Happy Endings in Provence

I am in a better place now. Both emotionally and physically. The experience at the "pit of dispair" threw me for a loop for a while, but we are all back on track.

Provence helped. Doing normal vacation things helped even more.

Spending the morning in Marseilles entailed first getting out of the hotel and then was followed up by closely watching our personal belongings (including but not limiteed to the small children) while we strolled through Marseilles harbor. Saturday morning fish market was in full swing - which left Aidan pinching his nose throughout the stroll and the other kids oohing and aahing over the various dead sea creatures. The swordfish heads were exceptionally remarkable - even Brian and I were impressed. We walked around the harbor down to the fort looking for the purported WWII monument. There was a museum, but dedicated to the deportation to the prison camps. The older boys and I stayed for a bit, but everything was in French.
Part of the reason for our Marseilles trip was to pay a bit of homage to my family history - my grandparents met in Marseilles 63 years ago while being transferred from one war theater to another. I'm certain that while some of the city looks the same, parts have definitly seen a change in these last years. We found ourselves at another playground on the water and enjoyed a small breeze off the water. Enjoying playgrounds has been one of the few contants of the trip to date. Every town and city has one (or more) and slides just never lose their appeal to a 5 and 8 year old. Teeter totters don't either, but we're staying off those for the duration.
Many cultures collide (and according to the tourbooks, not always peacefully) in this part of France. Traditional northern African dress was just as prevalent as nerdy American tourist garb.
Brian was pleased at the variety of food offered at the restaurants lining the harbor. Although the food is FANTASTIC in Italy, there is little variety where we are, so seeing Indian, Vietnamese, Chinese, Lebanese food places was very refreshing. Of course, as everyone was hot and hungry, we had to appeal to the lowest common denominator in our food pick, so we opeted for "Buffalo Bills" cafe. Apparantly it's a chain over here as we've seen more than one on our drive through southern France. (The decor is not the most Native American PC friendly either)
We then hit the road for Provence. We were guided to Arles - with no knowledge of the town or even the region for that matter. We found ourselves via our GPS in the middle of the old town and mistakingly wound up on a road we could not pass through. Backing up was necessary. Angry French drivers completed the picture for us as they had to back up too. So we pulled off to the side of some immensely old Roman ruin to plot our next piece of the journey. Thankfully, Brian's portable cell-phone modem worked, so we powered up the computer to find accomodation with less hazardous parking.
We were looking for somewhere safe, with clean rooms, Air Conditioning (note the capital A and C) and maybe even a pool for the kids.
We found that in the Best Western in Arles. We happily unloaded (and I'm not even kidding when I say we UNLOAD - words almost can't describe the picture we make unfolding ourselves and our STUFF out of the car) and made our way to 2 lovely, COLD!, adjoining bedrooms. I finally let out the breath I had been holding in since the night before. What a sigh of relief. The kids were antsy so I volunteered to take them to the pool on the roof. The very small, but very effective pool made it feel like a true vacation - like coming back to civilization. Sometimes, there is only so much unique and different a person can stand - and I had found my breaking point.
As a concession to seeing the town we were staying in, I persuaded the kids and Brian ("but it's so hot outside!") to take the 35 minute bus (shaped like a train) tour with "audio commentary in 8 languages simultaneosly!" Brian's curiosity was piqued at this promise - thinking he'd get to hear some tour guide rattle off in Japanese. Not to be - headphones are used. The tour was lovely for the main fact that it involved NO WALKING: a brief look at the major sights of town, with some interesting facts thrown in. Add in a great multi-linguist of a driver who got a kick out of Ed (I'm telling you, sometimes having that cute 5 year old is a big bonus) and chatted with us between some stops proved to be an entertaing evening. It was on the tour that we learned about the Arles and Van Gogh connection. (I know my sister is shaking her head right now...) For those (very few) of you who don't know, Van Gogh lived in Arles for a few years and was later hospitalized here. It was here that he cut off his ear after his huge fight with friend Gaugin (not quite sure if the 2 are connected as I have heard different opinions on the reasons he cut his ear off.) While I can see the beauty of the region, it was still a little too hot for me and this experience will probably change the way I see Van Gogh's paintings of this time.
We disembarked the train across the street from Paddy's Irish Pub - so you can guess where we went next... Sadly, no pub food and the bartender only spoke French, but there was quite a bit of English heard among the patrons.
Since we needed to feed the kids, we went and got them food at the mini-mart (OK, yes, it was the gas station. Hey, they're kids. They don't care where their pizza comes from) so Brian and I could go find a nice place to eat and have a meal alone. A really good meal we found, with amounts of food that seem impossible to actually finish all of. Of course, I noticed more painfully thin women (French this time) who were actually eating these huge courses too. I. just. don't. understand. it. The night was finished off back in the pub for a last Guinness. On the wall were these words: "Here's to a long life and a merry one, A quick death and an easy one, A pretty girl and an honest one, A cold pint... and another one!" So was the happy ending of a day that started not so happily