Jules Heartly| February 22th 2022

As the bus eased around a double-park car, making its way into another bus-stop, and arriving at the edge of the curve, I barely lifted my eyes from the book I was enjoying.  I took a quick look at the stop just to corroborate it wasn’t my stop yet.  I went back to being silent like a forgotten melody.

Then, the throng of passengers  made the bus hall impenetrable, creating a claustrophobic crush  around my seat, so when a fellow passenger inched closer to the book I was holding, I felt inclined to protest, but before I pronounced a word, she said.  “I love their paintings. I even have a copy of  Still Life with a Ginger Jar and Eggplants by Paul #Cézanne on my dining room wall”.  

The conversation flowed and the two miles left for the bus to arrive at the stop at the university felt like only a hundred-meter journey.

I said my good-byes and quickly put the book “Color from Impressionism to post-Impressionism” in my bag.   “Once again I didn’t get to the next chapter,” I mumbled to myself.   

“I wonder if it is something about the book or is it about myself and the time I choose to read it.” I noted to my brain.   As this was not the first time I did not finish the chapter I had started reading a couple of weeks back.  For some reason although I loved to learn about two of my favorite painters, Vincent Van Gogh and Paul Cezanne, I seemed to make very little progress on the reading.   There was always something!   I would doze off in the bus on my way to class, or I would get dizzy from the strong sudden break inflicting  vehicle stops or I would strike conversation with a stranger or a fellow student who happened to take the same bus ride to the University. 

The thing is, no matter what I did, the images of the paintings stayed in my mind, and as I drifted off to sleep at night, I would imagine how great it would be to be there, at the places they have lived, painted, dreamed…  One painting in particular always sparked my imagination, The Cafe Terrace At Night by Vincent Van Gogh.  A copy of which I bought the first time I had the chance to.

As that one song/nursery rhyme from my childhood , Sur Le pont D’avignon (On the Bridge of Avignon) 

(On the bridge of Avignon

They are dancing, they are dancing,

On the bridge of Avignon

They are dancing all around.

The handsome gentlemen go this way

And then again go that way….)

kept playfully sounding in my mind of and on throughout my life, the image of The Cafe Terrace always came back to me and made me feel happy, hopeful, romantic and bohemian. 

So when last year, I ended up on an unplanned visit to the French region of La #Provence,  I thought of #Arles and of course of the #Pont D’avignon.

As you all my readers may know, Provence has scenery and highlights to satisfy almost any visitor. With the dramatic mountains of the Alps, unspoiled medieval villages clustered among the olive groves, lavender fields and many other highlights, there is an enormous choice of things to enjoy. But I for once had my mind set on those two places.  #Arles and #Avignon. 

Although  modern Arles has its festivals, its markets, its bullfights, its International Photography Show, my driving visiting thought was Vincent Van Gogh Cafe Terrace.  

My feelings about Avignon were different.  As  also a historic town on the Rhone river in Provence, and a beautifully preserved medieval one  surrounded by the original fortified city walls, I thought of the 15th century when the song was written. How it would be to live inside the fortified walls or in one of the castles.  Get the feeling for the extremely thick stone walls, walk through the gardens … and enjoy the town view from above.  And of course sing and dance on the #Pont D’avignon.

Looking for a place to stay in Avignon proved to be not an easy task. It was high season and most places were booked.  The ones available were not in the preferred vicinity and my hope for visiting two of my favorite Provence towns was quickly melting  away  like a snowflake in the water .

I stopped the lodging search for a few  hours, and I moved to other mind clearing activities.  After all, it was a beautiful afternoon and the sun was still inviting. 

In the evening, I checked again, perhaps something had opened up, and to my surprise it had!

My eyes sparkled like a star when I noticed what a place was the one that had become available!  An apartment by the St Andre fort, inside a medieval palace.  One with olive gardens and Oh my Goodness!  Could it be true?

The place was in the commune of  #Villeneuve-lès-Avignon, a fortress town, built on the hills, tree-filled, with undulating landscape and architectural beauty, separated from Avignon by the Rhone river.

It was real!  The reservation went through and I was thrilled!  I couldn’t wait to arrive at this place.  Would it be true to the pictures posted on their website? 

As our car passed through the medieval walls and into the ancient property we were going to stay at, an odd  feeling took place.  As if I was living a fantasy!  The place was as  beautiful as a remembered single line of perfect poetry!

The hosts made us feel as welcome as flowers in May.  Above us was the St Andre Fort, in front of us was a beautiful extensive garden with a large  and inviting dining table.  The apartment window’s frame exposed a stone wall  over two-feet deep.  

The place vibrated with history, yet it was modern inside. 

After we settled in, during a gracious welcome drink, we briefly exchanged stories.  I mentioned to Marie, the owner of the place, about my long time love for Paul Cezzane and Vincent Van Gogh work, and right then she told me there was a Paul Cezzane art exhibit at the Carrières de Lumières in the nearby town of Les Baux de Provence….I smiled  as sunshine on a ripening land.

During my stay, of course I visited both the Cafe Terrace in Arles, and the Paul Cezzane exhibit.  I am truly grateful for having lived that experience.   But the visit to those two places is the subject of another blog.  😉

Towards the end of our stay, having an afternoon aperitif with our hosts, I could not help to ask, how they have ended up getting that medieval property? After all, they have lived most of their lives in Paris.  And as around Marie’s lips a smile played like the shadow of a silver cloud upon a sunlit stream, she told me how long time back,  she  and her husband  had visited the region and wished they could live there in a similar place as the one we were at.  And many years later while traveling, during their close-to retirement time, they visited Avignon again and there it was! a property coming up for sale!  The sale was not an overnight thing, but it did become a reality.

And as part of that reality,  there we were, living our dreams, our most inner desires in that moment of our lives when we had  allowed them to manifest themselves.

I was in awe, as deep as the unfathomed endless sea. Who could’ve thought?  How did it happen.  Why didn’t the manifestation of those dreams take place before.   Does the harvesting always take long? 

I am happy for Marie and Chris, our delightful hosts, for manifesting their dreams.  I  am also glad to suddenly see my own visualization materialize when least expected.   

And as I continue to have conversations with friends and strangers alike, I see how this is not an exception but a confirmation of the wonders of the #universe.   

And you, my dear reader, have you encountered realizations like this in your life.   I would like to hear about them.  Do you think they are just mere coincidences? Or  why do you think they take place?

Thank you for reading my blog.

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www.JulesHeartly.com