Arles

Is it really almost over?  After a week at sea, stopping at some of the world's most famous ports and cities, we finally made it to our final stop, Marseille, France, before returning to Barcelona.

With energy (and finances) running low, Trish and I decided to head out on one of the more moderately priced cruise-sponsored excursion (our first cruise excursion of the trip), to Arles and Aix en Provence.  Juan and Val took on parent duty, deciding to stay close to the ship and exploring downtown Marsaille with mom and dad instead of heading out to the countryside with us.

So early Saturday morning, we boarded our luxury coach, welcomed by our sour-faced tour guide, Sandrine.  If the French are actively trying to combat their perceived hatred of American tourists, Sandrine did not receive the memo.  Our friendly "good morning" was greeted by stone-faced silence. 

We headed to the back of the bus.  For some reason, the other members of our group filed into the front half of the bus leaving the back third empty.  Oh well, more room for us - until another family decided to make their way back as well.  We were feeling territorial until Trish and I realized it was the same friendly American family that snapped a picture of us in Pompeii (the last photo in the Pompeii blog entry).  Of course, we instantly struck up a conversation and spent most of the ride to Arles kibitzing and trading tour stories.

About an hour later, our bus pulled into the small town of Arles, all set up for market day.  The bus parked by the Rhone river, the inspiration for many Van Gogh and Gauguin paintings.  Waving her trusty tour marker above her head, Sandrine began our walk through the historic downtown.  The monument above marks the entrance of the old wall surrounding the city.

The streets of Arles are lined with flower-covered homes.  Just like the quaint streets of my own hometown, Astoria, Queens.  Not.

Arles has its own Coliseum - a bit of a let down after touring Rome's famous Colosseum.

This is the inside of the Coliseum with Sandrine sputtering on about invading hordes and animal cruelty.  I stopped listening after the first Goth invasion.

I wandered away from the group long enough to get this shot of the architecture under the Coliseum.

On our way to the ruins of the Roman Theatre (I didn't get a picture of them because the gates were locked and we couldn't really see anything from the outside walls), I spied this lovely door.

These columns are all that are left of the original Roman ruins in the town square.  Provence has been invaded so many times by so many different people, their citizens must have one hell of an identity crisis.  

Place du Forum also marks the center of the old town, where Van Gogh and Gaugin hung out and got fucked up on absinthe. 

Onward to the main square, Place de la Republique.

Again, we find another beautiful church, the Church of St. Trophime.  Yawn.  Only kidding, God.

Below is a detail of the carvings above the door.  Pretty.

I don't want to sound like spoiled brat, but after having a private guide in every other city the past week, I just couldn't help but be annoyed by our group of galumphing, ill-mannered tourists.  I now see why Sandrine is so sour.  Our back-of-the-bus buddies lost their patience as well and decided to escape the tour.  They quietly disappeared down an alley to explore on their own with Trish and I jealously looking on.

After zoning out to the strains of Sandrine's droning history lesson, Trish and I decided to escape as well, leaving the group in the town square in order to check out the market.

Trish poses in the square (church on the far right), with our group huddled around the obelisk, unaware we'd made our escape.

Some fresh fish in the market.

We clearly made the right decision by ditching the group and heading to the market.  We loaded up on local goat cheese and bread from a local farmer, befriended the only Asian vendor in the market (scoring the Asian discount - i.e. free food), were hypnotized into purchasing even more cheese and cured sausage from a dreamy Bradley Cooper lookalike, bought some trendy outfits from a pair of super cool French designers, and loaded up on all things lavender at a tiny boutique off the main drag.

These are the biggest paella pans I have ever seen.

Since we abandoned the group, Trish and I took our time to leisurely explored the city streets on our way back to the tour bus.  Above is the cute little bungalow I'll be retiring to when I win the Mega Millions.

Trish decided she'd move in a couple blocks away at this charming abode.

We made it back to the bus with time to spare, so we hung out by the Rhone where the river cruise ships were docked.  The lions behind Trish are the ruins of a bridge that once spanned the river.

Here I am on the banks of the Rhone with Arles in the distance.  This view inspired Van Gogh's famous Starry Night.

This Morning's Itinerary:

Dock in Port of Marseilles

Bus tour with guide Sandrine

Drive to Arles

Tour Coliseum

Roman Theatre

Place du Forum

Place du Rebublique

Church of St. Trophime

Visit market

Explore streets of Arles

Hanging out on the Rhone

Next day in Barcelona  

Afternoon in Aix

Previous day in Palma