Postcards from Provence and beyond

We always believe that things happen for a reason, and sometimes what appears to be a rather large negative, will result in something positive happening. And that has certainly been the case, this week.

The weekend wasn’t at all what we had planned. The cancelled train had brought our summer cycle adventure to a shuddering and very premature halt, and we were more than a little tired after our unexpected, madly fun, but very exhausting dash to Toulouse by car, to Watch the ProD2 rugby final

But we had a totally new cycle route to plan, and had also spotted a painting by a favourite artist of ours in a Chateau auction, in the Var. Perhaps that would add some light to an otherwise grey week, as even bidding on something is good fun. You never know, we may even win it!

We spent Sunday afternoon, when we returned from Toulouse, in a bit of a daze, booking our tickets for the Provence Rugby Access Match, and registering to bid online in the sale. We must have had a sense that something else was going to go wrong, as we had just managed to get that done, when the wifi to the hamlet collapsed, followed shortly after by a message from Orange to say it wouldn’t be fixed until 19th June. Not what we needed at all, when we have a whole new cycle route (through ‘unknown to us’ areas) to plan, and an auction to bid on.

The painting we had spotted is by Peter Joyce, a contemporary artist, who works both in Dorset and from an old Oyster Shed in the heart of the Marais Breton, with its vast skies, unique landscape and incredible wildlife.

We enjoy filling our house with bits and pieces that we have found over the years, not plumping for a particular style, but rather finding pieces that we love. We have an eclectic mix, but adore each and every piece, and can remember where and when we bought it too. From a small watercolour from a shop in Tetbury in 1989, to a painting of the fishing huts on stilts that we bought from a stall in La Rochelle, on Black Wednesday in 1992, and a painting that took us on a Mad dash to Turin ,just before Christmas last year.

It’s a hobby and we get a lot of joy from it.

We met Peter and his wife, Jo, a couple of years ago, when Jo kindly offered us a place to stay for the night, on our first bike ride down through France, and have since become good friends.

On our first visit, we fell in love with Peter’s art, inspired by the coastal landscapes and views in Dorset and France that he is so passionate about. His paintings draw you in, with texture, movement and an stunning use of colour. We were captivated, and hearing Peter talk about his work, and the process of creating them was really wonderful, adding even more depth to the paintings that we saw.

We finally managed to buy a small piece, a couple of years ago, when I had some of my jewellery in a Timeline Arts Exhibition, organised by Jo, and we have loved it ever since.

You may imagine our surprise, when an alert came through from one of the online auction platforms used by auction houses across Europe, showing one of his pieces coming up for sale in a Chateau, about an hour’s drive away from us. We looked and it was from the same period as the one we had already bought, and eventhough it was a shockingly awful photo, of the piece, we immediately loved it.

We didn’t imagine we would win it in the auction, but had to give it a go.

First problem to overcome was to find somewhere with stable enough wifi to be able to take part in the live auction process. Happily, friends allowed us to use theirs, so on Monday morning, we sat watching the auction, getting a sense of how it was going, and what sort of prices the pieces were reaching.

Of course, the auction stopped for lunch, (it’s France and everything stops for lunch), so we did too, and returned in the afternoon, waiting for the lot to be announced. I love the bidding process, and love the vibe of being in an auction room best, but even watching it online is fun. As our lot drew close, the bubbles of excitement and nerves were popping in my stomach.

A few minutes later, confetti appeared at the top of my phone screen and I had won the painting. I was in a bit of a state of shock, but we were absolutely delighted, and had an excuse for a road-trip into the Var to collect it.

Yesterday, we set off to drive to the Chateau de La Verdière, just over an hour’s drive away, in the beautiful countryside of the hills towards the Gorges de Verdon.

It was a beautiful drive across, and we soon were driving up to the Chateau, sitting high above the village. It’s an incredible structure that dominates the view. A declared Historic Monument, it dates back to the 10th century, but has been altered and developed over centuries to become the largest Chateau in Provence. With 5000m2 of floor space, and 365 windows and doors, it’s a vast and stunning building, although I dread to think what the heating bill would be!

We pulled into the parking area, and entered the courtyard, which had been set up as a collection zone for people to pick up their pieces. The auctioneer’s office had been set up under a gazebo, shaded by an olive tree, and it was all very gentle.

The huge Chateau doors were open, and the circular, stone-flagged entrance hall was filled with pieces that had been brought down from the rooms, for buyers to collect. A steady stream of furniture, costumes and paintings were being carried out by people, delighted with their purchases.

We chatted to the auctioneers, who had come down from Paris to manage the sale, and had clearly enjoyed their few days, away from the city, in the heart of Provence. Who couldn’t have enjoyed working in such an incredible setting?

Once we had paid, we wandered into the entrance hall and spotted our piece, a collage and painting on a piece of wood, which had been set on the floor, ready for collection. It was only then that we realised just how bad the photo of it had been.

It took us immediately to the vast open spaces of the Marais, the deep channels cut through the land, and the soft blue-grey of the light too. None of that had been apparent in the photo, which had flattened it, (removing the texture of the collage) and drained it of colour too. It was also beautifully framed, in exactly the same way as our other piece by Peter. We had loved it in the photo, but in real life, it was a real ‘coup de coeur’.

As other buyers piled pieces up outside, ready to fill vans and trailers, we took our single purchase and placed it on the wall to have a better look, noticing that on the back was a photo of the piece and its name too. We now know from Jo that this means it had been bought from a gallery in the centre of Noirmoutier, which I had visited with her last year.

So, it all felt as if it was meant to be. The train had been cancelled for a reason, and that was for us to be able to buy this piece of art, from an artist that we love, that had originally been bought in a gallery that we have visited, and had been on the wall of a Chateau just an hour down the road from us.

We were grinning from ear to ear.

We finally dragged ourselves away from the view, wondering how we would ever be able to sleep at night in a place like that, always worrying that we hadn’t checked all 365 doors and windows, before going to bed.

Then we took the long way home, taking sinewy back roads through the hills, through Greoux Les Bains, and onto the Valensole Plateau, to take a look at the Lavender fields.

It was a delightful drive across, and we noted a few roads that would be good for future cycling adventures too, before driving past huge fields of pink and mauve Clary sage. the moment we stopped, the car filled with the heady scent of the herb

Then the colours deepened with the expansive lavender fields that are really showing purple now too.

All in all, it was a perfect little day trip out, and it didn’t take us long to find the perfect spot for our new purchase too. Paired with our other piece by Peter, which had been painted a year later, it is really very wonderful, and has put a very large smile on our faces.

So the week has been rather better than we imagined it would be. We’ve even got the first part of the cycle trip planned too, cycling to Nimes, for a train to Clermont Ferrand, before heading north and then west, through the Brenne national park, and into the Loire.

It will be here, before we know it now.