Lavender Fields and Picturesque Provencal Villages
Valensole is a wonderful place where every day is a new adventure. The enchanting view of lavender fields, the atmosphere of the Provencal village and the small culinary experiences all contribute to the feeling of being always at home here. I think the best thing to do is to simply enjoy the moment and let the magic of Valensole take you over.
Valensole, 2024. 27 June. Thursday.
At eight in the morning I just catch the train at St. Martin Crau station, rush to lock the scooter, again, I will leave it in the public parking of the train station for two days, I just hope I will find it tomorrow evening. With so many problems, I wouldn’t shed many tears. It seems as if the life cycle of the scooter is planned for a year of daily use.
I had already planned last week to see a lavender field. The destination is set, the route is more optional. At Marseille station, I find that of the three possible bus connections, the most convenient is the one from the airport, but it would have been better to get off the train at Vitrolles. So, back on the train two stops, then the local airport shuttle takes me to Terminal 2, and a long-distance bus takes me to the small town of Manesque, from where the neighbouring town of lavender fields is next door. Until now, I had hoped to find the bus timetable between the municipalities, but I couldn’t find it online.
The timetable for the one hundred and thirty three buses is almost empty and there are no alternatives. Fifteen kilometres. So I have an hour, I change into shorts, have a coffee at the bistro in Resti. “Please, I would pay cash if I could find an ATM.”
The bus leaves at 12:30, with all four passengers. I’m not falling asleep on this bus route, if only because it’s not exactly a motorway of simplicity: steep, then downhill, winding in between; forest after forest of golden wheat fields interspersed with purple signs; purple because the colour of lavender actually contains shades of grey and/or blue, depending on the variety. A beautiful road. In the centre of Valensole, I start by sitting down for lunch at the bus stop, it’s not a worn-out bus shelter, I won’t need it again today. Even last week I bought some ham, salami, bread packed with preservatives. In this sunlight, the bottle of water also slides down. I leave at half past one for the programme I came for, I remember I left the room at half past six.
Interestingly, all the tourists here are either in white or purple – well, most of the decorations are too. In my little black shorts I look like I’m lost 🙂
It’s not an insultingly large village. This is a provincial village where a painter can find pleasure on any street corner. A quick tour of the village centre; nothing surprising, just the usual good stuff: a few hundred year old buildings, fountains, churches, manor houses, souvenir stalls, bar terraces, the smell of fresh bread; Jah and lavender in the fields.
Again, the tourist office gave me a useful map. It’s as if tourism is important to this country… I set off for a short walk, ten minutes walk below the village there is a lavender museum, when I get there it turns out to be more of a marketig device. I understand them completely, because you couldn’t fill the place with the phrase open-air restaurant on the site of a former distillery with a purple panorama. Instead, they printed a bunch of informative posters and stuck them in the tools they left behind.
At this point, I could talk about how wonderful I feel, only I can’t think of anything, for one thing, I’m busy with the scenery. Ok, I can be impressed for hours with a crate of flowers, but this valley is a little more of a thrill. Alongside the nature, I stop to admire the former police station, a small castle, a chapel, and on the way back, in the park around the stream, I find a picnic area, parking for caravans and a playground. In this heat, I thought I’d have a beer on one of the terraces, but the restaurants are non-existent in the afternoon, and the one-eye bar is packed. In a small shop I fill up with another drink. Yes, a bottle of beer is good too.
Meanwhile – interesting – I’m just now deciding that I have time to read my messages. Interesting, I only bother with my posts when I have a day off, interesting… I’ll call my mother back. She seems to be improving, she has the strength to talk, which is something.
With the handy little map, I set off for another walk, this time to the lavender fields on the edge of the village, but first I’ll go through the village. Maybe I don’t think of brilliant ideas because I’ve seen them before. It is also a typical Provencal village, beautiful as it is. The village is built into a hillside, so the view from the former castle wall is beautiful. No castle, only a battlements, but I saw more churches – again – on the narrow winding streets, if you go uphill you come to the bigger one. Otherwise, they are nice, well-kept houses, without any modernity. As a nice surprise, the supermarket car park has a stunning view of the mountains and purple fields, and even benches have been installed for romantic sunrise fans. I choose the fields to the north-west above the village, just because the hillsides towards Manesque are a long walk away. In fact, there are only four directions around the settlement: north, south, east and west.
A thirty-minute walk from the village boundary and you’ll find the fourth field, a classic lavender-purple colour; in reality, it doesn’t exist in just one colour; the twenty-five subspecies on display at the exhibition site are in colour combinations of blue, grey, purple in varying proportions; even their shapes are not exactly the same. Obviously, the deep purple is the most photogenic. Some fields are weedy – they are still beautiful in their own way and valuable. So the fourth field is the one where I not only graze my eyes, but take the obligatory selfies: crouching down in the bushes, it makes the hillside look endless, but in fact it just takes out the farm, the access road and the other tourists wandering around.
I walked back the other way. There are the less old houses, but they are set along spacious, flowery, shady streets; it is a beautiful village. I get a fresh baguette and salami at the grocery store, fruit already in my bag – these will be good for the morning. I wander down small sloping streets, some of the family dining rooms face the street, I could tell you what they eat, but that’s normal around here. It is as if people are not shutting themselves away, but saying hello to each other. Shady trees, Provencal architecture, interesting sculptures, good air, nice place to live.
It’s not even the lavender field itself that’s interesting… Or is it? Stop in the middle and take a selfie, then do some shopping in the souvenir shop. That’s all! I think it’s more interesting as you pass by it, say on a bike; and watch. In some places, an entire hillside is purple, in others there are fields of golden wheat, greyish-green olives and purple-blue lavender.
People look at me funny when I cool my face and the back of my head with the water from the fountain; this time I also wash away the… heavenly blessings of the birds that have fallen on my arms. Fountains are no longer fashionable – just because they (really) use too much water, but luckily there are three in this city.
I eat salami sandwiches in the morning and at noon, and I want something else for dinner. I don’t want to spend money on a restaurant (twenty-two euros for a main course). However, a good looking buffet car has recently arrived… They made quite tasty kebab panini. There’s still an hour before the concert starts, and they will sing French chansons in the town hall. Now there’s room on the terrace, I could do with a beer.
At first I myself was surprised that people didn’t gather for the concert, then I read the programme again at the door of the closed hall: this concert is in the neighbouring village, the one before and after is in this village, but they are upstairs, on the panoramic terraces.
Instead of music, I’m heading uphill too, but this time to the other side of the valley, towards the more wooded part, the plan is to moor my hammock between two trees.
