The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
And a River Runs Through It
It appears we'll be sticking close to home for a few more days, perhaps so we won't lose that primo parking spot! This
fixation reminds me of when I lived in San Francisco where nostalgia was talking about the great parking places you found! (I
did notice that when the slot next to me opened up this morning, it was gone in less than 60 seconds!)
Anyway, a bit of sunshine urged us to get a move on and explore more of the town. In a blinding flash of the obvious, it
occurred to us that while we've been here many times before -- we rented a house outside of town for a week back in 2006 and
brought the group here every week for the Sunday market for the month we were in Ansouis back in 2009 -- we never really got
out of the main part of town. Today we started fixing that.
Our day began, as all good days should, with people-watching and cappuccino -- this time on the square by the church --
before setting out on an extended walking tour. Actually, a ramble would be a more accurate descriptor since we had no
particular destination in mind and no time frame to do it. So we poked our heads into little shops (French merchants do
marvelous presentations of their wares), dodged packs of high school students taking an extended lunch break and generally
meandered through the back alleys.
A light snack here, a cold beer there and we wrapped it up about four hours later when my new knee told me it was time to
stop this foolishness and take a break. My dinner was the last half of the paella from the Thursday market, but not before a
quick walk to the market for salad fixings for Margene ... and another bottle of Gigondas, a lovely Grenache-based red, for
me. (Try it. You'll like it!)
The River Sorgue flows into town from the northeast where it is diverted into dozens of different channels. Back in the day, those channels powered hundreds of water wheels that drove the various industrial machines. There are only about two dozen of the wheels left, reminders of a past life when it was really going on in L'Isle. The water flows in channels large and small, often under many of the houses, driven only by gravity. Eventually all these different streams come back together on the southwest edge of town and the river gently flow on as one. It's a pretty impressive system, all the more so because the water stays crystal clear the entire way.
There are art galleries and a couple of wonderful restaurants in this small area behind the main drag near the train station. We ate at one of the restaurants when we were first here nine years ago and we may get back there yet again. I do recall the grounds were beautifully lit at night, making for a magical first impression.
These days, L'Isle is known as the antique capital of France. There are literally hundreds of
dealers in town, the majority occupying stalls in what I assume are former warehouses. I've been to antique shops before, but
this was like being totally immersed in "brown goods." Generally speaking, the pieces were spectacular (although there were
some questions of scale to be considered ... like that white hutch is at least 10' high!)
The only thing that saved me was the impracticality of trying to get any of it home. Margene threatens to come back one day,
fill a shipping container and go into business. She probably wouldn't be the first. She even made a new friend as we explored
one of the buildings. Assuming we could afford to buy him (as if), we had no idea where in our house there was space to put
him! Whew, dodged another bullet ...
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