An American in Provence

This past weekend, we were invited to tag along with Alain's karate club on a motorcycle outing.


We stopped to take some pictures. It was quite beautiful and there were quite a few tourists. We drove past some camping sites.The French are very strange in their camping habits. They take a tent or RV, go to site with tons of other camps and RVs, and stay there for a week or so, and go to the pool on-site, cafe, go in the river, etc.

Anyway, after several stops for coffee and gas , we finally arrived at where we would be overnighting. After a day on a motorcycle, I don't want to hear "We are staying in a 'gite rustic', bring a flashlight." I want to hear "We are staying in a 5-star Hilton with a private in-room masseuse and jacuzzi."

Apparently, the leader of the group knew a couple that had a small farm near Les Vans, and they rented out places to sleep on their farm. They had donkeys (and give donkey rides), goats, sheep, chickens, pigs, even peacocks.

The owner showed us around, and we unloaded our things. This was the bathroom ->

There was a "dry" toilet, where you scoop sawdust down the hole after you use it, and a shower with running hot water. (Though I didn't actually shower as it was just one night and we didn't have room in the backpack for towels).

We then went back into Les Vans for a much-needed beer. We came back around 8 pm for dinner, which was a salad, couscous and vegetables, and baby lamb.

Around 10:30, we all headed for bed, quite exhausted. Alain and I slept in a cabin with another couple, and the other two couples slept in a tipi. I slept surprisingly okay, but the others did not due to the animal noises- dogs barking, donkeys braying, and the bells around the necks of the goats. At dawn, the roosters started crowing. We all woke up around 6:30. We ate breakfast, coffee and homemade bread and jams.

We got back on the road around 9, and drove through the mountains, past some lakes. We stopped for coffee, gas, and lunch.

I was really starting to hurt. Apparently, contrary to what I have believed these past few years, I need more padding on my rear and not less. After about an hour/hour and a half I needed to stop, even just for a few minutes to stretch my legs and get the blood flowing again.

At one point, we drove over some really bad roads and I begged Alain to stop.

We abandoned the idea of going up Mount Ventoux- it was getting late, we weren't properly equipped, and I was in pain. We headed back to the Bouches du Rhone. We said goodbye at Senas, and we took the highway back to Marseille. I stumbled off, hoping that this trip would suffice him for at least a year or two.

No such chance. Now he is looking at buying another motorcycle, bigger and more comfortable for long trips. Great. Just what we need. A second motorcycle!

And, for everyone wondering, it took a good two days, but now I am back to normal. All in all, I enjoyed the trip itself, just not the soreness. It was definitely better than the camping trip o'hell back in August 2005, right after I arrived. I would go on another trip, just not on the same motorcycle.