If Provence subjected itself to the notion of cool and conceded to get itself a lower east side, it would probably opt for an Anisette-infused leisurely chill on the very same shaded travertine steps that seduced the senses of the Marquis de Sade, Vincent Van Gogh, Nostradamus and You. Not necessarily in that order.
((Fifteen kilometers south from famous, International Theater Festival-hosting Avignon, complete with its weekly, rowdy, village run with the bulls, its international photography festival, its troglodyte Image Cathedral projecting Cezanne’s works on the walls of a symphonic 18-feet high grotto – not to even mention the latest Rose crus, the fragrant markets, orgy-friendly cuisine or the inviting curves of the provencales,)) it certainly seems like the medieval fortified village of Saint-Remy-de-Provence, after enchanting saints and sinners alike, has more than just a few whiffs of lavender to bewitch your blessedness as the sweaty season’s mini-skirted herds line up outside the Gansevoort.
Sure, the journey’s a tad bit longer than the LIRR but they do serve free champagne on the way and in all earnest, what’s a summer fling to do?
Should you find yourself tied-up however, be it by the strings of your purse, the things you do to fill it, the one who enters your nights or shares your breakfast table, you are still in luck… Good old Scally thought of such mishaps and sent a little recruit in reconnaissance…
