Finally got to the Aix en Provence TGV station at 8.30 yesterday evening. As it’s a long way from the town and, although there is a bus, I was too tired to find it, I took an expensive taxi ride in a Tesla, no less, at way more than the speed limit all the way to the hotel. The bloke behind me in the queue had to show me how to open the door……. I have read an appalling article on how Tesla door handles, which are supposed to open automatically in the case of an accident, have actually locked so the emergency services can’t get in and have to watch the driver die in front of them. Anyway….. (not cheerful and a digression).

Last night I watched a bit of a French detective serial – our heroine has started a new job as detective inspector in the small town where she grew up. She is staying with her (interfering and over protective) parents who want to be involved in her cases. In the course of the first episode her husband sends all her stuff over, says he’s leaving her and then doesn’t answer his phone, she finds out she’s 3 months pregnant, she’s accused of getting the job because her parents know the prefect and she finds out that her father is probably not her father. It’s a lot to process for one 1 hour episode!

Since breakfast in the hotel I have been wandering around the old town of Aix en Provence, admiring the 17 and 18C architecture and the chi chi shops. I suspect it is very expensive to live here. (PS from later – it is VERY expensive to live here. They not only have a branch of Sotheby’s Realty but there was a €10 million house in the window!). I am now drinking coffee in a cafe with a view of the town hall.

Most of the centre is semi pedestrianised – there are small delivery vans, the occasional car, mopeds and dinky electric golf cart things that appear to be a tiny bus making a circuit of the town centre. Here are some random pictures.

This afternoon I went to the Cezanne exhibition at the Musee Granet. Cezanne was born here and spent a lot of time here throughout his life. The house, Bastide du Jas de Bouffon, that belonged originally to his father and featured heavily in his paintings has also got an exhibition. Mont St Victoire, also painted frequently, was visible from the garden. This exhibition is part of a festival celebrating his life but the other events – tours of the house and of the quarry where he did a lot of his painting – were sold out.

This evening I have been out for a Breton crepe (!) with some other ladies travelling on their own. Music and dancing in the street was going on as it is still warm enough to eat outside.