Vaucluse Dreamer

As we’ve come to expect over recent years, things never quite go as planned and so far 2024 has followed the same pattern. So much so, that we were a little worried that a little trip we had been planning for a while may not happen.

Last year was a madly chaotic time, with so much going on that we felt as if we spent most of the time meeting ourselves coming in the opposite direction. We did though, manage to get away for the two trips with our bikes, which gave us a reminder of how nice it was to simply get away from the stresses of day-to-day life and get back to just being us.

Don’t get me wrong, living in Provence is about as good as life can get, and having our little place in Devon gives us the best of both worlds. But it also means that wherever we are, we still have to deal with the paperwork and ongoing issues of life, so we never totally switch off.

Having the couple of breaks away with the bikes did us so much good though (both physically and mentally) Bikes and brocante & Saddlebag of Memories. It was so nice to travel with so little and know that there was no post to be dealt with, no phone calls to make, and not even any bins to take out. It made us realise that even living in Provence, we still need a holiday from time to time.

So we got our thinking caps on and decided to book a couple of early trips away, one around my birthday at the end of January and the second a month later to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary with a trip to the Fête Du Citron and Carnaval de Nice. It feels rather decadent, but in effect we haven’t really been away since 2020, so have some catching up to do.

Of course, we have to plan for Millie and Pusscat to be looked after and have returned to getting house-sitters in, which has worked well for us in the past ( We use Trusted Housesitters ) It’s always nice to know that someone is at home and it has to be said that both the animals seem happy with that arrangement too. They have perfected the art of wheedling their way around the new sitters within minutes of them stepping through the door, as if they realise this is going to be the hand that is going to be feeding them, whilst we go off gallivanting.

So we began to get everything organised, quickly finding a house-sitter and starting to plan where we wanted to go, which turned out to be Paris, Sorrento, Pompeii, Rome and the Côte D’Azur. Simple!

It’s years since we last visited (or even passed through Paris) and we toured Sorrento, Rome and Pompeii when the boys were 4 & 7, and have always wanted to return, so there seemed to be no time like the present to make it happen.

We wanted to travel light (no suitcases, no wheely-bags), just taking the basics and booking accommodation with washing machines, so we can clean stuff as we go. If what I wanted to take didn’t fit in my little flowery rucksack then it wasn’t coming.

Trains were booked, including the TGV from Avignon to Paris for 20 Euros each First Class (prices like that are how to encourage train travel). Flights to Naples were reserved and we researched which trains we will use whilst we’re in Italy too. Such a packed and exciting little trip, without a car.

Then, over Christmas the dice of life rolled again, which resulted in Andy travelling back to the UK for a while, with no certainty that he would be back in time for our trip. With the house-sitter coming, I would have to go somewhere, so started looking at joining Andy for my birthday in Devon instead.

Then a few days ago, it became clear that he would be able to get back in time, but probably not all the way to Provence so that we could start the trip together as planned. Which is why I am on my own as I type this, on the TGV, watching the sunrise as we hurtle through the countryside towards Paris.

After a last-minute rejigging, Andy managed to get to Paris last night and I left home just before 5 this morning, the Luberon glowing under a starry sky, lit by the brightest January moon

We plan to meet at the Gare de Lyon, when I arrive just before 10. It’s ended up being ridiculously romantic. I mean, who wouldn’t want to meet the man of their dreams (OK, apart from Colin Firth) on a railway platform in Paris?

In my mind’s eye, I see me emerging from the steam of a beautiful old locomotive, my heels clicking on the concourse as I elegantly make my way, heart pounding to the agreed meeting point under the elegant old station clock…..

In reality I’ll be there in my jeans and comfy boots, sharpening my elbows to get through the crowds, trying to avoid having my shins bashed by an obstacle course of wheely-bags and cursing as my ticket won’t open the barrier. Before frantically scanning the crowd to try to catch sight of Andy amongst the chaos under one of the digital station display boards..

At the end of the day, I’m an old romantic in a realist’s body, but I wouldn’t have it any other way

So, we have a busy couple of days ahead in Paris, walking the boulevards, visiting the catacombs (who said romance is dead) and having an early start tomorrow to visit one of Paris’s flea markets (my idea of a perfect birthday). We’ll walk miles, smile lots and inevitably sit in cafes just watching the world rush past, before we fly to Naples on Sunday.

A busy, but exciting few days ahead, escaping the realities of life and just enjoying being us.