Provencal markets never fail to amaze me, and if I could only go to one, I’d choose the Friday market at Lourmarin.

It’s an astonishing place to buy food, with an amazing variety of fresh vegetables, cheese, meats, fresh seafood, bread and other baked goods, spices, olives, olive oil, vinegars, fantastic rotisserie chickens and other prepared foods, all kinds of gourmet goodies, and even a live piglet, lamb and baby goat on display, which I assume can be taken out back somewhere and “prepared” for your roasting pleasure.

But it’s also a great place for us tourists to stock up on colorful tablecloths and other linens, boutis quilts, lavender sachets, olivewood spoons, lovely soaps, pottery, arts and crafts, and other souvenirs.

You can shop for clothing, fashionable and otherwise, jewelry, hats, gloves, scarves, socks, and household goods such as knives and kitchen gadgets and household cleaning brushes, white porcelain dishes in all shapes and sizes, books, toys, and lots of other stuff.

It all moves in early on Friday morning, sets up along the lovely plane trees, in the plaza in the “new” part of the village and along the streets. This time, since I was staying right in the heart of the village, I heard the trucks start to arrive about 5:30 am. By the time I made my way downstairs and around the corner a little before 9, only a few people were still setting up, and the customers had arrived.

I spent a few hours browsing, although I only bought one scarf. (Except for a lifetime supply of tea towels, I never really got the shopping bug this trip and returned home with very little except a few gifts and sea salt, olive oil, and chocolate bars.)

Then I settled down at the cafe with a glass of rose for some serious people-watching as everyone arrived at the cafes for their après-market lunch.

By 3 pm, it was all over and the village was quiet again.

(If you’re reading this in a reader or email, click the title to go to the blog to see the photo slide show.)

The first time we went to the Lourmarin market, back in 1999, it was a small local affair, running down the side of the soccer field where the plane trees are. It consisted of the necessities–cheese, fish, vegetables, olives, herbs, flowers–plus one or two vendors selling Provencal linens and souvenir items like bags of herbes de provence and terra cotta cigales. (I especially remember those because my terra cotta cigale still hangs by my front door holding a small bouquet of lavender.)

I’ve mentioned before how much Lourmarin has changed in the past 11 years, but the change in the market is just astounding. It must be five or six times as big as it was then. The necessities are still here, in greater variety, and there are still Provencal linen, quilt, and souvenir vendors, but there are so MANY other things. Fashionable clothing, white porcelain dishes, jewelry, pottery, art, hats (LOTS of hats — what’s with that?), books, household goods, tea, gourmet food items, all in great abundance and variety.

Today there were lots of people at the market, most seeming to be in a festive mood, but it wasn’t overcrowded at all. Afterward, the cafes were packed until after 3. It was a great, happy day for my big finale.

I took lots of photos, which I will post next week when I’m home and have a big monitor to work with. I seem to have reached the limit of my patience for right now with trying to process photos on this little netbook screen.

I probably won’t post again until I’m home. Tomorrow I plan to visit Aix, tomorrow night I stay at the Marseille airport, and Sunday is the long, long flight home.

Monday was a fabulous day!

Pauline, Steve, Kevin, and I had a spectacular lunch at La Closerie in Ansouis. Kevin, who owns the amazing Le Mas Perreal B&B in St. Saturnin les Apt, was kind enough to recommend the restaurant, make the reservations, and lead us there.

After lunch, we walked around Ansouis a bit, then Kevin took us to see the amazing Sunburst Bridge on the Aigue Brun River. I’ve wanted to see the lovely little 17th-century bridge since I first read about it in the Provence Byways guidebook before our first visit to Lourmarin in 1999, but I could never quite figure out where it was. It completely lived up to my expectations!

Since we were halfway there, we continued on to Bonnieux, where we walked around a bit and stopped for coffee.

Then Pauline fixed us a great dinner in my apartment (my kitchen is bigger than hers).

For the moment, I seem to have figured out my internet access problem this morning. I unplugged the cable from the first thingamajig (technical term) and plugged it into the second one and I’ve had a consistent connection for about an hour, a miracle!

Today St. Remy and the Alpilles.

I really, really love this area of Provence, and Lourmarin especially. We’ve been here several times, so it feels almost like coming home.

Yesterday, I stopped at L’Isle sur la Sorgue in spite of the bitterly cold wind and browsed my way through the Sunday market. (My hands were too cold to take photos, sorry!). I wasn’t really in a buying mood, and too eager to get to Lourmarin to linger long, so before long I was on the road again and here shortly before noon.

The picture at the top of the Lourmarin chateau was taken as I stepped out of the car. I immediately made a quick tour of the whole village, looking for favorite things and changes. The first familiar face I saw was that of Cookie Dog, a regular morning companion for coffee during our last visit in 2007. He’s a little gray in the muzzle now, but still hard at work hustling for bites. The second was the little boy who played soccer in front of the cafe every day. He was about 5 then and 8 now, I’d guess, but still playing soccer in front of the cafe. I think he must belong to someone who works there.

Everything seemed much the same, except that there are many new shops and art galleries since 2007. When we first stayed here in 1999, there may have been one or two little shops. Now there are dozens. I’m ambivalent about whether that’s a change for the better or not, but I can definitely say that Lourmarin wasn’t closed, at least on Sunday afternoon. The cafes were lively and full and the shops were all open.

My apartment is right on the Place d’Ormeau overlooking the cafes that form the heart of the village. It’s a lovely apartment, but a little noisier than I expected. I was prepared for the murmer of people at the cafes during the day, not so much for the young people late at night and the garbage and delivery trucks outside the bedroom window well before dawn. It’s ok, I’ll adjust to that. I’m a little more worried about the spottiness of the internet access, which comes and goes seemingly at random. My posts may be a bit irregular — sorry!

It was such a pleasure to see Pauline and Steve and catch up over dinner after not seeing them for so long.

“Mistral” is such a romantic, evocative name for a wind. Too bad it’s just an annoying, persistent cold wind.

Since today is my last day in this area, I decided I really should see Chateauneuf-du-Pape. I’ve always been intrigued by the vines growing in the rocks, so I wanted to see that, and I was also curious what the village had to offer.

Nothing but tasting rooms, dozens of them! I know in other circumstances that would be nothing but good news, but I really didn’t want to go tasting alone and struggle with the language problem when I don’t know enough about any of the winemakers to choose what to taste.

I’d originally planned to take a wine tour with Olivier Hickman at Wine Uncovered sometime this week. When I first enquired, he indicated that he be running tours this week and he’d let me know what day when it was closer to my trip time. He didn’t, so I emailed him twice before I left. He didn’t answer either one. Now, there may be circumstances that excuse his behavior, but I have to admit I’m not only disappointed, but miffed. If he had let me know, I could have looked for another alternative. (grumble, grumble, grumble)

The wind had begun to pick up here yesterday afternoon and by the time I approached Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which is down in the center of the Rhone Valley right in the Mistral’s path, it was howling. The weather forecast seems to promise that tomorrow will be the worst day and then it will get better. Hope so!

(Tomorrow I move to Lourmarin and meet Pauline and Steve!)