Postcards from Provence and beyond

If I’m honest, I haven’t really got back on my feet yet after finishing our epic and very wonderful cycle ride. Not in the physical sense, as we’ve been back out on the bikes, happily pottering around the valley and into The Alpes de Haute Provence, our legs seemingly content to be turning the pedals again. It’s more that I haven’t really settled back into the rhythm of being at home, having enjoyed those simple days of just looking after ourselves and moving (on two wheels) from A to B, relatively free from the general stress that comes with day to day life. That said, more by accident than design, we seem to have arrived home at the perfect moment.

Whilst we were cycling down, we managed (in the main) to avoid the dramatic storms that seemed to be trying to chase us across France, although just thinking about the one that almost caught us in Carcassonne still brings a shiver to my spine. We had a couple of damp days, and on a couple of others we made it to our accommodation minutes before a storm hit, but otherwise the ‘Weather Gods’ were with us and we had a delightful ride down.

Here in The Luberon though, it had been a different story, with dramatic storms and torrential rain for much of the time that we were riding down. As we had been seeking cold drinks and shade, we had been getting messages and videos from friends showing us the slab-grey skies, the downpours that looked as if someone was simply tipping a bucket of water off the roof, the river running through Apt, and sodden, broken roses and flowers in the garden. Our friends, who had Millie, also became well-experienced in putting on music and helping to keep her calm, whilst the thunder cracked above, although her deafness that has come with age meant she was slightly less distressed than before.

After an exceptionally dry winter, where we have seen little more than 10% of the average rainfall, the area was in desperate need of water, so the downfalls were celebrated, although it still wasn’t enough to allow the restrictions on water-use to be lifted. It did though, give everything a good watering and for the first time that we can remember, the valley is still green in July, with the verges filled with colour, as the wild flowers haven’t been dried to a crisp and there are even some poppies still dancing in the hot, summer breeze.

We could hardly believe the difference when we cycled back along the Veloroute toward home, on what turned out to be the first day in weeks, without a storm in the Valley. The colours were so vibrant, with everything still seeming to have a spring freshness about it, rather than having been bleached out by the early heatwaves that we have experienced in recent years. Also the wild mirabelle and cherry trees were weighed down with fruit, some carrying so much on their branches that they had dropped across the path, unable to hold the weight.

And then we saw the lavender.

I love lavender season, when the purple fields add a much-needed splash of colour to the view of golden crops and green stripes of the vineyards. It may be short-lived, but for a couple of months from early June to late July, the sight, smell and sound of the fields is just a delight. This year though, it seems that Mother Nature has added a few more drops of colour to her paintbrush, as thanks to the rain, the fields are a shade of purple that I have never really seen before.

It’s hard to explain what I mean, but there are different depths of colour and sometimes I have looked at lavender photos that have been re-touched, thinking that they look almost false, as the colour is just too purple. This year though, the lavender has been that colour. It is a rich violet, moving towards indigo, with such an intensity that the air above the fields seems to shimmer with it too.

There are a few of the paler fields, more the colour that I am used to seeing, but in the main the landscape is dotted with vibrant purple stripes, with an occasional soft-pink sage field thrown in to complete the picture-postcard view.

Many of the fields too are filled with other flowers and grasses, thanks to the restrictions on pesticides, which means that in places, the lavender is filled with poppies…

Or yellow daisies…

Or simply swathes of mallow, sheep-bit and the odd self-set sage plant..

I prefer this raggedy, natural look to the fields and although there is something very special about the long, ordered stripes that lead to a beautiful view, like here on the Plateau Des Claparedes…

There is a particular beauty of the multi-coloured fields, filled not just with colour, but with so many insects and butterflies too. They are an absolute haven for wildlife and not only can you smell the fields before you see them, but you can hear them as well. It’s a delightful, calming sound, with the constant hum of bees dapping around the flowers, from the small honeybees, to the large blue-black carpenter bees that pull the flowers over, when they land.

There are also the delicately beautiful butterflies that dance in and out of the flowerheads, their fragile wings flashing from simple black and white dots, to every colour of the rainbow, from the smallest of insects to the elaborate, beautiful large swallowtails, which always make me smile.

Every ride on the bike is a sensory delight, and we stop almost as much as we pedal, just to take in the sight, watch the butterflies and listen to the overwhelmingly noisy peace (I know that sounds odd, but I can’t think of how else to describe it).

Sometimes, we’ll just lay the bikes down and sit at the side of a field, allowing the scent to calm our minds, whilst we continually pinch ourselves that we are lucky enough to call this beautiful place home.

This is the 8th lavender season we’ve seen since buying our little place, and it is by far the best. You don’t need to travel far to be able to enjoy the fields and soak in this very special place, as we found when we took Fifi, our son and his fiancee to take some photos up at Simiane La Rotonde, there really couldn’t have been a prettier setting

One thing I would ask though, is that you enjoy the sight, but please don’t pick flowers from the fields, as this is a farmer’s crop & their livelihood too, and it takes so many flowers to create even one millilitre of essential oil that each bloom is very precious. To use a well-known quote ‘Take only photos, leave only footprints’ – that way the lavender fields that we all love so much will be here for the wildlife (and us) to enjoy for many years to come.

Although I’m not sure when I’ll see it quite this colour again…

We are now in the season of lavender festivals too.

Last weekend it was the Festival in Ferrassieres

It is the Festival in Apt this weekend

Valensole hosts theirs on 16th July 2023

And of course the finale to the season, with the superb Festival in Sault which takes place on 15th August each year

Always fantastically vibrant events that celebrate everything purple!