The Lavendar Festival

This event was held in the lavendar capital of the region, the town of Sault. We had intended to make it there in time for the open-air village lunch, but that did not happen. Perhaps the rose was partially to blame, but we got off to a rather slow start and Rosanna did not head into the shower until 10:20 or so. We also made a detour to view the vacation house that Paul and June have built just down the road. It is unbelievable. It is all newly constructed and looks like it has been there for centuries, and I mean centuries. It is entirely in keeping with the rest of the surrounding buildings which are pre 17th century. There is a huge covered terrace where I could immediately visualize a large convivial dinner party, and next year there will be a swimming pool as well. We must organize a return to this property, which has 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, and custom concrete counters (that is Paul's artistic medium of choice).

Once that visit was over, we had a further detour back home to go to the loo, and then a trip to the bike store as Rosanna needed some repairs due to the rough handling that Ryanair gave to her bike (bent front brake caliper for example). Finally we were off and drove right up Mount Ventoux and over the top to Sault, except that is a very abbreviated account of a journey that took a very long time and occurred almost exclusively in second gear (and I was not even driving). My view alternated between the barren almost lunar expanse of the scree-strewn summit and Rosanna's white knuckles. Of course we missed the community lunch (wherever it was), but we nevertheless dined quite well at a little restaurant (Le Louvre) in the town square. As usual when I am travelling with a vegetarian, I took the opportunity since I was dining out to enjoy a little red meat (entrecote avec buerre maison). We split a half bottle of rose from Tavel. After lunch we wandered around the town before heading home on a rather convoluted route but one that permitted a driver to be in denial about the sheer precipices flanking the roads as it was for the most part tree-lined. Now I am back at the internet cafe. Rosanna was here and we were having a campari and soda (although do NOT order it "avec soda" here as that denotes a flavoured soft drink), but she has finished writing postcards and grown tired of watching me type and so has taken herself across the street to the grocery store to pick up a few things. Perhaps she has also gone off to retrieve her bicycle. Tomorrow we go to Isle sur la Sorgue which has a lovely food and antique market on Sunday and an especially prestigious one (in terms of antiques) this weekend. We either rescue Crystal and Sandra somewhere en route or we retrieve them from the bus station in Vaison la Romaine tomorrow evening. Either way we are committed to dinner at the restaurant of the very kind monsieur who fed me on Friday.