I had an awesome morning.
It started when I woke up at 5:20 am.
That may have sounded sarcastic, I am not being sarcastic.
I woke up at 5:20 am, took a shower and then had tea with my host mom, Dominique. We then went to get her car from the parking garage nearby. It was still dark out, and we were greeted with the smells of baked goods being blown about by the early morning breeze. I commented on the smell and Dominique decided that we must get croissants. When we got them, she took them out of the bag and said with disgust "C'est pas cuit! C'est con, ça!" Basically, the pains au chocolat that we bought were undercooked and she was not pleased. I ate the chocolate out of them anyway.
By 6:10 we were in the car, Dominique, me, and the dog.
We drove out of town, one of the less than 5 times I've been in a car since getting to Europe in January. Cars make me carsick now, more than they used to, but that didn't matter because I was watching the French countryside fly by, gawking at all the rivers and castles and mountains that Dominique pointed out. Not that I would have been able to miss them.
We drove for about an hour before turning off the highway onto a tiny one lane, two way road. Dominique let the dog out of the car and she started running beside the car, Dominique driving slowly behind her as the road led up upward, up the hill to a small town ahead of us. I could see a castle and as we got closer, Dominique began to tell me about how the Marquis de Sade used to live here and about the shul of hart and design américain (ou peut-être anglais) that had a campus here.
Dominique stopped the car, let the dog back in, and then we continued, into town, turned around, parked. I got out, looked around, there were three people talking in the parking lot, but no one else in sight on this crisp Tuesday morning.
Dominique handed me the car keys. "Tu peux promener le chien. Si tu veux.*" The French put a weird emphasis on sentences, my friend Alaska says it's like they're constantly announcing, but this time it felt more like I shouldn't feel pressured to do anything I don't want. This was a morning for peace, traquility, a morning for a stroll.
We had arrived in Lacoste. No, not that Lacoste, this is the village of Lacoste, France in the Vaucluse département. This is a medieval village that was left to ruin at the beginning of the 20th century, and was then rediscovered by Pierre Cardin, who threw immense amounts of money into restoring it and the castle of the Marquis de Sade that is surrounds.
The shul of hart and design américain is the Savannah School of Art and Design and it's buildings are scattered around town. Dominique left me to fend for myself for an hour while she got a massage, and I took the time to walk around town, looking at the buildings where students and professors live, imagining how marvelous it must be to study art in such a small, picturesque town where there are so few distractions from your work.
I should mention that the entire village is build on a hillside (well, compared to the Alpilles around it, it was a hill) and all the streets are tiny ruelles that you feel like you could get lost in, but really the town is a five to ten minute walk across, so you really can't. I should also mention that, despite the fact that it was restored recently, there are no modern buildings to speak of. It is a town of less than 500 people, and every building is built in a traditional provençal style, each building melding into the next as you climb up to the castle. The mairie (mayor's office) was smaller than most of the houses there. Their hours when they are open to the public are from 13h00 to 17h00 (1pm to 5pm).
I should also mention that, to this beautiful, pictuesque town, I did not bring my camera. but I did that on purpose.
I know, I'm nuts.
But here's why:
Because, as I walked through this town, stopping to pet the occasional cat (one was bobtailed!), I saw everything. I saw shots I wanted to capture with my camera, but instead of snapping a picture and moving on, I stood, and stared. I stared for minutes, taking in the incredible view of the misty valley below and the rising sun above the mountains. As I continued further up the hillside I saw a man with a big, bushy, black beard, carrying boots on his back filled with flowers, leaning on his hiking staff as he decended. I felt as if I had flashed back into the 19th century. That man, i swear it, was an impressionist painter for sure. The thing is, if I had been with camera, I probably would have missed that moment, or wanted to take a picture, but instead I just passed quietly, taking in the beauty of the moment, turning back, smiling.
Smiling all the way up the hillside, into the empty moat of the castle. It was a little too creepy up there for me though, so I turned around, back down the hillside, taking a tiny path lined with wild plants. I had to go to the bathroom and considered going in the brush because there was literally no one around, but I felt like that might be disrespectful. Instead I had a wonderful adventure involving free public toilets that are, in all honesty, a hole in the ground that you can flush. That was an interesting experience.
After that lovely time, I took my final 20 minutes in Lacoste to tour the park a bit, take in the view some more, and walk back to meet Dominique. I was so at ease, so at peace after all of it that I didnt even flinch when I helped a big, black beetle who was spinning about on his back, desperately trying to survive. Turning it over with a small branch, I suddenly felt this immense calm and happiness. I felt in touch with the world, knowing that, on this morning, I had known it before most people in this tiny village.
I felt the same when I got to school that morning at 9:30. I looked around the room at my classmates who had rolled out of bed and immediatly come to school and I knew that this morning was truly special, an experience that one does not get every day, or even every year. I had seen the sunrise, felt the air warm with its rays, I had walked the town of Lacoste, tip to tail, exploring every passage I saw along the way and I had done it all alone, in peace, not lonely, and it was magnificent.
When I met Dominique just before we left, she was at the bakery, the only bakery in town. She pulled a pain au chcolat out of a small bag.
"Oui! Ce sont cuits. C'est mieux comme ça, non?**"
Oui. C'est mieux comme ça.
*You can walk the dog...if you like.
**Yes! These are fully baked. It's better this way, right?
