Aix, Veggies and Pizza

Aix and the Var
Daniel was going to Aix to see his son Kevyn and then both were going on to a vineyard in the Var so he offered to take me along with him. I accepted gladly. The 2-hour drive to Aix passed quite quickly with Daniel pointing out sites of interest and, particularly, a three-span suspension bridge over the Durance just outside Cavaillon which is now by-passed and has a wooden roadway. It would have been interesting (probably in a Chinese sense now) to have been able to cross over the wooden roadway.

Lunch at Kevyn's flat, then on to the obligatory boules, then an apero watching the world go by at a cafe on the Cour Mirabeau, the Champs Elysée of Aix, and then on to a wine tasting evening that Kevyn had helped organise in a seminary. The seminary was built around a large courtyard in the middle of Aix and included a chapel, the chapel of the Oblats. The Oblats were apparently a sect of lay people who wished to observe a quasi-religious lifestyle. The peace and quiet in the courtyard, after the bustle of Aix just outside where we had had the apero was striking. And the wine tasting was informal and enjoyable; a really good evening.

The following morning we were up early to go to the Terre Promise vineyard, about 40-minutes drive away in the Var, which had provided two of the wines at the tasting, a rosé and a red. Kevyn and a number of his student friends work there in the summer helping to get in the grape harvest. It turned out that Jean-Christophe, who bought the vineyard a few years ago and is a wine enthusiast, had sold all his stock of rosé but hadn't got all of it bottled, so needed help with the bottling. We duly piled in and, after a longish but very enjoyable day, had managed to bottle and package 4000 bottles and around 200 magnums. The work was done, by a half-dozen of us, in a great atmosphere: focussed but relaxed and joky with a short sampling break and a leisurely lunch. I came away with half a case of bvery good wine for my pains.

On the journey back, Daniel did a detour to show me more of the Var countryside and the St Victoire mountain, oft-painted by Cézanne. The countryside surprised me in that, being significantly farther south, I had expected it to be more arid than that around Mollans. In fact, the opposite was the case: the greenery was generally much softer, more like southern England or the Morvan in Burgundy.

Vegetables
My terrace is now beginning to look like a nursery. The veggies I've sown primarily for Steve and Jo's veg. garden have needed potting on and there are now myriad pots of tomatoes, aubergines, courgettes, peppers and cucumbers cluttering it up, plus trays of perpetual spinach, broccoli, stock seedlings and sprouting dahlia tubers. This is all very satisfying but the plants in the wall at the back of the terrace are blooming and it's difficult to see them for all the pots around. I've resolved to get most of this sorted by the end of the month so that I can enjoy the terrace. The vegetable plants that Steve and Jo don't want will go to neighbours; Monique has already said she wants some perpetual spinach and Jean-Marc and Florence next door have a new veg. garden with only tomatoes in it so far.

Pizza Evening
The pizza evening tonight was outside on the terrace of the Bar du Pont, the first time this year. Barring rain, it should be outside now until the end of September at least. Even Mt Ventoux has been losing its snow. There's still some on the north side but the south side is clear. To be exact, it wasn't entirely a pizza evening as Roberto came with a huge supply of mussels and chips as an alternative. Whatever.........as my friend Steve commented, it's evenings such as this that remind me why I came out here. “Balmy” is the English word that best describes it and I love such evenings. Also, for the past week I've had the door from the balcony into the living room open most of the day and can now enjoy breakfast and lunch on the balcony. And the flower show out front has started to attract the camera enthusiasts who pass by. That's summer.