We got back from southwest France yesterday and back on the diet.  No more chevre, baguettes, tartes from the boulangerie.....  Actually looking forward to salad and yogurt.  Kinda over did it with the rich stuff these past few weeks. 

As for our trip.  First I must EAT MY WORDS.  I can no longer say "I don't like the French".  I have to be much more specific and say "I don't like the Parisians, Cote d'Azur-ians and the Chamonix-ians".  The people we met on this road trip were all very pleasant and some downright charming!  That was one surprise.  There were many! 

Our destination day one was Arles, in the Camargue, as I HAD to see the wild horsies!  It should have taken about 4 hours and been relatively uneventful but no....  And why?  Because my husband NEVER LISTENS TO ME!  HE decided some time back that we should go over the mountains from Sestriere in Italy, to Briancon in France.  He said it would be scenic as it was a route we'd never taken.  I said, "yes, but it's winter and the roads might be bad, and it will undoubtedly take much longer than if we take the highway along the coast."  I reiterated this a multiple times right up to the time we left on Friday.  But noooooo.  Guess who was right?  And here is the issue.  Though we are talking about major roadways running through the Alps and very busy, ski resorts, Italians are lousy at plowing.  By the time we got to Sestriere, (an Olympic ski resort fer Chrissakes, they should be able to deal with snow!), the roads were terrible and the weather was worsening.  Now if you are like me you probably think that once we crossed over into France the situation would improve as we all know it's the Italians who are lackadaisical about little things like road safety.  You would be wrong.  Again surprise!  As bad as the roads were on the Italian side, at least they pretended to plow and we did in fact see two plows on the drive up the mountains.  The French didn't even try to fake it.  NO snow had been removed, only packed down by the passing traffic.  It was freakin' treacherous!  And the French... they love their tire chains.  Cars were pulled over either putting them on or taking them off all the way down the mountain and usually in the most inconvenient places.  Add to this the fact that this narrow, unplowed, scenic route also happens to pass the only shopping center for 100 square miles with no traffic light at the turn off, it took us nine #%@! hours to get down!!!!

Italy

France

It was another couple of hours to Arles so all in all our should have been 4 hour drive took almost 11.  Should have listened to the wife.....


We got to Arles in time to drop our stuff at the hotel and wander the town looking for a restaurant.  Shelly needed sustenance after the harrowing trip.  Arles is a largish town with a sort of shabby charm.  Lots of peeling paint and crumbling plaster.  The old center is tiny and as the town is so close to the sea it's a summer destination so it was mostly shuttered.  We saw what there was to see with a quick walk around the next morning.  We bought pastries from a boulangerie for breakfast.  Damn those French can bake!  Then it was off to the Camargue to see the seaside, the marshes and the horses! 

The Arena, Arles

Saintes-Maries-de-la-mer

Traditional style house

Horse paths everywhere

Horses and Bulls

Riding school

The area has a long tradition of bulls and bullfighting, (which they still have!), so there are bull farms and bull symbols everywhere.  (also bull meat which let me just say, is disgusting)  The native white horses are mostly domestic but still roam around wild in the marshes and the countryside.  They are stocky and docile and fuzzy!  Saintes-Maries-de-la-mer is one of two towns in the Camargue National Region.  It was almost completely shut down for the winter.


More tomorrow, xxoo me