Blog Entry: Jonathan Hart - Southern France

Jonathan Hart - Southern France

Bonjour tout le monde!

This leg of the trip has been a 

much needed rest for many of us but it has also been an experience vastly different to those we had in Greece and Italy.  France was the country on the trip for which I had the highest expectations and, although I do not wish to speak too soon, I can say that Beaucaire has indeed managed to live up to almost all of them, even surpassing some.  

France is a country of immense richness of culture and heritage, or 'patrimoine' as the French call it, and the national pride which stems from this is evident even to the untrained eye.  High standards in food and fashion are upheld by the French; certainly when our tour group passes by dressed in unmatching shorts and T-shirts while munching on Pringles, the stares cast at us are not always pleasant.  French cultural pride is also manifested in the refusal of the French to allow their language to be (completely) usurped by English; although many speak English, most road signs and signs on buildings are given only in French.

The remarkable culture and melodious language, while intrinsic parts of France's identity, are not the sole elements responsible for its individuality.  In particular, many of the natural scenes we have viewed while travelling have been simply paradisiac;  the weathered brown shades of the cliffs in the background blend perfectly into the lush grass fields with a canopy of trees, and extra colour is provided by scatterings of wildflowers.  As a New Zealander, well accustomed to vast quantities of natural beauty, I was rather startled to be startled at the picturesque areas of Southern France.

Having already raved in excess concerning the natural and cultural appeal of the Hexagon, perhaps I should move on to what I will attempt to make a brief (yes, I can hear you laughing already) summary of the last few days.  Here goes.

To describe our overnight train experience from Italy to France as cramped would be rather an understatement.  Boarding the train was enough of a challenge, let alone attempting to fold six of us into a space which vaguely resembled a sardine can, yet was apparently called a cabin.  Moving around once inside was surprisingly simple, provided that it involved only respiration and lubrication of eyeballs.  Some boys managed approximately eight hours of sleep during the journey, although I doubt that I was out for far beyond three.  However it did not matter, as during the next five days we would be treated to many early nights and sleep-ins, luxuries which many of us had almost forgotten about.  

Arriving in Dijon, I was excited to hear the beautiful sound of French conversations all around me, many of whose words I could thankfully understand!  After our two hour stopover, we boarded another train which took us to Avignon.  

As the teachers attacked the paperwork and bureaucratic processes associated with vehicle hire, I briefly explored the Avignon station, a very pleasant environment with its gardens and fountains, all very modern and clean.

Eventually we were ready to make the journey to the hotel in Beaucaire.  I must say that I respect the bravery of the teachers to make a trip in a large and unfamiliar vehicle, on the wrong side of the road (which also happens to be the right side of the road), in an unfamiliar country, with eight rowdy teenagers, and having had little sleep in the last 30 hours.  Amazingly, despite all of the above conditions, the convoy managed the journey, although Mr Wilson did once almost cause a fatal accident by turning into the wrong side of the road!

After arriving at the hotel, we were treated to a cold glass of orange juice before being introduced to our rooms.  Far roomier than those we had stayed in before, they also had the advantage of being on the ground level; delightedly, I do not have to climb any stairs to reach it!  The swimming pool at the hotel has also been a popular option for many boys; some swim before breakfast, after breakfast, before dinner, after dinner - essentially, whenever they can!  

After settling in nicely, we returned to the vans to drive into Beaucaire for an orientation walk.  However Mr Wilson appeared to be having some trouble getting his van into reverse; either that, or it was deliberately that he was repeatedly driving towards the bushes instead of out of the car park.  

My first impressions of Beaucaire on this walk were quite positive; the Rhône River running through the centre is an excellent feature, and the two castles are fantastic.

The next day, our first full day in France, was rather eventful indeed.  The group departed from the hotel at a leisurely 9:30 for the local hypermarket, where we purchased supplies for the day.  For many of us (though not for me), these supplies consisted exclusively of potato crisps and fizzy drinks...yes, parents, roll your eyes and shake your heads.  

We then moved on to the Pont du Gard, where the first of the day's unexpected adventures took place.  The teachers deposited us at the entrance and left to find free parking, a plan which indeed seemed sensible.  However while we were waiting the man from the ticket booth approached a group of boys and began speaking to them.  Uncomprehending, they naturally called upon the nearest French speaker, who happened to be me.  Although I managed to break the language barrier, the communication barrier remained, as the man was under the impression that, because I had been called upon, I must have been the tour leader.  Worse still, he produced a calculator and began to add up all of the ticket prices and seemed to expect that I should pay.  Eventually I succeeded in convincing him that our returning teachers would be able to pay, and when they arrived, all was settled.  

Once we finally entered, the breathtaking sight of the magnificent Pont du Gard between the cliffs framing the river flowing underneath appeared to us.  The Pont du Gard is a brilliant achievement, a testament to the expertise and persistence of its designers and builders.  The mathematical precision with which it was constructed is undoubtedly responsible for its survival today.  In fact, the gradient of the aqueduct on the top level was calculated so that it was just steep enough for water to flow along it, but no more; the gradient also had to remain the same over many kilometres after the aqueduct.  In addition, the arch under which the river runs is made slightly wider than the others, in order that the bottoms of the arch do not sit in the water and thus be worn away.  

After exploring the surrounding cliffs and capturing numerous photographs, some more lion-hearted members of the group ventured down to the river for a brief swim.  The ensuing injury obtained by Jack Adams has no doubt been mentioned on other blogs, so there is no need for me to explain it here, however it was a slight hint that more adventures were to follow that day.  After leaving the Pont du Gard, we travelled to Nîmes, an ancient town which used to be called Nemausus in Roman times.  During the journey, Mr Boyce and I began to discover that the playlist of French radio stations literally contains about five songs which are just played on a continuous loop.  We had been listening for about two hours total and already heard the same songs about five times!  Nevertheless Mr Boyce still bounced the van and swerved from side to side in time to the music (well, you have to keep teenagers entertained somehow!).  

Arriving at Nîmes, we quickly discovered that finding parking for three oversized vehicles was going to be a challenging task.  The ancient streets were incredibly narrow and, of course, had cars parked bumper-to-bumper along both sides.  Keeping together was enough of a challenge, and, for Mr Wilson, the negotiation of some of the bends seemed to qualify three-point turns!  We continued to drive around unsuccessfully for a long time, and thus had a very thorough tour of Nîmes, though not as planned!  In the end, Mr Buckingham made an interesting decision to resort to an underground carpark.  While this may sound perfectly sensible, the builders of the Nîmes underground carparks appear to have designed the entrances to fit a child's tricycle; fitting the vans through was a terrifying experience.  After the entrance, the designers chose to recreate the atmosphere of a theme park ride, and the narrow corridor through to the carpark is pitch black, lit only by sparse blue fluorescent lights that serve only to show where the walls are.  Upon reaching the parking spaces, it can definitely be concluded that the carpark was intended for tricycles; the size of the spaces is just ridiculous.  Despite the degree to which the spaces had been crammed in however, the carpark was entirely full, so we still had met with no parking success.  At length we found some carparks on the side of a road and were able to explore Nîmes.

In Nîmes we were principally focussing on the Maison Carrée and the Amphitheatre.  The amphitheatre, while it is by no means a Colosseum, is still an impressive structure, particularly because it is still in use today.  The Maison Carrée is one of the best preserved Roman temples there is, and, now that the outside has been cleaned, it looks outstanding.  

Unfortunately the parking ordeal had entirely eaten up our time for the visit to the Roman winery; Mr Boyce and Mr Wilson's vans headed back to the hotel, while Mr Buckingham needed to go separately to seek medical attention for Jack Adams after his incident at the Pont du Gard.  Mr Buckingham, always the leading driver,  was quite sorely missed when the navigation and the pole position was handed over to Mr Boyce and his crew (me included).  

Despite the fact that we were in possession of a map which Mr Buckingham had used to demonstrate the exact route out of Nîmes for us, we still managed to take unintentional detours and break the law.  Having set out, it was apparent that few of the streets were signposted, and consequently it was some time (and many u-turns) before the correct street was found.  The u-turns were not the only questionable manoeuvres; the students were so busy navigating that we failed to notify Mr Boyce that he was repeatedly failing to give way and ignoring far too many red lights.  Of course, in order to stay together, Mr Wilson was forced to do the same, making us even more of a traffic hazard.  Worse still, we directed Mr Boyce onto a road that unfortunately turned out to be for buses only (well, we are minibuses...), however on the map this was not marked at all (who writes these maps?).  We were forced to continue along here for quite some time, as there were no exits or side roads.  Fortunately we only met with two buses, although we were very nearly sandwiched between them.  After eventually leaving the bus area (sigh of relief) we were able to follow road signs back to Beaucaire without relying on the rather untrustworthy map.  Mr Wilson's deduction upon returning to the hotel, "that was just ridiculous", fairly accurately summarises our trip out of Nîmes.  

The second day in Provence thankfully did not include any of our navigating, as Mr Buckingham had again assumed the leading position.  We left in the morning for another scenic drive through the French countryside to the ancient city of Glanum.  This settlement slightly resembles those of Pompeii and Ostia, which we visited in Italy, though it is far smaller and less intact.  The surroundings are glorious however, and it is perhaps these which enhance its appeal to make it a noteworthy heritage site.  We then visited the Châteaux des Baux-de-Provence and St Remy de Provence, both of which were, again, very pretty in their location in the hills.  There were some fantastic remains at Les Baux-de-Provence, many of which were largely intact.  For some boys, the delight of discovering a sweet shop at Les Baux-de-Provence was overwhelming; I have heard reports of fifteen euros being spent there by a single tour member!  

Upon returning to Beaucaire, we visited Tarascon Castle.  An attraction quite different from others we have seen on the tour, its splendour and imposing nature took me by surprise.  The castle was undoubtedly one of the highlights of this leg of the trip; the moat, narrow staircases and echoey rooms enhance the experience enormously.  Furthermore, the view from the top is fantastic, and there are even areas at the edge with wide drainage gaps so that one can look down at the trees and water many metres below!  

After a thoroughly enjoyable time in (and on) the castle, we visited the church opposite, in which St Martha lies.  

The final event for the day was another visit to Beaucaire's second castle, and this time we were able to enter.  While not as structurally impressive as Tarascon Castle, this castle is in an excellent position to view the Rhône, the town and beyond.  It is also easy to imagine the rivalry which would have taken place between the two 'kings of the castles' as they peered across at each other.  

On Monday, we visited Avignon.  On our way in, Mr Wilson failed to make a rather important lane change and sailed off in a completely different direction.  Fortunately for him, the other two vans had trouble finding parking, and he happened to cross paths with the rest of the convoy after what was most likely a rather stressful thirty minutes.  

Having not formed any significant expectations beforehand, I was charmed by the historic little town in its lovely location on the Rhône.  The famous Pont d'Avignon looks incredibly fitting in its majestic position across the river, even if only some of it remains.  The beautiful park on the clifftop provides an excellent vantage point for the obtention of an absolutely stunning photo or simply for eating lunch.  

While in Avignon we visited the Palais des Papes (Palace of the Popes), and although there is little remaining of the inside, the outside still looks grand.  It was quite fascinating to learn about the uncertainty and struggle that ensued here as a result of there being Popes at both Avignon and Rome.  

Leaving Avignon, Mr Wilson almost failed to make the exact same lane change, however we all arrived at Arles unharmed.  

Another historic city, Arles is almost as fascinating as Avignon to visit; best of all, we finished with an excellent waterfront walk.  

Tuesday, our last full day in Provence, was the day of our trip to Orange.  We spent an excellent couple of hours in the Theatre of Augustus listening to our free audio commentary; the theatre was very cleverly designed and even the replacement modern roof, as ugly as it is, is designed to direct light on the stage building and façade.  In order to prove the excellent acoustics of the Theatre, Joe Brealey delivered a speech from the stage at the bottom while the group sat at the very top. 

The other attraction of Orange was the Arch, which is in good condition and rather resembles the Arches of Constantine and Titus which we saw in Rome.  

Thus our journey in Southern France has come to an end.  Certainly for me it has been one of the most outstanding legs of the trip, as we have seen fantastic sights, had much fun in the minivans, and had a much needed rest.

We are now ready to go for Paris!

- Jonathan Hart