Day 12… Last full day.

Over night the Mistral came down the Rhone valley and today the wind is blowing stiff and strong. It is cool and dry and actually feels pretty good considering it was nearly 90 degrees yesterday. The mistral can blow steady for a week and reach speeds of nearly 60 miles per hour at times. Regardless of the danger to sun hats and hair styles we have planned on a fair amount today. Somehow that doesn’t get us out of the house before 10:30 or so. Eh… that’s the point of a vacation. We’ll get there when we get there if we get there..

We ask Sean the GPS to guide us to Rousillon.

Off we go, things are going fine… and then we decide we should get gas. And then the little thing that tells us how many kilometers worth of gas we have left goes from 70 to —. I don’t know what — means but I have a feeling that we should probably get gas soon. The darned thing will go 600 miles on a tank and so sometimes a person might just forget that it takes gas. Change of plan. We head for Isle Sur la Sorgue. This was going to be our last stop of the day on the way home but since it’s the closest town to where we are at the moment, we point our nose that way. Sean the GPS is not pleased. We turn him down a bit and follow a route that Jack pulls up on his phone via Waze. On what feels like must be the last possible drop of gas we have (the gauge is reading teaspoon) we pull in and fill up. Time to explore Isle Sur la Sorgue.

Lots of water wheels here. At one time there were some 70 wheels generating power for … all kinds of things I don’t remember. (We’ve seen a lot of things, my brain is getting full.) We saw a dog who was so over the tourist season… even though it has barely started yet and the eggplants! They were delicious just to look at. The old center of town is like a movie set. Signs are painted on the buildings,  We popped in to a convenient spot just off the market square for lunch. Turned out to be an Italian place. Not bad, but not really Italian.

Off again to Rousillon much to Sean’s relief.

This is a place known for its ochre. It’s the iron oxide pigment used to color paint and stuff and varies from a yellowish to dark terracotta red. A dude named Jean-Étienne Astier from Rousillan in the 1780s figured out how to extract the pigment from the clay and the sand and refine it into an ingredient that could be added to paints and plasters and lipstick. (not really). But he did figure out how to make it seriously profitable and ochre from Rousillon was shipped all over the world. Anyway it’s a lovely red town with amazing views and good coffee.

Destination number next… Gordes. What’s in Gordes you ask? I don’t know. We didn’t actually stop. It was very pretty from the car. Tiny winding cobble stone streets, (Sean the GPS’ favorite kind), pretty stone houses and walls, fountains in the square… It seems to be a perfect example of one of those pretty little towns that has been bought up and gentrified by people from other places with money who have houses in Provence.

On to the Abbaye Notre Dame de Senanque.

Beautiful winding country roads, again. My favorites are the one lane/two way roads with the giant tour buses and bicyclists. Kind of like a video game at 90 kilometers an hour.

The abbey itself is set among large lavender fields and wooded hills. Founded in 1148 by Cistercian monks who lived in huts. They finally got enough support to build a church that was consecrated in 1178. As well as the church there was a cloister, a dormitory, a chapter house and a small calefactory which was the one heated space where they could write.

It is a stark and simple space. Minimalist. There are no frescoes, no gilded anything, no colorful stained glass windows. It is a remarkably beautiful place. Over the last 9 centuries the abbey grew to a point where they were operating 4 mills, seven granges and possessed large estates in Provence. The founding principles of the Cistercians were fundamentally a revolt against the excesses of religious orders of the time… well, the French Wars of Religion 1562-98 came along to remind the Cistercians of that. The abbey was sacked by the Huguenots, the lands were nationalized and the property was sold to a private party. The abbey was repurchased in 1854 for a new community of Cistercians… they were in turn expelled again in 1903 and then finally a small group returned in 1988 as a priory of Lerins. The few monks that live at the abbey now make a living growing lavender and tending honey bees… You can arrange to stay at the abbey for a spiritual retreat… tempting.

Home again to pack up, say goodbye to the donkey and his sheep, the lizard in the bathroom, Earnestine… We got take out from the only place in France that actually does take out on purpose. Lamb roasted in flaky pastry with vegetables… farewell Provence.