La Vie Provençal: Aix-en-Provence

Wednesday morning, I went jogging along the corniche, scarfed down some pain au chocolat, and caught the bus from Marseille to Aix-en-Provence for €4.50. I was able to leave my luggage at the only auberge de jeunesse in town, though I couldn’t formally check in until 5:00 pm that evening. Walking back to the city center, I bought a delicious piece of goat-cheese pizza for 3 euros and basked in the warm sunlight (sensing a theme here?). I then promptly threw frugality to the wind and bought a 4 euro gaufre au chocolat near the tourist office. As punishment for my hedonism, I now have chocolate stains on my jeans due to overeager eating. I walked along the picturesque Cours Mirabeau with its several fountains, overpriced cafés and shops, and Monoprix. It started raining, so I went to the Musée Granet and discovered that every artist in 19th century Provence painted the same theme: peasants frolicking amongst ruins in southern France or Italy. Every single one. Oh, and Cézanne painted Mont St. Victoire more times than I care to count. Regardless, I felt inspired to write some of my own thoughts down and enjoyed seeing how the region presented its cultural patrimony. I stopped on the way back to take a picture at the Four Dolphins fountain and stumbled into a small international bookstore. Aix-en-Provence is a big university town so they have wonderful foreign language options, unlike the rest of France where trying to find a book in anything other than French is excruciatingly difficult (but still probably easier than in the States). I picked up a Spanish novel “La familia de Pascul Duarte” and “The Turn of the Screw” for some good English-language fiction. My shopping complete, I set off to find the Atelier Cézanne. I had better luck in Aix than in Marseille as this time I arrived 10 minutes before the workshop closed. Since you aren’t allowed to take pictures and it’s one room, I was able to get a good impression of the exhibit pretty quickly and asked a few questions of the helpful tour guide. While I was out, I figured that I’d hit up the Cézanne Trail which led to some other sights. They failed to mention a distance so I gave up after walking for 45 minutes, but enjoyed some spectacular views of the gorgeous campagne. Dinner was a quiche purchased for 3 euros in another bakery and then I headed back to the hostel to relax for the night.

As it turned out, the receptionist took a dinner break from 7:30-8:15 every night, a fact that I learned upon arriving at 7:40 pm. I read my book, checked into my room, and was ready for a peaceful night before I met my roommate. “Youth” in this instance meant “young at heart,” as he was a very nice fortysomething man from Dunkirk who complemented me on my French and asked if I minded that he had brought a TV set to watch. Breakfast the next morning was rather subpar (stale baguettes and butter), but that was only the beginning. Due to confusion about the shuttle schedule, I missed my train out of Aix to Paris. I bought a new one and had to fork out some cash since it was during “peak travel times.” I was OK since I would still have 45 minutes to get from Paris Gare de Lyon to Paris Gare de l’Est. I found out that it takes 49 minutes to get between the gares and missed my second train. Since I had already changed my itinerary once, I was obliged to buy a new ticket. To take my mind off this mishap, I walked around the neighborhood taking photos until my camera was stolen by a pickpocket. Suffice it to say, I eventually made it back to Nancy in one piece and am thankful for my earlier frugality.