The beauty of Provence continues to lure visitors. But some of the province's earliest guests left an indelible mark on the countryside: the Romans
by Liam Hetherington on August 2, 2008
The delight of Provence is in idleness. Lazing in the sun, a bit of a wander, a lengthy lunch, a siesta, a late dinner. The temperature (especially in summer) and way of life seems to positively encourage langour. The country is stunning – you can see why so many artists settled in the south of France. The light is so bright it makes all the bushes and trees look a vivid Astroturf green. And then there are fields of golden sunflowers, all facing the same way in their rows, bushes of bright lavender. Even the fallow fields are dotted with red poppies. The place smells like a spice rack, with sudden wafts of hot sage and oregano. And the trees are full of ugly cicadas, shaking their backsides constantly, so you get this continual white noise as though a stadium of football fans were all swinging rattles at once.Yet if you want to see specific attractions, Provence has those too. The Roman Empire left its footprint here, in one of its most civilised provinces (from which word we get the name Provence). The two largest settlements were at Nimes and Arles. The latter is still proud of the remains of its arena, theatre and baths - although I did not really rate them. It does have a really good museum explaining the history of the Roman occupation however. Regardless, it is a stunning town that rewards a wander. To get an idea of how an Imperial settlement would have been laid out, take a look at Vaison-la-Romaine. Again, to my mind the old medieval core is more immediately charming.One town that is overshadowed by its Roman heritage - literally - is Orange. The grand theatre here has the only surviving Roman theatre wall (the backdrop against which the actors performed) in Europe, and one of only three in the world. It also has a triumphal arch at the north end of town.The greatest legacy of the Romans though is not arena or theatre, but a piece of plain civil engineering. The 50km aqueduct that brought water to Nimes is mostly gone, but the valley of the river Gardon is still spanned by the magnificent Pont du Gard. This triple decker row of arches is quite breathtaking, and the swimmable river makes for a lovely day out.Later visitors came from Rome of course. The Comtat Venaissin was directly ruled by the Pope up until 1789. And in the 14th century seven popes in turn called Avignon home, preferring it to the fractious infighting of the 'Eternal City'. By all accounts Papal Avignon was a riotous place. You can tour the massive fortress-like Palais des Papes.${QuickSuggestions} Don't try to do too much, will you? That is really not what a holiday in Provence is about - especially when the mercury can climb to 35 degrees in July. We saw one woman faint in the carpark of a supermarket; she just keeled over.One of the reasons I tip the Pont du Gard so highly is that you can stretch it out to a full day. Take a picnic, and have a cooling dip in the river. The villages of Provence are a real treat. They all share some similar characteristics - fountains, a campaniled belfry, rustic stonework, bustling market days, and a fierce pride in the superiority of their own individual wine. Yet they all seem very different to each other. In one day we drove with our picnic basket from Gigondas to Sablet to Seguret to Vaison-la-Romaine. They often having wine-tasting centres - though the wines are cheaper in supermarkets sadly. As driving is by far the best way to get around, it makes sense to bring your own transport. Well, to Europeans anyway. So why not bring your own house? I was very impressed with the facilities at the camping & caravan park we stayed at near Aubignan. It is clear that many people are - that is why they return year after year, driving south on their annual migration from Europe's northern shores. And the prices are astonishingly low.${BestWay} Frankly, a car is a huge boon. The main towns are linked by bus, train, and TGV (France's famed Trains des Grands Vitesse). You will have no trouble connecting between Orange, Avignon and Arles. But some of the scenes of interest are more resolutely rural. The Pont du Gard stands some way out from even Remoulins, the nearest town. And if you want to visit the numerous little villages that best sum up the classic image of Provence, you will need a car to get between them - even if you cannot really take your car into them!As to how to reach Provence... well! The major city of Marseilles lies to the south. It has a sprawling airport with several terminaux; Marseille-Provence2 sits next door to serve budget airlines (I flew here from Manchester). To the west is the rural Nimes airport. This only handles cargo and Ryanair flights - I flew back from here to Liverpool. It is in a very rural location however, and I saw no sight of public transport connections. At the herat of the area is Avignon airport, which serves Edinburgh and Exeter in the UK. Of course, you would then need to hire a car... Maybe it is best to bring your own?
Taking a caravan to Provence? Come here. Many do. And what is more, they return. While this was my first time staying at this camping and caravan site, it was my parents' third. A walk with them around the shaded 3.5 hectare site prompts a chorus of greetings from people they had met in previous summers. One Dutch couple have actually become good friends of theirs, and have offered them an invitation to come across to the Netherlands.Le Brégoux is almost a hidden secret, possibly due to a very bad write-up in the Camping & Caravan Guide. But it does book up in advance - my father emailed Lionel, the guardien, on New Year's Day to ensure he got his favourite pitch when he came over in June - July; he received an email confirmation back the very next day. Lionel and his wife speak English and German as well as French, but they attract campers from across Europe. We had a tent of fit German cyclists to one side, and a family of Austrians across the way. Yet I would say that it seems that a good 50% of guests originate from one of three countries - Ireland, the UK, and Holland. There are 170 pitches in total.This campsite is pretty unique. It is not privately owned, nor is it strictly a municipal site. It is managed by Lionel on behalf of 'la CoVe', 'la communauté d’agglomération Ventoux-Comtat Venaissin' - a sort of joint council of the local communities in the Mont Ventoux area. The Comtat Venaissin is the name for the wider area that was under the control of the Pope rather than the French crown. It was set up to provide work for locals in this rural area, and the local mayor often turns up to solicit opinions as to what else they can provide to make stays here more enjoyable - 2008's new arrival was WiFi internet access. The PC in the office is free to use, use of laptops in two specific rooms is free; use in your own caravan requires a fee and a password. There are three clean toilet blocks, with washing up facilities; a laundry room with washing machines, a childrens' play area, some table tennis tables, some tennis courts, and a book swap.There is no dining room, but four nights a week there is food available. A van with a pizza oven arrives on Thursday and Monday evenings and is very popular; another van sells hot paella on Fridays, and roast chickens are sold by a third vendor on Wednesdays. Once a month there is also some form of live entertainment put on for guests.Considering all this, rates are pretty reasonable. You pay for a pitch, whatever you fit on it (so in our case a caravan, awning, pergola, car and tent. A pitch is only €3.15 per night, plus an extra €3.10 for (un-metred) electricity. It is then €3.25 per adult, €1.75 per child, and €1.30 per dog! So, for two adults to get a pitch and electricity would cost only €12.75 per night - cheaper than any hotel you could hope to find in Provence!See their website for details on how to book:http://www.camping-lebregoux.comThe campsite is located in the village of Aubignan, a peaceful, almost typically Provencal town - two boulangeries, one small Shoppi supermarket, half the inhabitants gathering around the water pump, a busy weekly market, and frequent summer fetes. To the east the peak of Mont Ventous rears, to the north the ragged line of the white Dentelles de Montmirail. The nearest large town in Carpentras, but it is less than 30 minutes to Avignon, Orange or Vaison-la-Romaine by car.
If you see only only site in the south of France, it has to be the Pont du Gard. Built by an unknown architect it is, in my eyes, the most spectacular legacy left over from the Roman occupation. Yet it is not a temple to honour the gods, nor a palace to honour its occupants, nor even a theatre to awe the masses. It is merely a piece of civic enginerring, an aqueduct, designed to help transport fresh water from its source in the hills above Uzes to the thriving conurbation of Nimes. The original aqueduct was some 50km long, and 90% of its length was underground. It wound across the terrain - the distance between Uzes and Nimes was probably nearer 25km as the crow flied, but the Romans chose the least challenging (and hence cheapest) route. Yet they did not do a shoddy job. The route has a constant gradiant, so that from its source to Nimes' watertower 50km away there is only a drop in height of 17 metres. That is roughly a slope of only 33cm every kilometre - incredible! That Roman engineers were capable of this feat two millenia ago, armed only with plumb lines and line of sight boggles the mind. It was another 17 centuries before the theodolite was invented!As I said, 90% of the aqueduct's course was underground, and much now lies in disrepair. Yet its central image is the Pont du Gard, the famous three-tiered bridge of arches spanning the valley of the River Gardon. Unadorned, roughly finished (certain blocks protrude - they were used to aid the masons heave the other blocks to the top), it is not even symmetrical. The first full arch from the right bank, under which the river mainly flows, is wider than the rest - for proof look at the smaller tier of arches at the top. Whereas most large arches are surmounted by three smaller arches, this one has four smaller arches atop it. Yet it has a simple majesty. It has drawn tourists for centuries. You will inevitably see masonic symbols chiselled into the stonework. These were left by French architects through the 17th century and onwards, who came as pilgrims to see the pinnacle of their craft.When visiting, the first decision you have to make is - whether to head for the right or left banks. Both have carparks (€5.00 for parking). The right bank has the visitor's centre, shops and a restaurant, and it is here that nearly all the signs direct you. To get to the left bank you have to head south out of Remoulins and look carefully. The left bank has a gift shop, some snack stands, and toilets. It also has the 'shore', sloping down to the water (the right bank is sheer, popular with 'tombstoning' youths leaping off). So if you want a picnic and a swin in the river - a genuinely great way to cool off on a hot summer's afternoon - head for the left bank so you don't have to carry your gear as far. As well as swimming, you can hire canoes from a point upstream on the right bank and paddle along *beneath* this World Heritage Site. You are discouraged from swimming beneath it, but people do (they also try to discourage people diving from the rocks, but it happens!)It is easy to cross from one bank to the other - simply walk across the Pont. It became a bridge early in its history, and the cart-track was enlarged in the post-Renaissance age. Tracks lead upwards at either end of the aqueduct, to enable you to see it from higher viewpoints.The visitor's centre is a brand shiny new complex. The highlight is the Museum (€7.00). This is very in-depth, and focuses not just on the bridge and its construction, but also the importance of water in Roman daily life, and the uses to which it was put - piped into private residences, spurted from fountains to beautify the cities, supplied to the grand public baths. (On the latter subject listen to some of the audio samples - there is a great epigram from the noted Martial about the 'parasites' of the baths, obsequious flatterers who will fawn upon you until you finally crack and invite them to dinner!). Roman Nimes had a population only a sixth of today's - yet they still got through the same amount of water on a daily basis. It is a cool haven, alive with sound effects of trickling water. Less worthy is the cinema - €4.00 for a 25 minute short film, featuring the love story of a girl from Nimes and a boy from Rome with a portentous voice-over. Avoid. From €5.00 there is a 'Ludo' for children between the ages of 5 and 12. Obviously I didn't go in. But you may as well pay €12.00, which covers entrance to Museum, Ludo, Cinema, a booklet for the Memoires de Garrigue (a nature trail exploring aspects of the landscape), and also your car parking fee (normally €5.00). This day-pass is only €9.00 for those between the ages of 6 and 17. There is also a family ticket: two adults and one to four children pay only €24.00.Of course, you need not pay any of this. The river and the Pont du Gard site are free, as is the Garrigues nature trail - though I'd imagine you would have to drive and hence pay the €5.00 parking fee. And it is a wonderful day out, picnicking beneath the mighty stacked arches with the flowing Gardon to cool off in. My younger brother does not have the same love of history as me, and yet this was the one place that he wanted to bring me to. This was his third visit, and it is still his favourite place in Provence. I'd have to agree.
It is impossible to deny the importance of Roman-era Arelate, precursor to modern-day Arles. The town was beautified by a number of public diversions, that still can be seen in part - a 10,000 seater theatre, a 20,000 seater arena, a chariot-racing circus that sat a similar number, grand public baths. However I failed to be impressed by these surviving monuments. The baths and theatre can be safely avoided, and there is next to nothing visible of the circus. The arena might be worth a nosey, but it is in use by modern audiences for bullfighting. However, the cream of Roman civilisation can be seen at the Musée de l'Arles Antiques. This is a very worth-while stop, and illustrates the development of the town with marvellous models and exhibits. Pride of place must go to the luminous mosaic floors with their mythological images.As opposed to paying separate entrance fees, there is a joint pass that you can buy at any attraction: the Pass Romain. This ticket is €9.00 and gives access to Arena, Theatre, Thermes and Alyscamps. It’s worth-while if you want to see everything Arles has to offer; my money-saving tip would actually be to not bother. The most central hub of ancient Arles is its arena. Within, the actual Roman arena itself is almost invisible behind its shroud of seating. Protective barriers and a sand-strewn floor obscure the stone. Yet, this is what it would presumably have resembled, in spirit anyway, back 1900 years ago. Doubtless the Romans would approve that even today their amphitheatre is still in use for its original purpose, that of bloodsports. For from 1830 onwards, this arena has been used for bull-fighting.Just south of the Arena sits the earlier Roman theatre. This was once a massive edifice when first constructed in the 1st century BC. It was also lavishly decorated. The Venus of Arles that once graced it now resides in the Louvre, though a copy is in the Musée de l'Arles Antique, along with the theatre's statues of dancers and the Emperor Augustus. Once it would have rivalled the theatre upstream in Orange. Once it sat 10,000 people. Today however this theatre is but a shadow of its former self. Used for masonry by later generations of townsfolk, or just built over, its adornments spirited away to museums, all that remains now is a shallow saucer with only two tiers of seating. Only two columns remain in situ. Rigging and a projector screen obscured the view of the stage when I visited. Workmen's dust filled the air in gritty clouds.From the Roman theatre cross the gardens, and then the wide Boulevard des Lices. Avenue des Alyscamps leads south by the large moden Gendarmerie, crossing the railway tracks and canal. Essentially, the site is merely a cool shaded walk, flanked by tombs and sarcophagi. Bear in kind however, that the most impressive have been relocated to the Musée de l'Arles Antique. At the far end stands a bare 12th-century chuch. It is hauntingly quiet. Don't miss the spiral staircase in the back left corner which proves a spookily atmospheric way to enter the crypt / undercroft... with worryingly loose flagstones down there!This peaceful retreat from the city is wonderful. It is no wonder that it has become so famed. Medieval poetry, at a loss to explain the presence of so many of the dead, fancifully located Charlemagne's battle against the Saracens in its vicinity. Dante's 'Inferno' also gives a big shout out to the Alyscamps. It is most famous though for its appearance in art. Gauguin and Van Gogh scoped out the shaded way in the autumn of 1888, and there is a board displaying a reproduction of Van Gogh's 'Les Alyscamps' to one side. Not much has changed since those days except that the skirts nowadays are shorter, and on my visit brollies were not as much in evidence. Oh, and to my eyes the tombs were not jade green, and the tree trunks were not aquamarine.Back in town, and up beside the river Rhone, the internal remains of the Thermes de Constantin are very scanty. You spend most of your time trying to work out the orientation of the leaflet map to figure out precisely what you are meant to be looking at. There are well preserved remains of a hypocaust. This was flooring raised on pillars, and through which hot air from countless fires would circulate. Likewise, pipes ran up through the walls to heat those as well. However, unless you are keenly fascinated by Roman public sanitary architecture I would recommend skipping a visit. You can see most of what there is to see from outside anyway.The one true must-see from Roman Arles, is actually the Musée de l'Arles Antiques, inconviniently located out by the site of the Roman circus, to the west of the flyover. I would heartily recommend a visit to those interested in the development of the Roman colonies. The museum is a big blue bunker of a building that takes up quite a lot of space to best display the relics of ancient Arles. Inside are good exhibits, and a clear charter to explain the development of the colony of 'Arelate', settled by demob-happy veterans of Julius Caesar's legions. Upon entry (€5.50) you get an A3 sheet of paper in English with a map of the triangular building and an overview of the separate sections; you also get a brochure which translates the explanatory panels. Sections are clearly separated (though sometimes in a bit of a jumbled order). There are maps of Arelate at various stages of development, and models of the city and its key features - the forum, the theatre, the circus, the cemetaries, its famous 'bridge of boats' which spanned the Rhone etc. One fascinating model is of the watermill at Barbegal. An aqueduct brought water, which was then split into two channels running downhill. Each channel held eight water wheels. These sixteen mills were then capable of grinding 4.5 tons of flour a day to support the town. If we accept the truism that all that was necessary to run the empire was 'bread and circuses', that's the bread covered. What about the circuses? Well, its theatre could seat 10,000 spectators, its amphitheatre could seat twice as many, and the hippodrome could also seat 20,000. The town's prosperity is evident in its civic monuments. In terms of statuary, the Venus of Arles now stands in the Louvre, but this museum holds a replica.The goddess of love has distinctive Madonna-esque pointy boobs. They have to be fake, right? Venus is represented here as she was the mythical ancestor of the Juliae clan, that of Caesars Julius and Augustus. A vainglorious representation of a youthful Emperor Augustus is all tousled locks, muscley chest, and rock-hard abs. By contrast, a bust of what is assumed to be the bearded Emperor Hadrian looks, to British eyes, like a fat Rory McGrath. Aside from the Emperor cult, traditional Roman gods do not seem to have been very entrenched here. The town was a nexus for trade and commerce (Romans would sail to Arelate, before following the Rhone valley north to the less civilised edges of their empire. As a result it seems to have been a melting pot, full of traders from all fringes of the empire. There are signs that the cults of the Egyptian goddess Isis and the mystical middle-eastern Mithras made significant inroads here.Likewise, the inhabitants of Arelate spread outwards. This was one of the few senatorial provinces, which returned dignitaries to Rome. A very few local soldiers even served in the elite Praetorian Guard, bodyguards to the Imperial family. Other soldiers from the town, as we know from tombstones, served in theatres as far away as Britain, Africa and Cappadocia (central Turkey).Yet, fascinating as all this detail and context is, if you are to visit for only one thing, it would have to be the mosaics. Rescued from private villas they are evidence of a very wealthy class of citizens. And they are masterpieces. You can climb to a gallery to see them from above. Here you can see Orpheus charming the animals; Aion, god of Time, with the Zodiacal wheel and framed by nymphs; Jupiter as a bull, whisking a lounging Europa across the sea. Getting to Arles is easy, as it is well-connected to other centres in Provence by bus, train or TGV. I came down from Avignon for a mere €6.40 each way.
Just because the Roman Empire collapsed under its own crapulent bulk, unable to respond effectively to marauding invaders, does not mean that Provence ceased to draw the denizens of the ‘Eternal City’. The Emperor Constantine made Christianity an official religion within his domains; over a millenium later the heads of the Christian church decamped to Provence for almost a century.It was in 1309 that the French Pope Clement V tired of the infighting and feuding of the Italian clerics and nobles in Rome as clans such as the Orsini and Colonna jockeyed for position. Dragging the Papal Curia with him he decamped to Avignon, to reside in the Dominican monastery there. Six popes followed him, enlarging and grandifying the monastery, which was soon transformed into a Papal palace, the Palais des Papes. This was the 'Babylonian captivity'. The power of the Italian clans fell away; conversely the power of French families came to the ascendant. All Clement V's six immediate successors were French-born. The French kings also kept a close watch on the popes, building forts across the Rhone at Villeneuve-les-Avignon. Whether this pressure worked to keep the papacy under the thumb of the French monarchs is debatable; what is not debatable is that their petitions to declare the Knights Templar heretical were successful. The ensuing seizure of the Templars' lands and treasure greatly enriched the king.These were dangerous times. So it is perhaps not surprising that the popes' 'palace' is actually a right old fortress. The view from Place du Palais is of a 14th-century Gothic castle, all battlements, crenellations, machicolations, cross-shaped arrow-slits and high blank walls. This was a place of refuge, and was actually beseiged at points. All that softens the grim outline is the pale ash-coloured stone used in its construction that seems to glow in the sun, and the two eye-catching pencil-shaped towers that project over the main gate.Inside you pass through the ticket office, where you leave any bags you may have. Entry is €10.50, or €8.50 with an Avignon Passion card. You get an audioguide with your ticket. First sight is the Cour d'Honneur. I could not take in the expanse of this courtyard however, as it was filled with a stage and raked seating for the festival. The way leads you under the scaffolding holding up these tiers, and into the Treasuries, where the riches of the pontifical court were hidden in floor pits. You also get an idea of what they spent their booty on - building the palace, waging wars, feasts, decoration and clothes. A small fraction was even spent on books and religious observances! The Salle de Jésus gives an overview of the Avignon popes. After the death of Clement V there was a two year interregnum whilst competing claimants feuded and campaigned. Eventually John XXII was proclaimed pope. At 72-years old he was meant to be a stop-gap; in actual fact he lived another nineteen years, the longest-serving pope of the 14th-century. Benedict XII commenced the rebuilding of the lavish palace, and Clement VI bought the entire city of Avignon from Queen Joanna of Provence - in a deal that also absolved her of murdering her first husband! Innocent VI attempted to mediate between the English and French crowns during the Hundred Years' War; his successor Urban V was less even-handed, and made financial concessions to the French while blocking any marriage between an English prince and Margaret of Flanders. Finally Gregory XI returned the court to Rome following the impassioned pleadings of Catherine of Siena. (The story doesn't end there however. French cardinals, angry at seeing their Italian rivals back in the ascendant, refused to recognise Gregory's successor, and elected their own Avignon-based popes, Clement VII and Benedict XIII. The latter was beseiged in the Palais before leaving it to his nephew; he himself fled to exile in Spain. Also at this time moderates tried to reach a compromise by electing ANOTHER pope. Thus there were three 'popes', a time known as the Great Schism.)Continuing from this informative section of the audioguide you can peer into the Chamberlain's Chamber (le Chambre Antique du Camérier). It still smells of wet plaster. The Consistory Hall is a massive bare room, though displays try to point out that this austerity is nothing like its heyday, when it would have been lavishly decorated. Enamelled tiles from the floor are exhibited. Scant remains of frescoes survive, originally by Simone Martini, whose Maesta survives in Siena's Palazzo Pubblico. Another Italian, Matteo Giovanetti, was responsible for the frescoes that still survive in the Chapelle Saint-Jean off one wall. Every inch of space tells the stories of the two Saint Johns. You are also able to look over the gardens, a luxury in a town. These would have held vegetable and herb plots for the kitchens, ornate garden areas, and the papal menagerie.Through the relaxing cloister you come to the Grand Tinel, a massive dining hall, where the pontifical banquets were held. The roof originally would have been midnight blue speckled with gold stars, and the crockery, cultlery and serving dishes silver or gold. Favour was determined by how close you sat to the pope. A connecting passage leads to the kitchen. A central octagonal flue would channel out the smoke from countless fires. The audioguide gives some ideas of the amount of food that would be prepared for a papal coronation - countless oxen, numberless sheep, haunch of venison after haunch of vension, side of bacon after side of bacon, geese by the cartload, and the odd thousand chickens.From here you are close to the Pope's private chambers. These are the only rooms where any extensive amount of original decoration survives, to give a glimpse into the lifestyles of these medieval magnates. The Popes' bedchamber has bottle-green walls, traced with a veritable jungle of vines. Birds and wildlife peep out. Caged songbirds would have added to the bucolic atmosphere. Beyond, the Chambre du Cerf (Chamber of the Stag) shows more worldly pleasures with many hunting scenes - hounds running down deers, falconners, ferrets, children climbing trees. The main image though is a group of men fishing.The great chapel is a bare vaulted space, which compares poorly to the smaller frescoed chapels upstairs. Continuing into the 'Palais Neuf', rooms describe the later history of the palace. Following the end of the schism the palais was home to a papal legate who governed the surrounding lands (the Comtat Vanaissin) in the Pope's name up until the French Revolution of 1789. The palace was the scene of a massacre and was used as a prison, a barracks, and a stable by the French state up until 1906.For one last treat, climb up to the ramparts. A narrow way will follow the edge of the roofline around the Cour d'Honneur, and up to one of the little towers, overlooking the front of the palace. There is a cafe here, but for my money the best thing is the view over the stately heart of Avignon. You can see across to the Pont Saint-Benezet as it projects into the River Rhone, and sideways to the Petit Palais and Cathedral.Really, the Palais des Papes is the heart of Avignon. It is the most notable monument, and takes up a large amount of space within the walled city. From here, for most of the 14th-century, the Christian world was ordered. Today its echoing chambers and walls bare of decoration give an impression of spiritual tranquility. However, as exhibits and the few scraps of embellishment that remain show, it was actually the height of decadent luxury at a time when the vast majority of the population worked the fields for their lords and masters. The Palais des Papes must have echoed, not with the footsteps of the faithful, but with the roar of drunken laughter, the clink of silver knife on golden platter, the bellowing of exotic animals in the pope's private menagerie, the chink of coins and the sly whisper of conspirators. It is hard today to imagine those scenes, all too common when Avignon was the heart of the Christian world. However, a tour of this mighty fortress-palace reveals a different side to the papal office than the lofty vaults of St Peters and the etherial Michelangelos of Rome. This is the seat of a papacy whose concerns were most assuredly temporal.
If Orange means anything, it is its magnificent Roman-era theatre. You may think you know Roman theatres - semi-circular tiers of seats, such as that at Arles. But that is only half the story. Orange is pretty-much unique in that it retains its theatre wall, the backdrop against which the players would perform. This makes it the only surviving Roman theatre-wall in Europe, and one of only three in the world (the others are in Aspendos, Turkey, and in Bosra in Syria).I'll admit, from the outside the theatre does not look very prepossessing. Its front facade facing the town is an immense blank grey barrier, unadorned and unremittingly grim. Portacabins huddle beneath it, ready for the Choregies festival.Inside, however, wonderful new vistas present themselves. Yes, there are the tiers of seats sloping up the hill. The town notables would have sat in the flat area in the 'orchestra'; behind them would have been a depiction in miniature of society, with the least desirable members of the audience - servants, prostitutes and foreigners - the highest and furthest away. But this you have seen before. Instead look at the raised stage, and then the theatre wall. It is 103m across and 36m high. And it is not as blank as the exterior would have you fear. It is ridged and crenellated, pierced by entrances and exits, split into levels with steps, and even with a few solitary remains of columns. Once it would have been studded with statuary. Now only one remains in situ. The central niche is occupied by a 3.5m tall statue of the Emperor Augustus - with a detachable head, should political circumstances demand a change in noggin! It was Louis XIV that declared this "the finest wall in my kingdom". It is to our benefit that he never carried out his intention of dismantling the wall and carting it off to Versailles. A modern glass roof projects out to protect the wall and stage, much as an original wooden one once did. Back in the day a canvas awning used to shadow the 9000 audience members. Entry is €7.70, and the ticket also allows you access to the museum across the road, and the vault which shows a video history of the theatre in French (with English subtitles). You also get an audioguide. I was constantly impressed with the quality of the free audioguides at attractions in Provence. It is very informative. It takes you through the colonisation of Provence (or the province of Gallia Narbonnensis as it was then) by Rome. It wasn't a tough conquest, as the Greek settlement at Marseilles had already spread 'Gallo-Roman' culture throughout its hinterland, and Roman traders and soldiers were common visitors. It also gives a meander through Roman theatrical entertainment. We may imagine masked tragedies as being the stereotypical Roman diversion. Well yes, if you wanted to be worthy. However, if you wanted to be popular you would sponsor a comedy. For the theatre was free, and the rich, powerful, or ambitious would sponsor spectacles to woo the public, be they noble or pleb. Later in the Empire's history, even these fell out of favour, and bawdy (and often even proto-pornographic!) pantomimes took their place. The audioguide also takes you through the history of this particular theatre. Sacked by the Goths. Excoriated by a kill-joy Church. Used for shelter by dwellings in the early middle ages. Utilised for medieval religious mystery plays and Courts of Love. Fortified as a redoubt during the Wars of Religion, when many in Orange chose exile rather than recanting their Protestantism (the duchy of Orange had been inherited by Dutch protestants; their beautiful castle surmounted the Colline de Saint-Eutrope behind the theatre until Louis XIV tore it down; some recompense was provided by William of Orange being offered the English crown in 1688 - he is still commemorated by the 'Orange Orders' of Northern Ireland). It was only in the mid-19th century that Prosper Merimee was finally able to clear the theatre of its agglomeration of houses and restore it to its original aspect. Since then it has housed the prestigious Choregies festival.To one side of the theatre stands the remains of a temple. They now reckon thisa was dedicated to the cult of the Roman Emperor. It is overlooked by a restaurant terrace.One final sight in Orange, is its triumphal arch. Head up through the town centre and Rue Victor Hugo. The Arc de Triomphe was built around 20BC to celebrate the victories of the II Legion in battle against the Gauls. It is now stranded in the middle of a roundabout. Apparently the friezes are of the period. It is hard to make out much in the jumble of men, shields, horses, and the rostra of ships. It looks very modern. Frankly, it looks like Picasso's 'Guernica'.The arch is maybe not all that spectacular, but I would urge you to stop by Orange if only to gaze at the only standing Roman theatre wall in Europe. From the top you can see across the orange-tiled roofs of town - though you can get a better view from the hill behind. You can even sneak a free glimpse into the theatre from there should you wish to - head up the stairs on the Montee Albert Lambert near the carpark.
Ah, Vaison-la-Romaine! If I lived in Tuscany, I would live in Siena. If I lived in Provence, I would live in Vaison. Make no mistake - this town *is* on the tourist map. Yet this merely adds a flash of colour and exuberence. The main street is lined with pretty shopfronts selling brightly-tinted goods: woven bags, ceramics, scented soaps and ice-creams. I say 'the three ages', though at first glance there are only two distinct halves, a 'New Town' and an 'Old Town', split by the valley of the Ouveze. In July 2008 it was shallow but fast-flowing, with people bathing below the carpark.However, when it flooded in 1992 it wrecked a large part of the town and carried away the modern road bridge. Yet the arched Roman bridge still connects the two halves. The New Town has the touristy promenade. Yet its origins predate the Old Town opposite. By the Tourist information office there are two sections of the Roman settlement from which the town takes its name. To the left you can see a street of shops and the outline of a bath house. The layout of the town is startlingly apparent even to the untrained eye. To the right there are more columns and an arcade with statues. This leads to a 9000 seat theatre which is still used in summer - we had just missed a production of Homer's 'Odyssey'. A ticket to the ruins is €8.00, but I found that you could see most of the sites through the railings without entering. You do miss out on the museum and (doubtless informative) audioguide though. Back over the Pont Roman, you have the Old Town, the 'Haut Ville', the much more atmospheric section of Vaison. The town's medieval core clings to a crag. The donjon of the castle that belonged to the Counts of Toulouse stands at its highest point; the ass of the Romanesque cathedral seems to overhang the river below. The wander up the pedestrianised road is an absolute treat. You process through the restaurants of the Place du Poid, under the portcullis'ed belfry (very much *the* image of the Haut Ville), and then into a labyrinth of stairways and alleys and fountains. You reach the out-of-bounds castle via the Pas de-la-Mule (Pass of the Mule). There are no footpaths as such, just slabs of rock polished by countless feet (and so not really suitable for the elderly or infirm). I pity the poor footsoldier ordered to assault this high blank-faced fortress. Descending I noticed pretty gardens crammed into confined spaces. Also craftsmen, working with Provence's everpresent lavander. I could easily live in the Old Town for atmosphere - and the New Town is only a short walk away for convenience.One last thing caught my eye. Just above the bridge is a war memorial. In addition to troops it also honours civilian casualties, and also political deportees - all of the latter occurred during the dying year of WWII. The last person deported from Vaison-la-Romaine was on 19th April 1945 - only twenty days before the surrender of Germany.
Not only are the small villages of Provence some of the most delightful on the planet - but they also produce some of the most delightful wine too. These are mostly meaty reds, usually around 14% abv, usually made predominantly from Grenache and Syrah grapes. While only one specific village is really world famous - the famed Chateauneuf-du-Pape which bears the papal crossed-keys on its bottle - it seems that practically ever pinprick on the map has its own AOC (Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée). Indeed it seems faintly preposterous that when you are travelling along a vineyard-fringed road between two villages, barely a mile apart, there is somewhere an invisible demarcation line that says that these vines *here* make Sablet, but those wines *there* make Séguret.The wines are great, and many of the villages have Centres de Degustation where you can sample the local vintages - with the expectation that you will make a purchase at the end. These are atmospheric, often in rough stone gites, but I'll let you into a secret... You will get cheaper prices in the supermarkets. Sorry! But the free tastings are good to decide which particular wines you like. Gigondas has now developed a bit of a reputation, and prices are climbing towards those of Chateauneuf. Vacqueyras also make good crus that I can recommend (these can be marketed under the village name, without having to mention the 'Côtes du Rhône Villages ' blurb). Another cru is Beaumes-de-Venise - unique for producing a white wine. The next level down is that from named Côtes du Rhône Villages - Sablet and Séguret are good ones, though I found Rasteau a bit young. Though to be honest, practically any local wine is good as long as you intend to drink it soon rather than keep it, and they are usually a mere fraction of the price you would pay back in the UK. Anyway, I'm no expert - check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%B4tes_du_Rh%C3%B4ne_AOC for more info.A day wandering about these villages can be very rewarding. They often come from postcard-pretty little places. The terrain surrounding them is a blur of gnarled green vines, all growing free and not on trellises. They are separated by roads and steep-sided stream valleys. Even where a stream is seemingly non-existent or apparently never much more than a trickle they have cut deep into the chalky soil.A mentioned Gigondas as one of the more expensive reds.The town from which it takes its name climbs a hill surmounted with picturesque old ramparts, keeping a watch over its fields. It's old stone church, dedicated to SS Cosmas & Damian (the patron saints of Florence's Medici family fact fans), sticks out at what appears to be the highest point in the village. In fact, the pedestrian (don't thionk of driving around these towns!) can go a bit further, to the former hospices. These are now a local art centre showcasing their wine and some large spheres fashioned from barrel hoops, vine roots, and whippy strands of vine - 'Boules de Pays de Vin'.Sablet seems more of a substantial town, It is a pimple rising from a flat plain, as though it was built over a molehill. Again, the church is located at its highest point. There is a tourist information / centre de degustation in the town square, along with the carpark, the boulangerie, the grocers and the cafes. Away from here the valleys wind attractively through portals and up stairways. From the Place des Barrys near the church you can see Séguret. Séguret seems a tiny hamlet. It huddles at the foot of an emerald tree-clad conical hill, one of a pair.That appearance is correct. You have to park before you can even enter the village. It is a very picturesque little place - and it knows it! We passed a huddle of painters at work with easels. You enter Séguret through an archway and pass the usual small fountain and belfry. There is a route up to the castle atop the hill. It is a steep climb, and all you get at the end is a fenced-off wall. You get just as good views over the vineyards of the Côtes du Rhône without that extra exertion.There is only one thing to perfectly round off a day like this - a bottle of the good stuff. Unashamed of our faux pas we had left a bottle of red in the fridge. Yes I know. But when it is 35 degrees in Provence in July, a fridge brings the wine to nearer room temperature than leaving it out on the side!
http://www.igougo.com/journal-j71350-Provence-Provence_A_Home_From_Rome.html
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