Friday 22 October 2010
Last night
The two weeks are over very soon, but I will write about the events of the last days sometimes later. Many more photos will follow as well.
How modern technology has spoilt us
Now I am writing the last home assignment to my pad and as normally I write everything on the computer, I wonder why the spelling error corrections do not appear on the paper.
Thursday 21 October 2010
How I did not go to Avignon or Marseille
Also today was the afternoon off (I was not sure, so I went to the school and asked from the reception), I had the idea to go and have a look of Avignon or, as the Plan B, Marseille. There is a bus connection to Avignon and a regional train connection with Marseille.
Internet suggests that the fastest way of getting from Aix to Avignon with public transport is to take the bus to the TGV station, take the TGV to Avignon, then take the bus from Avignon TGV station to the city centre. But this, however, requires a TGV ticket which has to be booked in advance (and can be rather expensive). So I went to the bus station and looked up.
Bad luck, there indeed are buses that go from Aix to Avignon, but they are meant more for student commuting and not for tourists. I was at the station at about 14:30 hours; one had left at 13:00 and the next (and last) one would leave at 17:00; the latter would arrive at 18:45 in near darkness (the ticket booth of the papal palace is open only until 18:00) and, worst of all, the last bus back would leave at 19:00.
Deciding that a quarter of hours was not enough to see Avignon, I soon found out that the best connection to Marseille is by the local train. I walked to the train station, almost stood its long line, ...but then saw from the information panels that railway is on strike and the trains do not go until 16:11 (it was then about 14:54). So it would be again a walk in the dark, so I decided not to go at all.
Instead I went to the Cité des Livres and saw an exhibition about the history of the journalistic photo.
Internet suggests that the fastest way of getting from Aix to Avignon with public transport is to take the bus to the TGV station, take the TGV to Avignon, then take the bus from Avignon TGV station to the city centre. But this, however, requires a TGV ticket which has to be booked in advance (and can be rather expensive). So I went to the bus station and looked up.
Bad luck, there indeed are buses that go from Aix to Avignon, but they are meant more for student commuting and not for tourists. I was at the station at about 14:30 hours; one had left at 13:00 and the next (and last) one would leave at 17:00; the latter would arrive at 18:45 in near darkness (the ticket booth of the papal palace is open only until 18:00) and, worst of all, the last bus back would leave at 19:00.
Deciding that a quarter of hours was not enough to see Avignon, I soon found out that the best connection to Marseille is by the local train. I walked to the train station, almost stood its long line, ...but then saw from the information panels that railway is on strike and the trains do not go until 16:11 (it was then about 14:54). So it would be again a walk in the dark, so I decided not to go at all.
Instead I went to the Cité des Livres and saw an exhibition about the history of the journalistic photo.
Presentation
We had to make an oral presentation for the class, for which I had done mental preparations since the day this task was given. The problem was that most of interesting material resides at external hard disks, but here I had only the few things I had on the laptop's hard disk.
So I planned to speak about a little science project I have done since last spring, basically about observing bats near where I live.
My mouth dropped open when, by blind chance, on Tuesday a classmate made a presentation also on bats. So I was upset for a while, as I could not just create a new presentation from scratch in two days, if not it was the one I made at an earlier language course, about Alex the parrot, in a neat PowerPoint presentation, but it would have required a major rewriting of its text and well, it would have been reusing an old presentation, too. So I had to shift the emphasis a little from the biology and physiology (where the classmate was definitely a better specialist) to the behaviour, my observation methods and findings.
And, while the Tuesday presentation only mentioned a bat detector, I could show mine!
The teacher told that over the years in the school she had heard about 1500 presentations, but not once about bats, not speaking of two at the same course.
So I planned to speak about a little science project I have done since last spring, basically about observing bats near where I live.
My mouth dropped open when, by blind chance, on Tuesday a classmate made a presentation also on bats. So I was upset for a while, as I could not just create a new presentation from scratch in two days, if not it was the one I made at an earlier language course, about Alex the parrot, in a neat PowerPoint presentation, but it would have required a major rewriting of its text and well, it would have been reusing an old presentation, too. So I had to shift the emphasis a little from the biology and physiology (where the classmate was definitely a better specialist) to the behaviour, my observation methods and findings.
And, while the Tuesday presentation only mentioned a bat detector, I could show mine!
The teacher told that over the years in the school she had heard about 1500 presentations, but not once about bats, not speaking of two at the same course.
Museum tour
As the teachers were on a training on Wednesday afternoon, we had no classes and suddenly I found that I had free time at the time when the museums were open. So I started the museum tour from the studio of Cezanne which consisted more or less from one large room—his studio! Though I did know who Cezanne was before arriving to Aix (and even about his connection with Aix that I read form the travel guide in the train), I do not know much else and so it was a little difficult to me cherish his few surviving personal belongings (a guide told that Cezanne's sister had after her brother's death burnt most of his old furniture, so that some of the furniture is in fact Cezanne's mother's). His paintings were represented as prints, including, of course, the bathing ladies which was painted there. The exhibits included his rucksack, walking stick and four umbrellas.
The next museum on the tour was the nature history museum which are generally oriented at schoolchildren. Apart from the systematic overview of animals and plants which is used to educate visiting schoolchildren, they usually present very interesting local items, so any nature history museum is worth visiting. In Aix this local stuff were dinosaur skeletons and fossilised eggs from the local Mount St-Victoire. Interesting, as were the models of local geological development.
The third museum was the Granet art museum, with metal detector gates at entrance, and much of it housed a temporary exhibition of Kandinsky. A domestic saying We have read about it fits my impressions perfectly.
A series of three halls housed a collection of French 19th-century monumental painting. Curious, and I had not seen such art in such numbers before. 19th century was obviously before photography and photographic wallpaper were invented; and it also was the time when certain areas of the human body were strictly taboo, resulting in depicting a wide range of what later centuries would call medical abnormalities.
The hall below housed an interesting collection of sculptures, many of which were of painted plaster (also 19th c.), this material being rather rare in museum collections by now.
Also on the ground floor there was the 20th century part of the permanent collection, including eight small paintings of Cezanne, a room of Giacometti of which all pieces except one were temporarily on loan elsewhere, and a room of the Cubist art. For a very long time I have not been at an art museum which most rewarding style was Cubism.
The cellar housed an interesting collection of pre-Roman archaeological finds, and thematic selections of paintings in the museum collection (such as Portraits of Children, Portraits of Old People, Ecstasy, or Clothing on Portraits).
Including the three kilometres I walked between the museums, the tour took about two and half hours.
The next museum on the tour was the nature history museum which are generally oriented at schoolchildren. Apart from the systematic overview of animals and plants which is used to educate visiting schoolchildren, they usually present very interesting local items, so any nature history museum is worth visiting. In Aix this local stuff were dinosaur skeletons and fossilised eggs from the local Mount St-Victoire. Interesting, as were the models of local geological development.
The third museum was the Granet art museum, with metal detector gates at entrance, and much of it housed a temporary exhibition of Kandinsky. A domestic saying We have read about it fits my impressions perfectly.
A series of three halls housed a collection of French 19th-century monumental painting. Curious, and I had not seen such art in such numbers before. 19th century was obviously before photography and photographic wallpaper were invented; and it also was the time when certain areas of the human body were strictly taboo, resulting in depicting a wide range of what later centuries would call medical abnormalities.
The hall below housed an interesting collection of sculptures, many of which were of painted plaster (also 19th c.), this material being rather rare in museum collections by now.
Also on the ground floor there was the 20th century part of the permanent collection, including eight small paintings of Cezanne, a room of Giacometti of which all pieces except one were temporarily on loan elsewhere, and a room of the Cubist art. For a very long time I have not been at an art museum which most rewarding style was Cubism.
The cellar housed an interesting collection of pre-Roman archaeological finds, and thematic selections of paintings in the museum collection (such as Portraits of Children, Portraits of Old People, Ecstasy, or Clothing on Portraits).
Including the three kilometres I walked between the museums, the tour took about two and half hours.
French wines
On Tuesday night, after another eight hours of classes, we had a special event where a wine specialist told us about all the wine-growing regions of France, and then we degustated five different wines, taking notes about their appearance, bouquet and taste.
After that, I found it to be the suitable hour of being in the city at the time when the restaurants are already opened for dinner. So I had a lunch of a chef's seafood special, and judging by the waiting time (and that it took about fifteen minutes more after the waitress had told me that it would be ready in just two more minutes) it was excellent. By the taste as well, of course.
Knowing that I still had piles of homework to do, I drank only mineral water, and as I arrived to the restaurant with two small degustating glasses and three more sips of wine in my body, I could have been the first person in the restaurant's history who left it in a less inebriated state than he came.
After that, I found it to be the suitable hour of being in the city at the time when the restaurants are already opened for dinner. So I had a lunch of a chef's seafood special, and judging by the waiting time (and that it took about fifteen minutes more after the waitress had told me that it would be ready in just two more minutes) it was excellent. By the taste as well, of course.
Knowing that I still had piles of homework to do, I drank only mineral water, and as I arrived to the restaurant with two small degustating glasses and three more sips of wine in my body, I could have been the first person in the restaurant's history who left it in a less inebriated state than he came.
Wednesday 20 October 2010
Lunch
Lunch at a cafe facing the Judicial Palace (which clock was 15 minutes slow, by the way: I first thought it did not work at all, as the hands were in an awkward position, but looking later again saw that they had moved). 'Sit facing the market place', suggested the waiter, 'you can watch the market'. Indeed I could—how the sellers were packing their things and driving away, and how the waiters set out cafe tables in the square. During the about 45 minutes, the gentleman upwind from me smoked 4½ cigarettes.
A teacher told today that the minimum length of their lunch break, as stipulated by their union, was 1½ hours. I can understand.
A teacher told today that the minimum length of their lunch break, as stipulated by their union, was 1½ hours. I can understand.
Bad luck of a pizza boy
While walking towards the hotel at around 21:38, I saw the following.
A pizza moped turned right to a larger street and as it seemed, tried to enter the street just across that, an one-way street, from the wrong end. In an incredibly bad streak of luck, the car that was just coming along it the right way, i.e. towards the moped, was a police car... So it immediately put its beacons on and shone like a Christmas tree for a moment (I watched, since I was waiting for the green light on the pedestrian crossing). The police car stopped and three business-minding police officers emerged. The pizza boy stopped as well and the last sight I saw was that the police officers were checking his papers.
A pizza moped turned right to a larger street and as it seemed, tried to enter the street just across that, an one-way street, from the wrong end. In an incredibly bad streak of luck, the car that was just coming along it the right way, i.e. towards the moped, was a police car... So it immediately put its beacons on and shone like a Christmas tree for a moment (I watched, since I was waiting for the green light on the pedestrian crossing). The police car stopped and three business-minding police officers emerged. The pizza boy stopped as well and the last sight I saw was that the police officers were checking his papers.
Exhausted, vol. 2
Again, eight hours of language lessons, then introduction to oenology, then (being in the city at the time when the restaurants were finally open at night) having a dinner of local delicacies. So back at the hotel at nearly 10 p.m., and still loads of homework to do...
Tuesday 19 October 2010
Sunday 17 October 2010
The canyon of Verdon and Moustiers-Ste-Marie
Another day trip, another load of photos, again too tired to write a story, so here are just photos by now.
If I hadn't found the battery charger, then taking pictures during my stay would have stopped at 10:50 today. Then replaced it, and later replaced that with the third which in the evening was empty as well.
Also coming: the French signs. A sign Parking ingrown into a tree trunk was particularly inspiring.
If I hadn't found the battery charger, then taking pictures during my stay would have stopped at 10:50 today. Then replaced it, and later replaced that with the third which in the evening was empty as well.
Also coming: the French signs. A sign Parking ingrown into a tree trunk was particularly inspiring.
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| Verdon, l'Ourbes |
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| Le Grand Canyon du Verdon |
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| Le Verdon, le Grand Margès |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie, Lac de Sainte-Croix |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie, the chapel above the village. Note the ledge used to support the vault when being constructed. Such ledges had been present for all vaults and arches of the nave, though in some places the wall had been hewn smooth. |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie. The parish church, view to the east. This shape of the vault marked the starting transition from Romanesque to Gothic style: a ridge had appeared at the top of the otherwise cylindrical vault, and it used transverse stiffening arches instead of uniform massive vaulting. As the next photo below shows, such vault was still very heavy and acted badly for the (unsupported!) walls. |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie. The paris church, view to the west. The barrel vault has indeed pressed the nave walls quite much out of the vertical (in the areas where the walls did not have supporting buttresses). Note that the vault-constructing ledge is present also here, as it was in the upper chapel. As for the walls, then note how the niches create alternating thinner walls and supporting columns, as typical to the Gothic style. |
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| Moustiers-Ste-Marie, the paris church. The choir has flying buttresses, although its windows are all with the round arches (its nave vault appears to be late 13th-c. though) |
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| Lavender field in autumn |
Saturday 16 October 2010
Mount St-Victoire
A long walk to the Montagne Sainte-Victoire that looms east of Aix and (especially) in a large photo on the wall of my apartment just above the TV. (Haven't seen the mountain from the city—there is no free horizon in the inner city.)
The 8:15 minibus to Vauvenargues had just three passengers, all going for a walk. After the other two left, the driver asked me how far I was going, and then explained me kindly about the two different routes that the returning bus took.
The chateau of Vauvenargues (closed to public) is the last resting place of Picasso, and in the silence of Saturday morning I can easily imagine Picasso (and his dachshund) strolling in the village.
Vauvenargues is a couple of kilometres east of the old mule track that takes straight to the Croix de Provence summit, so I had to walk a little in the morning sun at the southern side of a low foothill.
At around 10 a.m. the morning mist was dissipating, but I still got a few photos with the staggered outlines of the mountains and hills:
(A technical note: these are taken from the JPEG image and slightly tweaked (blacks, clarity and vibrance boosted a little, and cropped), but once an update will be published for my photo managing software that makes it recognise my compact's RAW encoding, I am sure I can get better results.)
The mule track started at 370 m and was steep. In places so steep that I had to zigzag from its side to side for easier walking (it was relatively straight and mostly covered with concrete). I decided to make a drinking pause every 100 metres, and repeatedly set the altimeter alarm to mark another 50 metres climbed. Fighting against gravity is hard.
There was a resting place at 722 m (where the forest ended) where I indeed rested a little and drank (didn't make much pauses earlier). The path continued as a narrow winding path amidst the shrubs. Surprisingly, that part of the ascent was easier than the mule track, as it was not that steep any more.
Another pleasant surprise was that after 722 m there was only a little over 200 m more to climb. My earlier experience with mountain walks (in the Pre-Alps) had been that after the forest ends, there are some 500 metres of bare mountain before the summit. Here there was much less, and the general size of the chapel gave a good indication that it indeed was rather close.
Now the path was covered with limestone that was attached to the ground and possibly rather sharp. Luckily it had been dry for several days and it was not slippery.
The chapel offered views like that:
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| Prieuré |
There was a sign at the chapel that the last leg of the path from the chapel (888 m) to the Croix de Provence summit (946 m) took 10 minutes. Rather much for a mere 58-metre climb (the horizontal distance is less than 150 m). Well... it was true. The last part was one of the worst parts of all the day's walk.
Now I had my earlier experience of mountain walks in Switzerland where falling from a walking path in mountains would have taken some effort. Here it was otherwise: no safety rails, no holding cables, no cut steps. So the ascent to the cross was slow and made me think what the descent would be. But as the cross was just behind the chapel, I climbed to it.
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| Croix de Provence |
Knowing that the worst part of the day was over, I decided to decide only at the corner of my ascent path whether I continue back down on the trail I ascended, or westwards along the ridge towards the Bimont barrage and possibly on foot to Aix. I had earlier dismissed that option as the guide book classified them to be too demanding (as for shoes). Well, my descent was agility over boots, and as the limestone was dry, my outdoor shoes held nicely. During the descent I met maybe a hundred persons coming up eastwards and only maybe five going down westwards. It definitely would have been more easy to ascend that part of the trail, but descent was manageable as well.
Some more nice views:
As walking the 2½ kilometres seemed to last for ages (1 hour 20 minutes) and as it basically involved looking carefully where to step (as not to catch the foot between some projecting stones), I was sure that I will see these stones in front of my eyes at night before falling asleep.
There were more ravens at the ridge (the western part of the mountain that continues at around 600 m for 1½ km). Highly intelligent as they are, they must have noticed that people leave something to eat.
Pity that I am not a geologist, for it would have been interesting to know more about the varying stones. Here is some lichen:
But then the path descended through a soon to be colourful forest to the Bimont barrage:
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| Barrage du Bimont |
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| Lac du Bimont |
At the parking lot of the reservoir dam I saw a group of military recruits being commanded about by a sergeant, such as noticing a deep puddle and ordering them to run through it. Two or three youngsters had obviously just made pressups in another puddle.
There were many people along the forest paths west of Bimont, many on mountain bikes, some even with prams. Often jogging, sometimes with dogs. Many interesting types of forests.
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| Bibemus |
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| What to do with garbage |
Eventually, I reached the city, found myself just on the street leading to the school, and walked straight to the hotel, quite tired after the 24 km walk with 807 m total ascent and 1058 m total descent (according to Google Earth).
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| The walk (yellow line) |
Friday 15 October 2010
Homework
Yesterday evening I was rather tired and was relieved to read from my notes that two out of our four homework assignments were in fact "for Friday", and I happily put them aside.
Then at night I realised that Friday was today, and I still had to do them... very fast in the morning.
Then at night I realised that Friday was today, and I still had to do them... very fast in the morning.
Shopping
On my way from the school to hotel, I walked through the unknown west part of the old town, looking for a bookshop. I want to make a hike on Saturday and I was looking for a topographic map of the St-Victoire mountain. Where else one could find a map than a large bookshop.
Found a second-hand bookshop, but it had no maps. So I walked to the tourist office which had three maps of the mountain; I explained that I wanted the topographic one.
Then went to a nearby shopping centre, to see the photo store I had noticed on Wednesday. No, it did not have a battery charger for my camera. The prices for some large lenses made me rub my eyes, because they by far exceeded those in a photo boutique I had thought was the most expensive photo shop in the universe. And this was just an ordinary media department store, not a specialised one. Photography is expensive in France, I conclude.
Also had a stroll in the bookstore in the same large store, even in the comics' section.
Found a second-hand bookshop, but it had no maps. So I walked to the tourist office which had three maps of the mountain; I explained that I wanted the topographic one.
Then went to a nearby shopping centre, to see the photo store I had noticed on Wednesday. No, it did not have a battery charger for my camera. The prices for some large lenses made me rub my eyes, because they by far exceeded those in a photo boutique I had thought was the most expensive photo shop in the universe. And this was just an ordinary media department store, not a specialised one. Photography is expensive in France, I conclude.
Also had a stroll in the bookstore in the same large store, even in the comics' section.
Photos of the weekend ensured
Found the camera battery charger!!
I had forgotten all about it, as I had not emptied the inside pocket of the suitcase. Now I needed an eraser and thinking where it may be, I took out the suitcase and looked in its inside pocket. Voilà .
I had forgotten all about it, as I had not emptied the inside pocket of the suitcase. Now I needed an eraser and thinking where it may be, I took out the suitcase and looked in its inside pocket. Voilà .
Thursday 14 October 2010
Petanque
Yesterday evening we had one of the several activities of getting to know French culture—petanque! At the petanque field of the city. (Walked there through the corner of the old town near the Maltese church, of which I'll post some photos later.)
I think I have played petanque once or twice earlier, in 2000 or so. This means most of the rules evaded me (such as the throwing order and score calculation). But everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
By the end of our game, I seemed to get the feel of the throws, and could repeatedly throw the metal ball within a few tens of centimetres of the small plastic marker ball. Some similarity with pool (I really do not remember when I played it last; perhaps in 1990) and golf putting, of which I have mainly theoretical knowledge. One bit of golf theory could be put into use: after a high throw, the ball does not roll much; after a low throw, it will.
The game started at 5 p.m., the bar opened at 6 p.m. by which most games had ended. I think our team and the opposing team lost track of the score already after a few rounds ...of petanque, I mean.
I think I have played petanque once or twice earlier, in 2000 or so. This means most of the rules evaded me (such as the throwing order and score calculation). But everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
By the end of our game, I seemed to get the feel of the throws, and could repeatedly throw the metal ball within a few tens of centimetres of the small plastic marker ball. Some similarity with pool (I really do not remember when I played it last; perhaps in 1990) and golf putting, of which I have mainly theoretical knowledge. One bit of golf theory could be put into use: after a high throw, the ball does not roll much; after a low throw, it will.
The game started at 5 p.m., the bar opened at 6 p.m. by which most games had ended. I think our team and the opposing team lost track of the score already after a few rounds ...of petanque, I mean.
Exhausted
Seven hours of classes, last three of them one-to-one tuition which proved to be very useful, much more effective that I had expected.
In electric hardware shop
Needed an extension cord and had to ask it from the salesperson. Before my turn came, I checked the dictionary; no, it wasn't there. So I asked what I assumed was right, and indeed, a simple extension cord was brought. I then explained (much with hands) that I needed one with several sockets, after which the saleswoman brought another one and very kindly explained that the adjective for multiple sockets was multiprise! ☺
Wednesday 13 October 2010
Rearrangement
Some rearrangement of the afternoon classes, resulting in being in a minigroup with just another student and a teacher. Very useful, I think.
Curiously, the first story I had to tell involved a cat which recalled me of a story about a cat which I had to retell in its entirety many years back in school at a similar course when other students were absent and the teacher had all his time only for me.
Curiously, the first story I had to tell involved a cat which recalled me of a story about a cat which I had to retell in its entirety many years back in school at a similar course when other students were absent and the teacher had all his time only for me.
Stories of celebrities
While discussing what celebrities we have met, the teacher told that last year some students (but not she) saw in a bread shop near the school Brad Pitt who appears to own a house in Provence.
The story of a motion picture being filmed at the house next to my office exceeded my linguistic abilities, but in 2006 it happened that one morning a Slovenian coworker rushed in and very excitedly told something to my Slovenian roommate, in Slovenian. Exotic temperament, thought I. Later I heard that the reason of a colleague's exitement had been that, while walking towards the office, she had seen no one else than a life-sized Demi Moore.
The story of a motion picture being filmed at the house next to my office exceeded my linguistic abilities, but in 2006 it happened that one morning a Slovenian coworker rushed in and very excitedly told something to my Slovenian roommate, in Slovenian. Exotic temperament, thought I. Later I heard that the reason of a colleague's exitement had been that, while walking towards the office, she had seen no one else than a life-sized Demi Moore.
Just one thing left behind
I have realised that there is only one useful thing I did not took along: the charger for my camera batteries. The optimistic estimation is that the two charged batteries left have enough juice for about 200-300 photos and if I economise later that week, I may extend this to last at least till Sunday afternoon. After this it would be more or less OK to take photos with the phone, unless I can find a new charger from a camera shop here, but on Sunday there will be a nature trip and Saturday I am planning to make a hike. (Where do they sell topographic maps, I wonder?)
Tuesday 12 October 2010
Another class
The afternoon classes are extra classes, composed of people from all levels of the morning classes. I happen to be one of the two ones from our level, and our level is the highest in the afternoon class, so that once at last it was truly enjoyable.
And I did enjoy it to the last moment and minute.
And I did enjoy it to the last moment and minute.
Sunny
As forecast, today was sunny. It was a market day, and the sad state of fruits in the supermarket got some explanation—much better produce is available on the markets.
In the morning there was a strike. Those who arrived on car or bus were late, as the streets had been blocked. It seems that there are nationwide protests against the governmental plan to raise the retirement age from 62 to 65. From the class window we could see that the protesters were mainly school students. Good to start political activity at such a young age.
After the class I had my lunch at a tiny restaurant, a Spanish one, and then had a little walk in the old town, taking photos, and back for the afternoon for some more classes. After these posted a letter from the post office (nice weighing and stamp-issuing machines), strolled a bit more, through places I had not yet been and visited the local supermarket.
It was a warm day today, and I could see insects and butterflies flying. This means there were also bats in the evening. Of the many gadgets I have taken along, I also have the bat detector; how very convenient, isn't it?
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| The post office was closed until afternoon because of the strike |
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| After the market |
It was a warm day today, and I could see insects and butterflies flying. This means there were also bats in the evening. Of the many gadgets I have taken along, I also have the bat detector; how very convenient, isn't it?
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| Town hall and belfry with the astronomical clock and its Autumn figure |
Monday 11 October 2010
Afternoon
After the lunch break walked back to the school again; the walk took slightly longer that I had expected, now I know it better. Read to which level I had been assigned, and took the first afternoon class, which mainly was about getting to know each other and memorising names. Even though it may seem that some retrograde motion in my progress has occurred, it seems to be a comfortable level to be at.
After school walked back through the cathedral area, took a stroll inside, and at one display of archaeological excavations studied for some time the maps of Roman and Mediaeval Aix. It seems that just under my hotel many Roman ruins had been found (or that the hotel was one of the few buildings in the area before which construction through excavations were made). The Roman and Mediaeval cities did not overlap much, like usual.
Then also visited the local supermarket, just around the corner from the hotel. Its three cheese counters/shelves combined were almost as long as the wine shelves!
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| West window of the cathedral |
Then also visited the local supermarket, just around the corner from the hotel. Its three cheese counters/shelves combined were almost as long as the wine shelves!
Walking in the rain
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| Steet signs are both in French and Provençal |
English
Apparently, Aix has 140,000 inhabitants and 14,000 French students and 4000 foreign students. This explains the ease attempts to ask something in French are replied in English.
Rain
Still raining today morning (like yesterday but more), and all this in an area known to have more than 300 sunny days a year.
Sunday 10 October 2010
Arrival
What a luck, none of my several logistic worries turned into reality.
To start with, the trains. Arriving with the TGV bullet trains, rushing through a thousand kilometres in five hours (plus 57 minutes in between the trains, of which in a moment) meant that I had to get the ticket printouts, for which there is a tickets printout machine at the station. Insert your credit card with which you paid, key in the PIN and there you are! But what if it has run out of paper? It was late in the afternoon. A silly thought, anyway. This was the first and perhaps the smallest of worries.
The second one was, of course, that as the first train leaves at the time when—on Sunday morning—I am mostly sound asleep, there is a chance of oversleeping. No worries, woke up at 5 a.m. and the battery of differently timed alarms in various mobile and landline phones kept suprising me for quite some time.
The third one was the way to the station. As the station is so close, I am pretty much accustomed to that I walk there, if the need be. Didn't even think of calling a taxi, since I vividly remember when my brother visited and I had to relay the argument between him and the taxi driver who was waiting in front of the right house, but in a wrong town, at 5 a.m. in the morning of the national holiday.
So I walked, and as the suitcase has got rather battered over time, the third worry was whether its wheels survive the walk. They did.
The fourth one, or the first major one, was the fact that I had a mere 57 minutes to change stations. I understand the Parisian attitude that, of course, anyone arrives to their city to stay, and no one just passes through. There is no such thing like a central station in Paris where all railway lines could meet.
I knew I had just 57 minutes, and prepared a mental schedule. Arrive at 10:19, by 10:25 I arrive the station's metro station, have to wait for the train at the most for 5 minutes (looked the frequency up beforehand), so 10:30 is the latest I can get to the train. Then 8 minutes to Bastille, then perhaps 2 minutes to change the line, then up to 5 minutes next waiting, then 2 minutes more and I should be at Gare de Lyon at 10:47 at the latest, plus 5 minutes of navigating in the station would bring me to the next train well before 11:00 with 16 minutes to spare.
Some tourism website recommended the bus as the fastest means of changing the stations, but what it it was caught in traffic? Same for a taxi. (Remember Mr. Bean going on holidays?) Then the distance is just about 4 km, so, as a last resort, I could walk.
But everything went swimmingly, it took just 25 minutes to walk off the train, through the station to the metro station, get the ticket (lines everywhere, some booths closed, all vending machines inhabited by very slow people, but luckily one of them had got a wrong ticket and offered me his; it suited me well), enter the metro (with some acrobatics of holding my suitcase on my shoulder—it weighed about 18 kg), walk to the correct platform, wait 1 minute for the train, take it to Bastille, walk to its next platform, wait for the train less than a minute, take a short ride to the next station, and walk through the large Gare de Lyon to the TGV trains. Finally, I had even to wait for 10 minutes before the platform was announced!
The second train trip was a little over three hours and since I could not get a GPS fix, I had basically no idea where we were, until shortly before arriving to Avignon we reached a map I had, so that I could keep the camera ready:
Then, when reaching the TGV Aix-en-Provence station, I had 21 minutes until the shuttle bus, if the train was on schedule. It was a few minutes late, so knowing that the bus station is somewhere downstairs, I first rushed at the wrong direction (towards the airport). Then back and to the right place. The bus was a few minutes late and the platform was basically in a wind tunnel.
First sights of the countryside could be taken already from the train.
From the bus station to the hotel there was a ten-minute walk. At the hotel there were some more worries to worry.
First (or, if counting from the top of this story, the fifth) was if my reservation was alright. It was (to my little surprise).
Second (or the sixth) was if my other credit card functioned. The bank is having just today some scheduled maintenance. It functioned.
Third (or the seventh) was if there was internet connection at the hotel. I was mentally prepared that it was otherwise, and the last time I was so long without internet connection was in 1996.
The room is nice and functional, and the view is like this:
To start with, the trains. Arriving with the TGV bullet trains, rushing through a thousand kilometres in five hours (plus 57 minutes in between the trains, of which in a moment) meant that I had to get the ticket printouts, for which there is a tickets printout machine at the station. Insert your credit card with which you paid, key in the PIN and there you are! But what if it has run out of paper? It was late in the afternoon. A silly thought, anyway. This was the first and perhaps the smallest of worries.
The second one was, of course, that as the first train leaves at the time when—on Sunday morning—I am mostly sound asleep, there is a chance of oversleeping. No worries, woke up at 5 a.m. and the battery of differently timed alarms in various mobile and landline phones kept suprising me for quite some time.
The third one was the way to the station. As the station is so close, I am pretty much accustomed to that I walk there, if the need be. Didn't even think of calling a taxi, since I vividly remember when my brother visited and I had to relay the argument between him and the taxi driver who was waiting in front of the right house, but in a wrong town, at 5 a.m. in the morning of the national holiday.
So I walked, and as the suitcase has got rather battered over time, the third worry was whether its wheels survive the walk. They did.
The fourth one, or the first major one, was the fact that I had a mere 57 minutes to change stations. I understand the Parisian attitude that, of course, anyone arrives to their city to stay, and no one just passes through. There is no such thing like a central station in Paris where all railway lines could meet.
I knew I had just 57 minutes, and prepared a mental schedule. Arrive at 10:19, by 10:25 I arrive the station's metro station, have to wait for the train at the most for 5 minutes (looked the frequency up beforehand), so 10:30 is the latest I can get to the train. Then 8 minutes to Bastille, then perhaps 2 minutes to change the line, then up to 5 minutes next waiting, then 2 minutes more and I should be at Gare de Lyon at 10:47 at the latest, plus 5 minutes of navigating in the station would bring me to the next train well before 11:00 with 16 minutes to spare.
Some tourism website recommended the bus as the fastest means of changing the stations, but what it it was caught in traffic? Same for a taxi. (Remember Mr. Bean going on holidays?) Then the distance is just about 4 km, so, as a last resort, I could walk.
But everything went swimmingly, it took just 25 minutes to walk off the train, through the station to the metro station, get the ticket (lines everywhere, some booths closed, all vending machines inhabited by very slow people, but luckily one of them had got a wrong ticket and offered me his; it suited me well), enter the metro (with some acrobatics of holding my suitcase on my shoulder—it weighed about 18 kg), walk to the correct platform, wait 1 minute for the train, take it to Bastille, walk to its next platform, wait for the train less than a minute, take a short ride to the next station, and walk through the large Gare de Lyon to the TGV trains. Finally, I had even to wait for 10 minutes before the platform was announced!
The second train trip was a little over three hours and since I could not get a GPS fix, I had basically no idea where we were, until shortly before arriving to Avignon we reached a map I had, so that I could keep the camera ready:
 |
| Avignon |
First sights of the countryside could be taken already from the train.
From the bus station to the hotel there was a ten-minute walk. At the hotel there were some more worries to worry.
First (or, if counting from the top of this story, the fifth) was if my reservation was alright. It was (to my little surprise).
Second (or the sixth) was if my other credit card functioned. The bank is having just today some scheduled maintenance. It functioned.
Third (or the seventh) was if there was internet connection at the hotel. I was mentally prepared that it was otherwise, and the last time I was so long without internet connection was in 1996.
The room is nice and functional, and the view is like this:
 |
| View from the room |
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