Not a good start to the day. Ches went off to buy some yogurt for her breakfast cereal bu the Utile was closed. That wasn't really a problem. What was, was when she got home and opened her purse, she discovered that all the money was gone; around 150E. A little later we realised her phone wasn't there either. It now seems that while I was battling demons climbing the hidden staircase at Fort Buoux yesterday, someone opened our boot and helped themselves to the readies and phone. Fortunately or unfortunately, the phone had a global sim with only around $15.00 on it and they wont be able to rack up any gynormous bills on it. Unfortunately it was Sharon's sim. I now have another one provided by the travel insurance company before we left so hopefully it will replace hers.

On the way out for the day at 11:00, we discovered that the only ATM in town had run out of money. I guess the Friday markets and two days of pottery fair had drained it dry. All service stations are closed for Easter and we have a bare 1/4 tank left. This could be an interesting day with just 15E in my wallet and an unknown number of kilometers in the tank.

Just down the road we stopped at Pont Julien. Built in 3BC, it crosses the Calavon River and was part of the Via Domitia, the main road linking Rome with Gaul and Spain. The road is now asphalted over. Until 9 years ago, the bridge was still in use however there is now anew bridge 100 metres up stream. As we walked down to the river to photograph we saw dozens of people settling in for picnics and realised we had left our art home in the fridge. So far this day is going really well. It could get better but not much worse. Actually, seeing this 2,018 year old bridge is pretty good.

Our next destination was Roussillon. It was also the destination of half of the population of France. I've never seen a town more chockers. There are a number of small car parks charging 2E. All were not only full but had at least 10 cars circulating or standing in the roadway waiting for someone to leave. The entry card has 15 minutes free. This is obviously to allow those who don't find a spot to leave without being charged. We were one of them. The streets and all roads leading in and out of town had cars parked on the verge making the road even narrower. All pedestrians freed from their cars were like Browns cows (not yours Lee).

We gave up and headed on to one of the wealthiest towns in Provence; Gordes. Just reward for being one of the most active of "Resistance" villages during WW2. Here we were in better luck. There was a roadside parking spot 100 before the entrance to town at the top of the mountain, so we grabbed it. We had planned on going past Sénanque Abbey on the way in to check on the opening times etc, however we didn't see any direction signs. This was planned as our major destination for the day.

Unlike Roussillon which has stunning ocher cliffs and quarries, Gordes just has Gordes, the town itself. A massive castle built in 1031 sits at the crest and is surrounded by sunny open space and plenty of cafes and sandwich shops. We have never visited a French town with so many boulongarie that make up filled baguettes on the spot, nor seen so many tourists sitting or walking around eating them. Usually the restaurants and cafes are packed but not in this town. We found a stone seat against the castle wall with the sun beaming down and took 15 minutes out for our baguette and pastry.

Having leached all the colour from the town in taking dozens of photographs, we set Tom the task of locating Sénanque Abbey. Bloody hell, around 4km of road descending the 700m down the side of the mountain, one lane with stopping bays for one car every 150m. Fortunately we only met one car coming up. and we were the ones to stop. So intent were we on the road ahead that we didn't even see the vast Abbey beside us at the bottom.

I, and I think Ches as well, love Cistercian Abbeys. I say I think as well, because when I questioned her about how she felt about visiting more of them, she didn't scream but didn't wax lyrical. I don't know that she appreciated what could be in store when as part of the guided tour I pointed out that at the instigation of an abbey in Burgundy, the Cistercians eventually established 700.

Established in 1148, 800 years before Chesies birth year, it was decimated during the Wars of Religion and its one remaining monk was expelled during the French Revolution when it was sold into private hands. Resorting to the net: The site was repurchased in 1854 for a new community of Cistercian monks of the Immaculate Conception, under a rule less stringent than that of the Trappists. The community was expelled in 1903 and departed to the Order's headquarters, Lérins Abbey on the island of St. Honorat, near Cannes. A small community returned in 1988 as a priory of Lérins.
The monks who live at Sénanque grow lavender and tend honey bees for their livelihood.

Again to save you thousands of words, I'll post more pictures. I should however mention that apart from the usual fantastic cloisters that always seem to be the main feature for me, there was one small room (maybe 15x25m), that had a conical fire place and chimney. This was the only heated room in the abbey and designed to burn an entire tree trunk vertically. I spent a lot of time considering how they got the trunk into the fireplace, but came up empty.

By the time we had exhausted the abbey, it was almost 5:00 and we had a decision to make ... and it involved Tom. Should we go on to Fontaine-de-Vaucluse. The fountain, or spring, of Vaucluse, situated at the feet of a steep cliff 230 metres high, is the biggest spring in France. It is also the fifth largest in the world with an annual flow of 630 million cubic metres Basically this spring creates a river straight out of the rocks. We have around 1/4 of a tank of fuel (if the gauge is correct). That's around 12 litres and we get maybe 5 km to the litre, so 60kms. Can we get there and home to Bonnieux. Tom says it is 20km to Fontaine-de-Vaucluse. Lets go for it. After a minor disagreement with Ches when I declared that Tom would take us out of the valley and around the mountain, Tom took us back up the mountain, and to our horror, back to Gordes via an alternative route that took 15 minutes rather than the 5 minutes we had taken to come down the mountain. Bloody Tom. He then wanted to descend from Gordes and go around the mountain as I'd suggested.

Lacking in conviction that Tom could find the place with the petrol (diesel) we had left, we returned home. We really need to consult our road map before accepting Tom's advice blindly.

At home, we decided to eat out. There was nothing on L'Heure Blue by Yoha's menu that particularly appealed, Le Terrail was closed (they had had Lamb on the menu for lunch) and eventually we ended up at La Flambee; supposedly a pizzeria. Much more. Much much more. We now know it is famous for it's Pain de Chevre.. Everyone else seemed to order it so we will have to returne later in the week for the experience.

We didn't do too badly with the highlights being an entree of scallops in a creamy sauce, roast leg of lamb and baby goat (in white sauce) and apple tart. All washed down with the best part of 1 Litre of local red. That really was too much and Ches had no sense of direction when we left the restaurant, nor much control over her legs when hit by the cold night air. She slept well.