This photograph is about ten years old. I rediscovered it when searching for something else.
At the time as I took this photograph I remember photographing monkeys playing on the telephone wires that rang from pole to pole along the street and musing on the risks to life one encountered in that lovely country.
Things have come a long way since then, I know, but up-country the same risky scaffolding can be found. It’s to be hoped that the workers are as nimble as these ones were ten years ago.
It’s one of those OMG moments when something I’d been told about but could scarcely believe, actually happened.
I wrote about the Australian Cassowarry in a post a few months ago and now today I read that the bird has actually killed someone.
The cassowary, a large, flightless bird native to Australia and PNG, kept as a breeding bird, had attacked and killed its Florida owner on his own property in Gaineville, Alachua County, when he fell last Friday. It is thought the bird killed his victim using its long 10cm. dagger-like claws.
Cassowaries can be 1.8 metres (6 ft.) tall and the website of the San Diego Zoo describes them as the worlds most dangerous birds and says that it can slice open any predator with a single swift kick.
So, our Australian guide wasn’t just winding me up when he told me about them. Sorry, I misjudged you, Ray!
I have an urge to go to Provence again. I think it’s because my lavender is thriving this year and that the rosemary, thyme, sage and oregano are flourishing as never before that makes me want to immerse myself in the pungent scent of wild herbs crushed underfoot and the juniper, golden broom, and cistus that cover the hills of Provence.
I like the journey there too, on the Eurostar from London (less than 6 hours): with a change at Paris, there is enough time to enjoy a leisurely meal to get the trip off to a good start. The views from Paris down to Avignon of tiny, half-deserted medieval villages perched on steep hillsides, red geraniums and lime-green ferns tumbling over balconies, fertile valleys of yellow corn and wheat, occasionally highlighted with a blaze of red poppies like a Van Gogh landscape, and the occasional field of wild irises and lavender, always make me happy that I’ve taken the train to this corner of France.
Avignon: The best viewpoint is from the Gardens of Rocher des Doms above the Palais des Papes. The gardens are not worth the trip for themselves, but there are benches on which to sit to take in the peacocks and the panoramic views over the entire city and the surrounding areas.
If you visit only one monument, make it the Papal Palace, the Palais des Papes, which includes the Popes’ private apartments with some fabulous frescoes, and is one of the musts of Avignon. This emblem of the city, an awe-inspiring monument to the importance of Avignon in the Christian world of the Middle Ages was built in the 1300s by two popes – Benedict XII and his successor, Clement V. It was to become the biggest gothic edifice in all of Europe and is listed as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, along with the episcopal buildings and the Saint Bénézet Bridge.
Next to the palace is the Notre-Dame des Doms Cathedral, built in 1150, with the statue of the Virgin Mary, entirely covered in gold, 6 metres high and weighing 4500 kilos, protecting the city from the bell tower.
The historic centre radiates from the Place de l’Horloge, a popular square bordered by cafés and restaurants. Just like the Place du Palais higher up you could spend the day just watching the street performers. Here is the City Hall built in the mid 19th century over a former cardinal’s palace. Next to it is the 19th-century municipal theatre which houses the Avignon opera.
Avignon is a city full of ancient dwellings, museums, churches, chapels and art galleries and you can easily fill a week here without leaving the city but it also has a hippy, boho area. In the Rue des Teinturiers, a delightful cobblestone street dating from the Middle Ages, the street is lined with wine bars and small restaurants, and artists and musicians mingle here in a village-like ambience. Then there is bourgeois Avignon on one side of the main avenue, the Rue de la Repúblic, a chic designer clothing and luxury shops area. The other side of Repúblicc leads to the Place Pie and the Halles, the famous covered market and meeting place for the people of Avignon.
But most people come to Avignon to see the famous bridge, the St. Bénézet Bridge, built around 1180 (by a simple shepherd, or so goes the story) to link the city to Villeneuve-les-Avignon. Over the years, war and flooding took their toll on the bridge and today, the 12th-century St. Nicholas chapel along with four arches of the bridge are all that remain of the original structure.
The historic region (Luberon) between Aix-en-Provence and Avignon is often cited as being the most beautiful in France, rolling hills streaked with lavender and medieval villages perched on craggy rocks.
Villages like Gordes, a compact hilltop town at the foot of the Vaucluse Mountains which is one of the trendiest places to live in Provence. The ancient Borie village, an impressive complex of stone houses which was once the homes of shepherds and agricultural workers before the industrial revolution, was lovingly restored in the 1970s by a team of archaeologists and locals. There are 300 of these in Gordes.
Roussillon: This area has to be visited, if only for the startling ochre colour of the earth as it is located in the very heart of the biggest ochre deposits in the world. These natural pigments are used throughout the village, the walls of the houses being washed with the traditional ochre rendering, the many different oxides in the ochre sands combining in countless shades.
The hills are streaked with it, and an Ochre Trail has been laid out and marked.
Ochres was mined by the Romans
during their settlement of Provence but only became a widespread, industrial product in the late 18th century when Jean-Etienne Astier had the idea of washing the ochre-laden sands to extract the pure pigment. Today, though natural ochre faces strong competition from synthetic pigments, it remains unrivalled for use in certain applications.
Arles and Aix de Provence. More like Spain or Italy with narrow streets and shady squares it is the gateway to the Camargue. Arles has a Roman theatre ringed by cobbled, medieval streets and is one of the most interesting towns in France.
It was home to Van Gogh in the 1880’s and because of this the town now has a flourishing artistic centre. Buy books on Van Gogh and postcards here which you won’t find anywhere else. The elegant spa town of Aix is Cezanne’s own town where you can visit his workshop and take a guided tour of landmarks in the life of the painter and that of the writer, Emile Zola.
After Arles, Van Gogh went to the pretty little town of St. Remy which nestles at the foot of the magnificent Massif des Alpilles, now classified as the Parc Naturel Régional des Alpilles. Stroll along the boulevards under the shade of century-old plane trees in the evening and raid the boutiques and art galleries for bargains (well, perhaps not, the Provencals are not as slow as Peter Mayle made them out to be and they strike a hard bargain).
And then there is Baux de Provence, officially classified and labelled as “one of the most beautiful villages in France” (by the French).
About 15 Kl from Arles this is a village high up in the limestone-mountains of Les Alpilles, located on a 245m. rocky plateau from where magnificent views of Arles and the Camargue can be had. It is rich in cultural treasures, with 22 architectural monuments classified as “Historic”, including the church, chateau, town-hall, hospital, chapels, houses, doorways and many items of furniture.
The village (pop. 400) has been painstakingly restored, beautiful Renaissance façades and ‘hôtels particuliers’today serving as art galleries and museums, visited by more than one-and-a-half-million tourists a year, even though the visits must be made on foot.
The narrow streets leading up to the Citadelle des Baux are lined with bistros and restaurants with terraces hanging over the cliffs – all with views to die for. Many of these restaurants have international reputations and offer high quality dining.
I’ve probably missed off your favourite village: this is just a sample of what you can see comfortably within a week using local buses. Many years ago we toured the area by car but I found the local transport both easy to understand and very efficient.
In Seville last week I had my camera stolen on the third day of my four-day break, a major blow as this time it was my zoom camera so the images I took were different to those I’d taken on my last visit and, I like to think, better.
However, after an evening of crying into my Rioja, I just had to get on with things and determine to be more careful in future. The loss was my own fault. I had the camera on a table at the Casa de Las Teresas bar, probably the most famous bar in Seville, moved to look at some pencil drawings on the wall in front of me which left the opening for an opportunist to walk by and whip the camera away. My travelling companion had been sitting there too but was looking out through the door at something happening in the street. It was a daring move to grab the camera from under our eyes like that.
We still had four glorious days in Seville which is a genuinely over-the-top city of bulls and flamenco, dark-eyed beauties and white-washed alleys, a blazing sun beating down from a dark blue sky and never-ending late nights. It’s the place to go if you’ve fallen for the romance of Carmen, Hemingway’s Toreros, and the lure of castanets and cante hondo, and if you want to drink manzanilla in a white-washed bodega late at night, or ride through the dappled park in a horse and carriage. Seville is Spain’s party town and I love it. I was seduced by its magic a long time ago and have never recovered.
We spent most of our time wandering the old streets of Santa Cruz, but we also managed to spend one afternoon at the Plaza de España, one of Seville’s show-offy bits, built for the Ibero-American Exhibition of 1929 (Expo 29) and located in Maria Luisa Park. The following photographs were all taken 3-5 years ago.
This massive building is the city’s most impressive edifice – after the cathedral – for its sheer grandeur. Some people hate it, thinking it overblown and ornate, a blot on the older Seville, but I love it. What is certain is that no one should miss it on a trip to Andalucia’s capital, along with the many pavilions in and around the Parque Maria Luisa.
The Plaza de España is a lavish Renaissance/neo-Moorish semi-circular brick building with a tower at either end, major landmarks as they are tall enough to be visible throughout the city, and it is said to be the size of five football pitches. In front of the building, following the curve of its façade, runs a 515-metre canal forming a moat on which hired boats can be gently rowed, a real pleasure when the heat is intense.
Elegantly curving over the moat are four bridges representing the four ancient kingdoms of Spain, Castille, Aragon, Navarre and Leon.
Their supports are made of brightly painted ceramic tiles, which add an extra zing to the architecture, and in the centre of it all is the Plaza itself.
On top of the ground level portico there is a first-floor balustrade with balconies stretching along its length. Along the wall by the canal are 48 alcoves with tiled benches, one for each province of Spain, each with a relevant tableau and map designed on colourful azulejos, the painted ceramic tiles so popular in this part of Andalucia.
In fact, coloured ceramics feature heavily around Plaza de España – the provincial alcoves, the walls, ornate bridges and balustrades being all covered in painted tiles.
The architect of this amazing building which swings around the plaza in a large semi-circle was Anibal Gonzalez who designed the Plaza to wow the Expo’s visitors and in order to showcase Seville’s talents in industry and crafts. Only this semi-circular pavilion remains from Expo ’29, the others are now used as museums: the Pabellon de Bellas Artes is now the Archaeological Museum, and the Pabellon Mudejar now houses the Museo de Artes y Costumbres Populares.
For me, the best way to approach the Plaza de España is by horse and carriage. Touristy, I know, but a ride through Maria Louisa Park to this lavish display of Spanishness, is very Sevillana and highly recommended. Pick a carriage up near the Cathedral, or the bull-ring, and fix your price. It’s not too expensive (a 75 minute trip around the main sights of the city will only cost you €40 so you could do that and get off at the Plaza España: if there are two or three of you that makes it very reasonable).
And then it will be time for tapas again, a manzanilla or a fino. Losing my camera didn’t make me stop going to La Casa de las Teresas because the tapas were wonderful, slivers of acorn-fed jamón serrano draped over morsels of bread, little coquinas (clams), skewers of garlicky prawns and pungent tomatoes in a garlicky sauce, washed down with Manzanillo, the delicate wine fromSanlucar de Barrameda. I’ll be back.
N.B. The Plaza de España is situated inside Maria Luisa Park, near the Teatro Lope de Vega and the University. It is also near the Torre del Oro, embarkation point for trips on the River Guadalquivir (also highly recommended) and the Hop on Hop Off bus.