late in the afternoon, we go to Le Lavandou for a walk along the beach front, or visit the shops, and have an icecream.   No special hurry, or purpose in our wanderings here.  But I must go for a swim in the sea though.   It looks very tempting.

Then it is 'drinkies' time, either on our own, or with other campers.   Apertif before dinner.   We do try to keep the number of drinks down to one or two.   Looking after our health again.    Today we went into Le Lavandou to our favourite cafe, Le Centre, where we had our first glasses of beer since arriving here.   Mine was a shandy, I would like to add.   We sat and watched the passing parade of tourists.   Very pleasant.

 Sunset!   Such a beautiful time of the day.  The surrounding woodland looks magnificent in the late glow of the sun as it sinks behind the hills.  Mind you this beautiful scene is a little marred by the mosquitoes who decide it is time to come out, and annoy us.

 And one night we were invited to have dinner at Helen, Abdul and Jasmine's camping site.   Abdul cooked the most delicious meal, marinated chicken on skewers, with a salad made of potatoes, green beans, eggs and lettuce.   Lots of cumin used in the meal.   We finished it off with a strawberry tart.   It was a fantastic evening, but perhaps we won't mention the number of bottles of wine consumed, between the four of us.  

Camping Australia was never like this!   Well we did have lots of wine though, which always tasted great, when camping out under the stars, amongst the bush.