Featured Posts, France, Galleries, Slow Lane, Uncategorized Memories of France Posted on January 11, 2019January 12, 2019Author Slowlanefrance I’ve taken of late to posting daily photos of our visits these past five years to Provence, a region where old and elegant fountains and towers rub elbows with contemporary and exciting buildings, like Marseille’s MuCEM.. We arrived in France in 2014 for a sabbatical, and I returned to Provence four consecutive Mays with Emerson College students. This May I won’t be leading students to the Palace of the Popes in Avignon. I won’t watch with them as light dances over the buildings of Aix-en-Provence, where they studied French and lived with families. I’m retired now, but my memories remain. Of music and laughter in the outdoor squares and cafes. And still more music days when markets spill onto the streets and squares, in a spalsh of fresh and colorful food. I’ll remember Aix’s elegant Caumont Art Museum. And walks to the park where Paul Cezanne painted Mont Sainte Victoire. The old city of Marseile with its grand Basilica, boats hanging from the rafters, its Vieille Charite, where the poor once lived. We visited the Mediterranean port of Cassis with its beach beneath the cliffs. And saw this oh-so-French dog at Les Baux de Provence. We visited the antique market and food market at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue And so much more. Mid-summer is hot in Provence so this summer perhaps Paris will beckon again, where Devon, then 7, watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle. We later reached the top and sat by the whimsical fountains outside the Pompidou. Ate waffles in the Luxembourg Gardens, sipped wine in the Tuileries. We definitely will return to the alps and Chamonix And take the lift up the 12,600 feet the Aguille du Midi where the views stretch across borders and an old hiker like me can almost turn back time. Perhaps we’ll visit the pictureque town of Annecy and its lake, where swans preen. Or visit Strasbourg for a night ride on its canals or visit some of the region’s ornate cathedrals. In the end, though, travel in France, and particularly Provence, is about being rather than seeing. It’s a place to sit, to watch, to relax I hope that never changes.