Our old friend the Mistral has been lurking and poking his head up for a few days, and today arose and growled a bit. Although there wasn't a cloud to be seen, and the sun was shining brilliantly (the "light" of Provence that captivates artists), walking in the face of the Mistral got positively chilly. Fortunately, there was a seat in the somewhat sheltered space outside the gelato place where I was able to savor my little "mezzo pot" of pistachio and watch the girls world go by.
I did a walking timing run from the apartment to the "Gare Routière" where I'll need to catch my transfer to the airport on June 4, and it took only 15 minutes, so can easily make an early morning bus to Marseilles for the first leg of the homeward flight. Thankfully there's almost two hours in Amsterdam to change planes, unlike the 1:15 in Paris on the way in.
Walking around today I noticed that I hadn't referred to the street map I've been carrying round, indeed, haven't looked at it to navigate in a week, so getting comfortable with the city. And what a city!
As I walked past the beautiful Rotonde fountain, and strolled down the Cours, the ambience was almost too much to take in - the scenic arbor of the plane trees, the wide sidewalks, the people enjoying drinks or whatever long the way, the lilt of the beautiful French language all around just made me feel I had come close to seeing my personal heaven on earth.
Thanks to all who encouraged me to step outside myself and do this. I will cherish the memories of these weeks as long as I live.
Ciao for today, and again - sorry for no photos. The weekend approaches, and there will be photos, I promise.