Quo Vado: 2/22/09

Saturday 2/21- As usual, I left it very close again and had to rush in the morning to get to the train. Thank God I had the foresight to pick a hotel within spitting distance of the station. Besides the expected level of body odor, the train ride was uneventful at about 2.5 hours (non TGV). The only point of note would be the woman who had these hacking cough fits as if she had TB or something. If I get sick, at least I can convalesce in Provence. I moved over to a window seat after someone left- the weather has changed from cloudy to bright sunshine. Cypresses and stubby palm trees have appeared. Must be getting close...

Actually, it's not that warm in Arles. It's very windy and that takes what little warmth there is out of the air. It is sunny, though. I ponder these facts while I wait for a taxi. The station is practically deserted. A taxi finally comes and I get to my hotel. €10. I'll have to avoid that as much as possible. The hotel is nice enough. The lobby gives it a 3-star feel, but the rooms are really no better than the Athena Hotel in Lyon, a 2-star joint. In fact, my room isn't even made up, but the maid came by while I was getting ready to depart. No time to waste, as always.

I wish there were somewhere to eat lunch, but nothing. The walk over to the museum is rather desolate, and I cross a motorway and a canal area. The Roman museum is a modern design, but inoffensive unlike Lyon's Le Corbusier inspired nightmare. Plentiful natural light and artificial lighting allow for good photos. Their primary collection is strong, especially in portraiture. The going is slow. Much like other museums I've been to throughout my trip, I have to deal with children. Some are in school groups, others with their parents. Still others seem to have no supervision at all, running amok and stepping on mosaics. Museums back home are much more civilized, less of a romper room. I guess I can respect the fact that the parents are educating their children of their cultural heritage at an early age, but maybe you should wait until they're out of diapers first. Besides the screaming, the counting and singing in French, the usual waiting for a clear photo takes its toll. The museum closed at 6pm, and I had finished the core collection, but much of the special exhibition didn't get examined. The exhibition happened to be most excellent- basically some of the best Roman pieces from the Louvre, the very ones I lamented not being able to see when I was in Paris. Huzzah! The only problem is that I hadn't budgeted this exhibition into my itinerary. I only allocated this afternoon from about 1:30-6pm for the Museum in Arles- I had no idea of its quality. The only other time for Arles is the afternoon from 2-6pm on Monday after I get back from Orange. Well, I'll have to do some more running, I guess. Even though my train will come in at 1:38pm, I figure I can run to three or four sites in Arles and still make it to the museum by 4pm. We shall see.

It really is a shame, for Arles is one of those special European cities. It can't match Rome for its sheer number of historical layers, or Bruges' late medieval purity or Paris' monumentality. Arles' charm lies in it standing outside of time. The incredibly narrow streets hold both pedestrians and cars- neither very well. One can get lost in the maze of alleys and lanes that make up this essentially Roman city. Arles is one of those cities with few markets and businesses, making one wonder what these people do? I had to walk around in the evening and at night, and consequently the wind and cold tempered my appreciation of the town. Perhaps on Monday afternoon, I will talk a bit more about the city. I did manage to get just about everywhere in a couple of hours, including the theater, the baths and the amphitheater, very well preserved. Very large, too, as it took about ten minutes to walk around. Incredibly hungry, I bought some grub at a little supermarket for lunch and dinner. Tramping home in a Bataan manner, I was actually excited to get CNNi again, if only for a few minutes. I missed my old friend, the Incredible India commercial. So endeth the nineteenth day.

Arles Museum- Pee-eeww!

Nice portrait of a young boy

Knucklebones, pieces from a children's game

Erotes harvesting grapes on a sarcophagus relief

The amphitheater at night

Sunday 2/22- Day trip to Nîmes and Pont du Gard today. Really tough to get up this morning. Went to bed later than I should have. The woman at the desk told me that the walk to the train station would take 25 minutes, but I knew from my tramping around Arles that that figure was optimistic at best. Lowering walking times seems to be a Provençal tradition. Since I was a bit late out the door, I had to run half the way to the station, and it still took 20 minutes to get there. Oh, and the train was late as well.

Got off in Nîmes around 9:30 and was confused. I needed to know where to get the bus at 11am for Pont du Gard, but the information center at the station was closed. I noticed the Tourism Office on a map and I was off. On the way I pass the amphitheater and the Maison Carée, something I've really wanted to see for 13 years. The man was very kind and gave me several brochures of the city and its attractions. I inquired about the bus- it was back near the train station, a twenty minute walk. But more than that, on Sunday there was no 11am bus, only noon and 3:30 or something. The returning times were 1:15 and 7:10, either giving me 30 minutes or an hour then a wait of an hour and a half in the dark. Both not great options. I gave up and thought maybe tomorrow to go from Orange. I could really use an extra day here, more than anywhere else.

It is quite cold here in Nîmes. Very blustery and pretty thick high clouds that mostly obscure the sun. I feel the chill more than usual because I left my fleece liner at the hotel in order to run to the train. Well, I decide to visit the three main Roman ruins and the archaeological museum which I had not known about. The Tour Magne was the first destination, and on the way through Jardins de la Fontaine (gardens built around a natural fountain), I spotted some old vaults which used to comprise the roofing of the Temple of Diana. Very well preserved. Loitered for a bit to explore and take some detail shots, then ascended yet another hill to the Tour Magne, a very tall Roman tower possibly built to express Rome's might. Climbed that for a expansive view of Provence. Then a descent to Maison Carée, a Roman temple to Augustus and his two grandsons, Gaius and Lucius. Because of its remarkable state of preservation, it is famous to students of Roman architecture. It is similar in style to the Republican temple in Rome- high podium, frontal, porch, peripteral with engaged columns, etc. Inside there is a cinema with a 3-D movie of the bloody history of Nîmes. Actually not that bad, through I would have liked to see the interior of the temple.

Then a stroll past the gate of Augustus to the Archaeological museum which was free to enter. Lots of grave steles and upstairs a few decent portraits of Imperial princes. In the museum, a tall guy with a light brown beard came up to me and started speaking French. When I told him I was American, he responded in English something like "you Americans and Japanese, always taking pictures with your cameras." How dare he lump me in with Japanese tourists, perhaps the worst insult imaginable to me. I told him that I was a Roman Art Historian and that seemed to explain my paparazzi actions somewhat. Then it got weird- he asked if he could go and have a snack with me but I would pay since he was broke. "I'm broke too", I replied "and I already ate lunch" (a lie). But I felt sorry for the guy and he seemed nice enough, so I gave him a Euro or so. Then he wrote down some web address and his name- Hans Lundahl. If you search for him on Google, his blog and other stuff will come up. Pretty strange guy. I've always been a weirdo magnet, and so many people have come up to me to ask questions and such, which is torture because I don't know what they are asking and don't even know how to tell them that. The worst is when I actually understand their question, but can't give them a response, so I make a 'buh' face and walk away.

Well, that was fun and time for lunch- I spy a Subway... Now that I have achieved Jared-like status with Subway, I walk towards the amphitheater, one of the best preserved in the world. It seated up to 20,000 people in antiquity, was transformed into a castle and village, and is still used for shows and bullfights. The visit was fascinating- you can basically explore the entire structure (which I did, thoroughly) and get a sense of the spectacles that once took place there. One last glimpse for the memory banks and off to the train station to get an earlier ticket back to Arles. There, I managed to get to the Constantinian Baths before they closed and at least walk around the amphitheater, theater, and cathedral before it got too dark. For dinner I found a little patisserie next to the theater ruins attached to a small hotel. There I got a grilled baguette open-faced sandwich thing, an ice cream cone, a quiche lorraine, a jambon cru and chevré mini sandwich, an Orangina, and an orange and croissant for breakfast tomorrow. Hey, I was hungry and I still saved money over eating out. Maybe I'll splurge and eat out tomorrow night- if I can still stand, that is. So endeth the twentieth day.

Coldest palm tree in the world.

Jardins de la Fontaine- herm statue

Jardins de la Fontaine- fountains

Temple of Diana-entrance

Temple of Diana- some old graffiti, probably architects coming to learn from the ancient structure

Temple of Diana-interior view of barrel vault

Temple of Diana- detail of lintels

Temple of Diana- like all ancient buildings, basically a pigeon coop

Temple of Diana

Jardins de la Fontaine- landscape

Jardins de la Fontaine- steps

Jardins de la Fontaine- grotto

Jardins de la Fontaine- kids practicing martial arts

Tour Magne- view of garden in town

Tour Magne- view of amphitheater

Tour Magne- view of entire town

Tour Magne- surveying the scene

Tour Magne- watch your step...

Tour Magne- exterior (it doesn't capture well)

Jardins de la Fontaine- picturesque house

Temple of Diana- had to return for a self-timer shot

Water from the fountains through town with statue of emperor

Maison Carée- must be said with ridiculous French accent

Maison Carée- pwned

Maison Carée- façade uncleaned

Maison Carée- random statue in movie theater inside

Gate of Augustus

Archaeology museum- funerary altar

Archaeology museum- Julio-Claudian prince?

Amphitheater

Amphitheater- barrel vault

Amphitheater- interior

Amphitheater- check.

Amphitheater- die!

Amphitheater- holographic gladiators

Amphitheater- toro.

Walking along the Rhône

Exterior of the apse in the Constantinian Baths

Interior of apse in the Constantinian Baths

Dude, enough with the inappropriately placed Christmas trees already!

The amphitheater, newly cleaned

Cute little street up from the theater

More of the little street

At the top of street, a view down into the town's narrow roads

UFO-like clouds

A little shrine

Oh the antiquity!

The Fountain in the Cathedral Square

Monday 2/23- My last day in Provence. I'd really like to come back in the late Spring or Fall with a car and just drive around a bit. Today was also a day of some disappointment.

I awoke after another night of too little sleep. Because I'm travelling alone, even though I got back last night at around 7:30 or so, by the time I ate my dinner, wrote my blog entry, resized and uploaded my pictures, copied my camera pics to my hard drive and sorted them, tidied up, did my handwashing and washed up for bed, it was midnight. The phone alarm went off at 6:30 and after a few snoozes, I rolled out of bed. Probably a minute later than the previous morning, I had to run half of the way to the train station again! Not the best way to wake up, running through a cold and deserted Arles for the second day in a row with full winter gear and a backpack on.

My destination was Orange, with its arch, theater, and museum. I had long given up on going to Pont du Gard, and though I am sad about not getting out there, I have little doubt that I will get there one day soon. The train was late, no surprise. I arrived a bit lost, but muddled my way into town in about 15 minutes or so. Any city in America would be open for business by 9am, but not so in sleepy France/Provence.

The tourist information office was still closed, so I walked just out of town to the triumphal arch built by Tiberius. It is one of the very few arches in western Europe outside of Rome that has survived nearly intact. And when I got there, scaffolding and sheeting was all around it. Well, my heart sank immediately. I took two pictures and trudged back into town, fighting the gale force winds throughout.

Cold and disheartened, I went inside the cathedral for some warmth but found none in its bleak and uninteresting interior. Not even picture worthy and that's saying a lot. Tourist info, still not open, so no map forme. Without too much effort I spied the enormous ruins of the theater.

What makes the Roman theater in Orange special is that its stage wall remains standing. This is no minor fact as there are only two others, one on Turkey and one in Syria, which can claim the same. The seats are built into the natural contours of St. Eutrope Hill and could hold 10,000 spectators. The scaenae frons, or the stage wall, rises over 100 feet and is made from solid blocks of stone. Originally, there were columns, marble revetments, and niches for statues, but these decorations are mostly gone now. Like the amphitheater in Nîmes, the theater in Orange survived partly by luck and had been been transformed into a fortified village during the Middle Ages. I was thoroughly impressed by the site and was practically alone the entire visit. I could have done without the wind event, though. It made the self-timer shots a bit nerve racking.

Then it was across the street to the little museum, which contained some minor pieces of note. The marble land reckonings were interesting as were the friezes from the temple near to the theater. But it was time to catch the train back to Arles, and I began to walk back, buffeted by the wind so much as to force me lean into it, forcing me off-balance when it slackened.

Back in Arles it was a return to the more hectic Nick-on-vacation schedule. First the amphitheater which is like that of Nîmes with a similar history. There is still a medieval tower on two sides, one of which is climbed for a commanding view. The only other tourists that gave me any photographic trouble were from a Chinese group, but besides posing around the tower, they didn't stick around too long. Not exactly peaceful, however, since men were doing restoration work and generators and machinery were at full volume.

Next door was the theater. It is not nearly in as good condition as Orange, but still a nice setting. I had to wait for people-less pics until a group of three kids stopped playing on the stage and a really annoying couple ended their PDA session. Kodak moment in hand, I raced to the cathedral, St. Trophime, which is a well-preserved Romanesque affair with excellent carvings in the front portals and a reliquary chapel to beat the band. Attached to the cathedral is the cloister, which was included on my multi-pass ticket, so I couldn't refuse. Almost like the Cloisters in NYC, but still in situ, it had wonderfully carved capitals in the courtyard and a nicely warm and wind protected elevated walkway above the courtyard, offering a splendid view of the cathedral tower.

I dashed out, needing sustenance before finishing my rapid-fire photo shoot at the museum. I got a jambon maxi-sandwich at the Petit Casino and ate on the march, retracing the route I had taken on my first evening, only in reverse. It was 4 o'clock by the time I made it to the museum and there was still much to study and photograph. Beginning where I left off, a statue of a boy with a bulla, a young girl with goddess-like attributes, and a boy dressed as Telesphorus. Right then, a French tour group came through, the guide woman never stopping for a pause as she loudly declaimed her way past. A very annoying 15 minute delay. The sarcophagus of Statius, showing him as a newborn up to when he played on his goat cart and went to school was a standout. Then a French-American couple with their own baby in a stroller shadowed me, only this mute stone spoke- or tried to. I had to endure her screaming baby talk for an hour as they followed me at every move. Again, my photographing causing attention given to pieces ordinarily walked past. Then I realized there was a whole other room in the exhibition that I had not calculated into my timings, so there I was muttering under my breath at the screaming baby while wiping the sweat off my fast moving, camera wielding palms. Fun times.

Somehow I finished with two minutes to spare. The sun was setting and a nice sunset was beginning to form to the southwest. I headed back to my hotel but stopped at a gas station to purchase a water for tomorrow's long train ride. Outside I noticed a sign pointing in the opposite direction that I was walking, reading, "Pont van Gogh". Well, it was getting late and the bridge was off my main map, but I figured that I owed it to Van Gogh and myself to see this bridge that had graced the wall of my childhood bedroom for probably close to 10 years. I struck out in the fading light, initially though a residential neighbourhood, then trough a totally sketchy industrial park- alone and getting dark, I picked up my pace and turned on my mugging radar.

The bridge is in a remote location on a canal. Besides an old man walking his dog nearby, I was completely alone with this bridge and took some good dusk pictures. On the way home I cut through some houses to avoid the bad area and got to the hotel around 7:10. I got a taxi reserved for 4:45, and a wake-up call for 4:15. Then I splurged on room service since I was well spent at this point. I went to the nearly deserted restaurant and ordered the rack of lamb with vegetables and a fruit cup from perhaps the rudest French woman of the trip, and that's saying a lot. Good meal though- I needed it! So endeth the twenty-first day.