PROVENCE TO PARIS

Les Baux-de-Provence

A day of driving through Provence is highlighted by a stop in the mountainous village of Les Baux-de-Provence, featuring charming passageways full of shops and the ruins of a mighty 10th-century castle.

Marianne and I eased into our first morning in France, enjoying complementary fruit, pastries, and Caffè Americano at a leisurely pace in our hotel’s restaurant. At a table nearby, I watched a group of men in weathered clothes who appeared to be in no hurry to start their day. They looked like they had spent decades in those chairs, moving only for a sip or a smoke, discussing what needs discussing before the work begins.

We soon set out for the short drive to Les Baux-de-Provence, taking a winding mountain road south to the village. Originally settled around 6000 BC, the current town is perched high on a rugged hill (baux is French for “cliff”) amongst other rugged hills in the sprawling Alpilles Natural Regional Park. Les Baux is topped by Château des Baux-de-Provence, a castle ruin dating to the 10th century. The Lords of Baux ruled the castle and the village until 1482, when it became part of the French royal domain.

Accompanying our views of mountainous majesty was Aerosmith. The hard-rocking band wailed and grinded over the car stereo as we twisted up and around the ancient, craggy hills. It was a terrible pairing, like worlds colliding — rock against rock. But it effectively drowned out the maddening thwip-thwip, thwip-thwip of our rental’s unstoppable zombie rear wiper, and few things have ever mattered to me more.

“After this, we’re going to find a store and buy some duct tape,” Marianne promised.

We spent a frustrating amount of time finding a parking space that didn’t require a lengthy hike into Les Baux. After making several loops and idling to catch potential departures, we eventually squeezed into a space that required a few three-point turns, with Marianne standing outside the car to ensure I didn’t bump my fellow sardines.

We walked through the town gate and into the beautiful village, with curving stone paths through shops and restaurants and gelato shops, all built with the local limestone. It is a charming experience, with surprises around corners and within the walls of ancient Les Baux.

Our shopping needs sufficiently sated, we searched for a dependable spot for lunch. I had brought notes and photos for the top candidates, but if your palate isn’t particularly adventurous (as with Marianne), you need to see a menu. And because they can change daily in France, you should see that menu in person. We did this for quite some time, up and down the street, pointing phones at menus, squinting at translations with shifting words and partial sentences, committed to making the right choice.

We settled on Le Bouchon Rouge, an inviting restaurant with a cozy cave serving as a back patio. The lunch menu featured Provençal specialties like savory crepes. We opted for a pair of elaborate salads, then indulged in ice cream and espresso.

After lunch, we continued our uphill climb to Château des Baux-de-Provence. The castle is a large complex of white limestone buildings extending along the hilltop ridgeline. For 500 years, it was the seat of the House of Baux, one of the most powerful families in medieval Provence, with vast land holdings and a strong influence over the region. The area remained rebellious after the reign of the Baux family, becoming a center of rising Protestantism in Catholic France. In 1632, the village revolted against the crown and lost. Cardinal Richelieu, then the chief minister of France, ordered the castle to be demolished.

The view to the east from the castle remains — in high contrast to the rough mountains to the west — is full of neat farms and small streams.

The path through the castle is circuitous, through ruins of keeps and towers, two chapels, a hospital, a cistern, a windmill, a communal oven, siege equipment, and a dovecote (a recessed spot in a wall for domesticated pigeons).

If you speak to an experienced traveler about Les Baux, they will tell you that you must see the one thing we decided not to see: Carrières des Lumières, nearby quarries converted in 1978 into an immersive sound-and-light experience. Famous works of art are projected on walls and floors as visitors pass through the gallery. It sounded fun, but after our hike through the castle and back, we decided to pass.

Marianne and I returned to our car, pried it from its parking space, and headed southeast. Thwip-thwip, thwip-thwip. We passed through the quiet town of Maussane-les-Alpilles and continued to Mouriès, where we stopped at a grocery store. We found the duct tape needed to muzzle the demons possessing our rear wiper, then grabbed a couple of beers to celebrate the end of our sonic torture. When we reached the register, I presented our beers and duct tape. “Yep, big plans tonight,” I thought to myself, sensing the cashier’s raised eyebrow.

Marianne applied the duct tape to our rear wiper, pasting it into place from several angles. And it worked! The wiper’s motor made an effort, found total resistance, and stopped. We were free.

 

Back in Saint-Rémy

We drove another 45 minutes through the countryside back to Saint-Rémy, passing groves of olive and oak trees, clusters of scrub bushes, and villages that challenge drivers with narrow avenues. After a quick rest at our hotel, we struck out to do some proper shopping in Saint-Rémy.

Just across the street from our hotel, we paused to admire Saint-Martin Church, built in 1821 on the site of older churches dating back to 1122.

We continued into the center of the old town, its quaint lanes colored with fine shops on a perfect afternoon.

That night, we took a break from French food and enjoyed Neopolitan pizzas on the patio outside La Cantina on the busy Boulevard Victor Hugo. We paired our pies with a Tuscan red, ending the meal with a refreshing lemon sorbetto that put a comforting cap on our first full day abroad.