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The Alpilles on our doorstep. Immortalised in paint by Van Gogh, drawn badly last night by one of the guys on our ride! Maybe the Provençal wine gave him an unsteady hand.
I wake up to the smell of lavender outside my bedroom window and hunt for my Love Velo cycle shirt. Shoes still attached to the bike...from memory. Think I too may have indulged in a bit too much wine last night. I jump on my bike and take a leisurely cycle towards the foothills of the mountains chatting away with a girl who back in north London is a pastry chef but in Provence is most defintiely a bit of a flirt! She is fascinating though. So passionate about her food.
We cycle through market towns selling their gleaming fruit and vegetables from old wooden stalls and delve deep into the estates that have acquired unimpeachable wine making pedigree. These grapes have produced Lirac, Chateauneuf-du-Pape. I drink theses grapes!
I can almost taste the fresh mountain air underneath the canopy of the forests. I cruise down towards the snaking Rhône river. The pulsating sound of the river is so crisp, so refreshing, so relaxing. The cool mistral which breezes down the valley gently stirs up captivating scents. Onwards towards Les Baux.
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We wind our way through narrow vineyard paths and isolated olive groves and pass fortified cobblestoned villages. The locals just sit out all day playing Pétanque.
We find some challenging cycling. The Luberon valleys are spectacular. Think “undulations” probably don’t do a couple of the climbs justice. I understand why one valley is called the Petit Luberon, and why one is called the Grand Luberon, but why is one valley called the Oriental Luberon? Must find out later.
Back to the chateau. 75 acres of land just for us. Time for the jacuzzi and then the silky hands of the masseuse.
This trip really is a release for the soul.
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