We were ambling back from the Tuesday market — a small shopping trip for fish, cheese, freshly picked strawberries and a few vegetables — when we heard a woman’s voice.
“Star Market,” she said, a reference to our shopping bag. “Boston.” We looked up to see a familiar face, Nathalie, who with her husband retired to Aix quite a few years back.
Seven years ago she and her husband Wayne read a piece I’d written about Provence for the Christian Science Monitor and invited us over for an aperitif. That stretched into a dinner of yummy pistou soup. Retired professors from the Midwest, they lived in an old building in central Aix, warm and homey and filled with books. They were alive with stories, his dating back to his years working in Paris to implement the Marshall Plan after World War II.
The last year has been a hard one for them, Nathalie said. There have been health problems. Their golden retriever died at 13. And then came the flood, a water leak in their building that inundated their bedroom four months ago. We chatted awhile, exchanged contact information and headed on. A minute later, she was by our side again. She takes an exercise course, related to Tai Chi, on Mondays. Would we like to join her? We just might.
“You’ve brought sunshine to my day,” Nathalie said before turning back toward her apartment. We’d like to return the compliment.
—————————————
Place Ramus.
Remember the name if you’re coming to Aix. It’s a small square with gorgeous murals painted on the walls 
and some of the best old restaurants in Aix within a few feet. Most tourists flock to Cours Mirabeau, the place to see and be seen or to have a drink. It’s not the best place to eat. From our experience, restaurants there are pricy and not all that good.
Another favorite with tourists is Place des Cardeurs, a large open space surrounded with restaurants. This is a better choice. Some of these restaurants are good, and the square, created in 1963, is a lovely place to enjoy the sun. Still, this is a place for tourists, and many of these restaurants are new since we lived here seven years ago.
Place Ramus has a more permanent feel, right down to the murals that have been painted on the walls there for a long time. Several of the restaurants our landlady, an Aix native, has recommended to us are in or near little Place Ramus. Her list features smaller, older establishments that serve traditional dishes like lapin (rabbit) and daube (a Provencal meat stew). The prices are relatively good. The servings plentiful. I’ll write a separate post on specific places after we sample a few more. But if you’re in a hurry for a recommendation, head for Le Bistroquet, our favorite to date. As I’ve written before, you’ll stretch your money further by making le midday dejeuner your main meal.
—————————————
Judging from the wisps of smoke we’ve seen everywhere in the countryside and in the city, too, the French — great at conservation — still have a ways to go before they can proclaim themselves serious environmentalists. To give the French credit where its due, Americans could learn lots from them about not being wasteful.
Toilets here uniformly are built to use less water for No. 1 than No. 2. Lights often are set on timers. Window shutters help keep in the heat at night and, when opened, let in the sun by day. In our lovely Aix apartment, we can set the radiator heat levels in each room. And the French drive far more fuel efficient cars; the price of gasoline, about $8 a gallon, demands it.
But for all the strong points of French environmentalism, one glaring weakness continues unabated. Open burning of brush and other wood goes on everywhere, sometimes filling the air with a haze of smoke. The burning goes on in urban work sites as well. This morning we almost gagged on smoke walking to town. There was a big fire down the block.
Given their concerns about the environment, it’s time for the French to consider the impact and dangers of at least urban burning more carefully.