The mountains here have a colour to them, of reddish rock like in Arizona. They are contrasted by dark green foliage. Driving along the twisty roads brought us around them and afforded majestic views periodically. We alternated between harbour and mountain view, straddling the ocean.
Eventually we realized the day was running long and went into the town of St Raphael. Tomorrow I needed to get to Toulouse for a tour of the Airbus factory, so we figured we could make it to a random town close enough to hop onto a train. That town, picked solely due to train schedules, was Nimes. Another place we picked was dinner, at a nice restaurant in Aix en Provence. With a plan in hand, we took back off onto the road, this time away from the coast and towards Aix.
Aix en Provence is a beautiful little town. The streets are picturesque, dotted with old trees blooming in the French spring. Unlike North American cities, drawn on straight orthogonal plans, the streets here meander around in circles, which is delightful or irritating, depending on whether you’re a passenger or a driver.
Field note: Navigation in France is difficult. I forgot to get a GPS receiver for the laptop, so I’m stuck trying to give instructions based upon what street signs are around. Which the French apparently are not big on posting. As you drive up to a cross street, you are left to stare to the far right, looking for a business card sized plaque naming the street itself instead of the billboard sized street signs we’re used to.
Visiting in the offseason, which appears to be every trip I’ve taken, has it’s benefits and drawbacks. It’s typically cooler in the spring and fall, and there are less crowds (I’m told the Uffizi Gallery in Florence was unlikely if I went in the summer). However, it also means many things are randomly closed. Like the restaurant we wanted to go to tonight–a hand written sign saying they were closed for a few days. Why? No reason. Luckily, there is no shortage of good places for dinner in France, so a dinner place just down the street included foie gras for a starter, dore fish on a risotto with pine nuts, and a cheese plate of brie as a dessert.
Our last task of the day was to find our way to Nimes. Arbitrarily chosen as a place with a scheduled train to Toulouse, we decided to make our way there via Autoroute. It was difficult to find a hotel in Nimes, which led us around the center of the town and past the Arena, basking resplendent in its night time lights.
Unfortunately the big box store has hit France hard, as we headed to the “outskirts” of Nimes (read two kilometers away from city center) to look for accomodation. The stores are huge and have giant signs proclaiming their deals inside.
This also has extended to dining: The country that brought us haute cuisine and the Michelin guide now also has an establishment called “Le Restaurant Hippotamus”, replete with Boston Pizza style neon signage. Not to say I dislike big box eating, in fact, I quite rather like the garlic bread at Jack Astors, but I hate Boston Pizza’s decor with a passion.
Something struck me as unusual driving around in France: Nothing is open past a certain point in the night. I’m used to seeing gas stations open all hours, while most of them are closed by 10PM here. They also don’t illuminate the signage at all hours of the night, making driving through the jungle of big box stores a desolate experience.
Tomorrow, onwards to France and the world’s largest airliner.
Calum Tsang's Journal 