Provence or the French Riviera or the South France as it is commonly called, is the sunny southern flank of France, bordered to the east by Italy, northeast by the Alps, southwest by Basque country in Spain. Provence and its famous coast are to the Mediterranean as Eve was to Adam’s rib. The Greeks first brought classical culture to this coast in 600 BC when they founded Massilia (Marseille), which thrived as a cosmopolitan colony; the Athens of Europe.
As we approached Provence, we could see the cypress trees and red-tiled roofs and catch the scent of wild thyme and lavender;all against a backdrop of brightly lit landscapes. We stopped the car and got out to enjoy the view and decided to walk through a field; I could feel my feet crunching wild thyme, rosemary and lavender dried in the arid breeze Sheep bells tinkle behind dry rock walls and church bells sound across valleys as easily as over the village wall; in the distance is the pulsing roar of the sea.
Julius Caesar himself claimed Marseille in 49 BC, and thus it came to be Provincia Romana, (Provence) the first Roman stronghold in Gaul. The best of Latin culture flourished here until the fall of the Empire, some of it outliving Rome. The theatre and triumphal arch in Orange; the amphitheatres in Nîmes and Arles; the magnificent aqueduct bridge called the Pont du Gard; the mausoleum, arch, and village ruins in St-Rémy; the villas and baths in Vaison-le-Romaine;these monuments, still standing today, are considered among the best of their kind in existence
Orange is a small, pleasant town that sinks into total siesta during hot afternoons, but at other times buzzes with visitors keen on admiring its Roman remains. A warren of medieval alleys nestling behind a protective ring of stocky towers, Avignon is where seven exiled popes camped between 1309 and 1377 after fleeing from the corruption of Rome.
Marseille, the Mediterranean’s largest port, is not crowded with tourist goodies, nor is its reputation as a big dirty city entirely unjustified. But it still has more going for it than many realize: a craggy mountain hinterland that provides a spectacular backdrop, superb coastal views of nearby islands, and the sights and smells of a Mediterranean melting pot
The world moves slowly in Provence ; until the cell phone rings. Today, Provence and its Côte d’Azur imply a lazy, laissez-faire lifestyle, a barefoot idyll, three-hour lunches, sultry terrace nights, and a splash in the Mediterranean. can you experience the healing balm of the gentle sun, the mesmerizing rhythm of the waves, the squeaky-clean breeze that flows steady and sure from the infinite blue horizon.
The rich of the world, writers and thinkers flock to the southern coast, a fantasy world of gleaming-white villas, of turquoise swimming pools, and flaming sunsets. The Lost Generation found a new home here under the palms;Hemingway, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, and many others, all wrote and lazed on the Riviera.
Grace Kelly married a prince and led her own tiny principality on a cliff over the sparkling blue waters of Monaco; Robert Mitchum was arrested for smoking marijuana and swimming with a topless starlet in Cannes. Brigitte Bardot moved heaven and earth when she swayed, flat-footed and full-lipped, through ’’And God Created Woman’’ in St. Tropez.