പ്രസിദ്ധീകരിച്ചു: 04.04.2023
Now is the time to say a few words about our main destination on this tour.
Two years ago we discovered the Baronnies provençal for ourselves. The natural park between the Drôme in the north and the Provence in the south convinced us with its infinite silence, the rugged mountains that reach up to 1500m in height, and its many different landscapes. The towns of Nyon with its famous olives and Vaison-la-Romain with its famous Roman walls increase the touristic attraction of the area.
Apart from a brief interruption of relaxation due to an unpleasant end to a market visit two years ago https://vakantio.de/chateaugeschichten/montag-der-13 our memories of this picturesque and relaxing region are wonderful.
And even now we are not disappointed. The vineyards and plane trees may not have leaves yet, but it is yellow under the evergreen olive trees, flowers in all colors grow along the wayside, and rapeseed is already in full bloom. Apricot, cherry and apple trees cling to the south-facing slopes, promising delicious fruits with pink and white colors.
The first cuckoo call of the year makes us shake purses and rustle banknotes. It takes a moment for Zappa to find his wallet, then the bird just sends the coins a few days later. Even the occasional cicada is already buzzing in the trees. Even though the lavender is still far from a purple frenzy, the Mont Ventoux majestically looks down from all corners.
Madame la Poste even goes to the smallest and most remote villages perched high on steep slopes, overlooking the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world. Hippies, freaks and alternative people have often settled here, grow organic vegetables, set up tables and chairs in the sun for lunch, happily block the passage while waving, cut each other's dreadlocks and plan the next revolution.
We can currently only fear what it's like here in the main season, but at the moment we are enjoying the peace, tranquility and relaxation.
The days fly by. Many walks through picturesque places or up to the Dentelles de Montmirail, which reach skyward like sharp-edged rock teeth in the Provencal blue sky, extended lunch breaks in the warm sun, identification of plants along the wayside, collecting Provence herbs, and jotting down anecdotes quickly make time fly. Of course, we are both busy capturing appealing and meaningful impressions to illustrate our little stories for you.
I also like to keep Zappa busy repairing things that accidentally break on me.
I would describe it as harmless that I ignore the clattering when opening the Kangoo's trunk. Which results in a loud thud as the cola bottle hits the asphalt and within a few seconds two liters of the delicious elixir are spilled on the gray concrete, the gray car, and my black pants. I imagine it would be more cheerful with champagne. Luckily, the stuff doesn't contain any sugar. It's just annoying that my hero no longer has any cola.
Without my intervention, the ignition electrodes in the gas oven at the Chateau burn out. This is very inconvenient because the weather forecast not only promises falling temperatures with ground frost and low-flying penguins at night. Zappa quickly and quietly removes the flame control window, ignites the flame with a simple match, and then cleans the troublemaker so that we can snuggle up again.
What's worse, shortly after our departure, I hastily, improperly, and without safety instructions tear out the left screw of the new lounge table from sleep mode from the somewhat crumbly caravan wall. It wobbles now! And not just during meals, but all the time!
Luckily, Zappa finds a long screw in the endless depths of his pockets (he has found so many things there!) and can fix the problem. However, I am now discreetly holding back on making modifications in the caravan.
But worst of all, I destroy the irreplaceable, indispensable, and much-needed reading glasses.
To remove the crumbs from the bed that always bother me at night, I place the corner cushion on the now stable lounge table. In doing so, I irreparably break one temple of the glasses and only crack the second one!
These glasses are not only necessary for enjoying literary works, reading maps, and viewing works of art. No, they are also urgently needed at home for repairing, cleaning, and inspecting historical cameras.
This gives me a bad conscience for days. Some people say I should soon start a demolition company.
The little tiger finds a roll of black coroplast in Zappa's pocket and makeshiftly fixes the object, but it still slips off the big nose.
So you see, even when traveling there is no time for boredom. The hero always has to repair, straighten, and screw something, and I am responsible for bringing his great deeds and my guilt to the public.