Naturally, we started our trip off with a glass of wine at lunch. After all, it was too late for breakfast.
“Deux verres de vin rouge—um, uh—pas sec,” I said to our waiter. Finally, I just threw my hands in the air and laughed. I meant well, but it seemed unfair to make him suffer for my lack of versatility with the language. He obliged with two glasses of wine and a hearty “Welcome to Provence!”
The first morning, we left to explore Pernes-les-Fontaines, a 10-minute walk from the cozy 100-year-old, two-story farmhouse we would call home for two weeks. We were traveling with Untours, which puts you up in unusual accommodations—perhaps a castle, a vineyard, or a delightful old house like ours where we could “live like a local.” They provide a car, inundate you with information, connect you with a local contact to answer questions, and set you off to see what you want to see when you want to see it. It’s a great option for visiting Europe while remaining socially distanced since we were never on a tour bus.
A supermarket is located near Pernes, but it’s so much more French to stop at the individual butcher, baker, cheese shop, and produce store to buy provisions, so that’s what we did. In the process, we traversed streets spanning multiple centuries in an afternoon’s outing.
Our first hill town, of which there are more than a dozen within an hour’s drive of Pernes (and they come by their name honestly), was Gordes, said to be one of the “100 most beautiful villages in France.” As it first came into view, perched high upon a hill and enveloped by stone walls overlooking stone buildings overlooking vast vineyards, we didn’t question that designation.
As much as I imagined anything called a hill town to be quaint and picturesque, I wasn’t prepared for the exhilaration I felt upon entering and the awe at the walled surroundings, the sense of being transported back to the 11th century. We took in views that demanded head-shaking wonderment, precarious walkways, and narrow side streets where we could touch the walls on either side with outstretched arms.
From Gordes, it was an easy drive to Roussillon, a town shrouded in varying shades of ochre—a combination of red, maroon, orange, terra cotta, and yellow. Dramatic views of ochre cliffs give the town its unique coloration.
The next town was more a nostalgic stop than anything else—that and the dozens of vineyards we passed en route. Menerbes, the town of Peter Mayle, author of the renowned “A Year in Provence,” is another of the 100 Most Beautiful Villages in France. The canopied entrance alone suggests that. And, of course, there is the de rigueur enthralling view.
Menerbes is quieter, more subdued than Gordes, and with wider streets. While dating back to the 14th century, there is less of a visceral sense of the medieval influence, which contributes to its own personality and livable charm—along with knowing that this is where Mayle did his shopping. Just when we thought we had seen the most charming village, we came by another.
When visiting said charming small places, it’s important to park in the lots outside of town. Don’t even think about driving in the towns themselves unless you’re on a bike. We did—not by choice—and not until we finally found a way out of the one-way, very narrow miasma of traffic did our stomachs return to their designated place in our bodies.
Sunday brought us back to Pernes—this time to a ghost village. Everything was closed down. So much for our plan for an afternoon wine at a cafe. But as we had learned, whatever the village, it’s always a good idea to walk off the main square to see where the people really live.
We found ourselves in a residential area perusing 13th-century corridors with the sounds of everyday life emanating from apartment windows. We had a welcome sense of becoming acquainted with our hometown outside its more touristy main square. There turned out to be more life to the ghost town than we initially thought.
The next day, when visiting a favorite restaurant, our waiter smilingly led us to our “usual table.” Voila, we belonged. Thank you, Untours.
Avignon, a big walled city from the 14th century, was a slightly different experience from our beloved hill towns. Here the operative word is big. Massive medieval monuments dominate the square—churches, palaces, municipal buildings, amphitheaters—dwarfing those straining their necks to take them all in. The Palais de la Pape is here because Avignon was the center of the papacy in the early 14th century before it moved permanently back to Rome. The past somehow feels both overwhelming and imminently present.
As my husband’s eyes were beginning to glaze over at the thought of another hill town, we mixed up our days with a local hike, a visit to a museum, a farmers market, and a festival of bulls in St. Remy.
We also appreciated picking up a baguette and cheese from the market, sipping yet another glass of wine, and dining alfresco at our arbor-covered, garden-enclosed picnic table while we contemplated tomorrow’s adventures. It was the perfect way to end the day and another reason to be thankful for this unique approach to travel.
When You Go
For more information: Untours.com
Fyllis Hockman is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at Creators.com. Copyright 2022 Creators.com
