Tour de Aix-en-Provence

          Like the rest of the hung-over teens of Aix, we had a late start to the day. At around 10 am we feasted over breads, cheese, yogurt and fruit. Yet another beautiful day in Aix left us keen to spend the day outdoors. As the birthplace and home of the famous painter Cézanne, the city of Aix had designed a “Steps of Cézanne” walk that marked various locations throughout the city notable in the life of Cézanne and his artwork. We passed the building that once was a hospital where Cézanne was born, various apartments which Cézanne, his wife, and his son had lived, and the museum which used to be the gallery which Cézanne had once displayed his works. Because many of the buildings had been transformed and commoners used them for humble, personal purposes, I suspected the authenticity of this tour’s claims. Nonetheless, the “Steps of Cézanne” was a great way to explore the city and admire the antique architecture.

            When planning our walk along the “Steps of Cézanne,” I noticed that the ninth destination was extremely removed from the rest of the sites. This point was Cézanne’s grave, and I didn’t expect this to be a particularly worthwhile venture. However, my step dad was set to see the walking tour through to completion. So, we set out on the trek out of the city center. We passed a military academy where parents appeared to be picking up their children for the summer. Finally, we arrived at the graveyard, and I was overwhelmed by the abundance of tombs showering the plot of land. But not just the size and number of graves, but the distinct color and design dedicated to each individual memorial. Most had been decorated with ceramic flowers. Many had stone sculptures shaped like books, and inside each book a porcelain oval insert with a portrait painted on it would represent the individuals buried in that grave. A few tombs even had elaborate structures built with small shrines inside.

Tomb that looked like a log cabin/cathedral.

One of the more interesting tombs.

Intricate shrine inside a tomb.

Cézanne's tomb!

            We weaved up and down just a fraction of the aisles in the graveyard, en route to Cézanne’s grave. Comparatively, his grave appeared quite humble. Only the signage leading to his tomb set it apart from the rest. The amazing art and architecture I saw in the graveyard made the trek completely worthwhile. The vibrant colors and care toward these memorials emanated the love which living family and friends still feel toward these passed folk. As someone who greatly fears dying, this graveyard actually made me feel less pessimistic about dying.

            We continued the “Steps of Cézanne” up until we reached the location of Cézanne’s father’s hat-making shop. At that point, my step dad decided he was hungry, and like classic French people (minus the cigarettes), we stopped at a café for food and drinks. Because we weren’t hungry, my mom and I didn’t completely follow through with the French lunchtime café scene and only ordered drinks. Well, a glass of champagne and a bottle of rose later, I quickly realized why the French order food with their drinks at this hour. Goofy and giggly, we vetoed my step dad’s desire to resume the “Steps of Cézanne” post lunch, and we decided to hop on the 45-minute trolley tour of Aix.

On the way back from the graveyard, I spotted this old model
of a Mini. So adorable!

            The tour began by covering the main street in town, explaining each of the fountains. The fountain in the main intersection of town is the largest water project constructed in the town. The second fountain up the Cours Maribeau served as a trough for sheep in the town, before Aix urbanized of course. The final fountain had naturally sourced warm water. I felt the water and was not struck by the temperature, but that could be because of the exceedingly warm temperature outside.

What we thought may be Cézanne's bike.

            The tour proceeded to explain the architecture and streets. In memory of one of its leaders, the city of Aix named everything in one portion of the town after a the Roman General Caius Sextius Calvinus. As the trolley turned up Rue des Cordeliers, I teleported into the scene from Clueless, where Cher has the revelation that she is in love with her stepbrother, but yet she digresses in front of a shoe store asking herself, “Oo, I wonder if they have those in my size?” Then, our tour guide informed us that we had entered the main shopping street in Aix. I locked eyes with my mother, and we knew where we were going at the end of the tour.

            With my vastly improved map-reading skills, I navigated our way to the Rue des Cordeliers. We bounced from shop to shop, admiring the creative patterns and prints making up each garment. Though, the favorite store of the day had all of its clothes sourced from Saint Tropez. The light, gauzy materials used couldn’t have looked more comfortable based on the Mediterranean weather we had been experiencing. We made our way back to our hotel, stopping in a plethora of shops along the way. My parents even left me in a store, saying they would meet me back at the hotel; I could spend days flipping item by item through clothing racks, especially when admiring trendy French fashions.

No food, no gelato, no phones. 

            Sauntering into our hotel room, dazed by the chic apparel I had just witnessed, my parents informed me that we were meeting our family friends (who organized the bike trip we would embark on the following day) for dinner. I promptly showered and dressed up, inspired by the Aix fashions. I directed us to our friend’s hotel. Realizing that our hotel was much more centrally located, in the thick of terrace dining and nightlife, we walked back the direction we came to locate a restaurant for dinner.

            Since you can’t really go wrong with food in France, we sat at the coziest looking outdoor terrace. I ordered a “Tartine Nordique,” which was an open-faced sandwich topped with fresh goat cheese spread, smoked salmon, greens, tomatoes and fresh lemon. The meal was not quite as divine as the night before, however still tasty and above average. Instead of ordering dessert at the restaurant, we walked to find the gelato restaurant that had stopped my step dad and me in our tracks earlier in the day. I tried one scoop of lavender/honey and another of salted caramel, the salted caramel definitely winning for taste.

The streets of Aix

            Uncharacteristic of the rest of our stay in France, we went to bed very early that night. At 8 am the next morning, we would have to be packed, dressed and ready to depart for our biking adventure in Provence!