THE difference, for the traveler, between a first and repeated visit is crucial. To “go back” is not “to go.” Yet old, familiar places retain a kind of magic, and all the more so when the memories are shared. For our 40th wedding anniversary year, my wife, Elena, and I returned to the place where our marriage began: the South of France. We planned to visit old haunts, the area we’d once called home. Then, we had had all the time in the world; now we could spend a week. Too, there’s a difference between 20-somethings living on a shoestring and tourists “of a certain age” who stay in fine hotels.
“Let’s do it right this time,” I said. “Let’s fly to Nice and stay where we couldn’t afford to before. Let’s ramble down Memory Lane.”
As newlyweds, on a year’s extended honeymoon, we’d lived in the gatekeeper’s cottage of a beautiful old farmhouse in Opio, near Grasse. The mailman would arrive on a motor-scooter, sputtering up the switchbacks of the driveway; the farm plow was horse-drawn. When the mistral blew in winter, the view past Cannes revealed the peaks of Corsica; the coal stove in the kitchen yielded little hot water or heat. Now Opio boasts a Club Med with a spa, and a supermarket has displaced the butcher and the baker; a golf course has replaced the olive groves. And “our” property belongs to Earl Spencer, with locked gates and well-tended lawns and a swimming pool.
It’s difficult to know, in the wake of Heisenberg and Einstein, what is absolute, what relative, and why. Do we change as witnesses, or does that which we witness change, or both; does it alter because of the viewing, and is our estimate altered by the consciousness of sight? Think of a train track and moving train; does the world pass by while we sit still, or is it the reverse? These problems of philosophy and mathematics are personal riddles also; was it always just like this, and did we fail to notice? For we have changed more than the landscape, no matter how the locals complain that the landscape has changed.
“Young and poor,” Elena said. “Old and secure. That’s us.”
THE Nice airport has been enlarged and upgraded, but you no longer exit into flower markets and tree-lined streets with cafes. Instead there’s the “rush” of modernity, and we drove away from it as if from any airport, not one that clings to the bright border of the Mediterranean. Most of the old roads are clotted with cars; others have been reconfigured with pace-slowing roundabouts. It’s a little like memory, really: these sudden dips and halts and circles, with speed bumps crisscrossing the streets. The village of St.-Paul-de-Vence — sleepy and silent the first time I saw it — has become a kind of mecca for tour buses and pilgrims on foot. The Fondation Maeght outside its walls contains the work of Braque, Chagall, Giacometti and other artists who made the region home. Bonnard, Matisse and Picasso lived in the area also, and many of them first came south at the invitation of Paul Roux, a hotelier who said, in effect, “Stay with me for the weekend and leave behind a painting or a sculpture in exchange for a good meal and bed.”
尼斯机场经过扩建，层次显然提高了不少。但出了机场以后，你再也看不到忙碌的鲜花市场和树荫夹道、小馆林立的街衢。与此相反，这里充塞着一种忙碌的摩登生活，我们开车离开这里，与离开世上任何机场的感觉别无二致，而不是离开地中海沿岸某座耀眼城市的机场。大部分的老马路上都挤满了汽车，还修建了许多环状交叉路口来减轻拥堵压力。真的，这跟记忆中的那座城不一样：那些突然的斜坡、刹车、转圈，路面四处可见减速带。旺斯的圣保罗村——当年初见时宁静慵懒、昏昏欲睡的村落，现已变成旅游巴士和徒步旅游者的麦加。小村界墙外的梅格基金会(Fondation Maeght)收藏了布拉克(Braque)、夏加尔(Chagall)、贾科梅蒂(Giacometti)等曾在此地居住的艺术家的作品。伯纳尔(Bonnard)、马蒂斯(Matisse)和毕加索(Picasso)也曾在这里停留。他们中许多人，首次来访都是应了一个名叫保罗·鲁(Paul Roux)的旅馆老板的邀请。鲁当年曾说：“周末来我这里玩吧，我管吃管住，你们走的时候留下一幅画或一尊雕像就可以了。”
It was a brilliant arrangement, and the garden of La Colombe d’Or displays an installation by Fernand Léger; inside, there are drawings and paintings everywhere, with at least two Alexander Calders inscribed to “Mme. Roux.” The artists are gone; the art endures. And somehow every viewing gets superimposed on a previous one, so that the garden is peopled with ghosts. Now, standing rapt before the Léger, I can remember doing so when still a child and at my mother’s side. After her death I found a travel diary she’d kept about the trip: “It is only in France one eats well,” she wrote, having had lunch at La Colombe d’Or.
这交易太值了。今天，金鸽子旅馆(La Colombe d’Or)的花园里陈列着费尔南德·莱热(Fernand Léger)的一件装置艺术作品；旅馆之内，到处都是油画和素描，至少有两件亚历山大·考尔德(Alexander Calders)的作品镌刻着“送给鲁太太(Mme. Roux.)”。当年的艺术家都已离去，但他们的作品仍在这里珍藏。鉴于每个人对艺术的欣赏都会受之前别人观点的影响，所以在某种程度上，这座花园挤满了鬼魂。此刻，我站在莱热的杰作前如痴如醉，仿佛童年时站在母亲身边瞻仰艺术品的瞬间。母亲亡故之后，我在她的一本旅行日志中发现了她对那趟法国南部之旅的描述。“只有在法兰西，人们才能吃得好。”她在金鸽子旅馆吃过午饭后写道。
We also ate there with my wife’s parents on the first New Year’s Eve of our marriage. The two of them were passing through and offered to host us for an elaborate prix-fixe celebratory supper: many courses, much Champagne. The first of the dishes presented was woodcock encased in sauce, and my mother-in-law — a devoted bird-watcher and member of the Audubon Society — lost her appetite. We spent the night consoling her, assuring her that the bécasse had been gently handled as well as well cooked. Our own meal, some 40 years later, was somewhat less dramatic; we ate a basket of fresh vegetables, then snails and rabbit in blood sauce, but left the birds alone. I passed up the chance at a bottle of Château d’Yquem (550 euros; about $788 at $1.43 to the euro) for a cheap local wine. ...
同样在这个地方，我也与我的岳父母吃过一顿晚餐，时间是我俩婚后第一个新年的前夜。那时候岳父母正好路过这里，就提出请我俩吃晚饭以示庆祝。我们选择了那种价格固定的套餐，菜式繁多，香槟也足量供应。刚开吃不久，就上了一道浸在酱料中的鹬鸟。我那身为虔诚爱鸟人兼奥杜邦协会(Audubon Society)会员的岳母顿时失去了胃口。接下来，整个晚上我们都忙着抚慰她，向她保证那只鸟儿经历了温柔的宰杀和慈悲的烹饪。而40年之后，我们的晚餐却远没有那么戏剧：先吃了一筐新鲜蔬菜，接着是蜗牛和野兔沾血做的调味汁，但没有任何禽鸟类。另外，我们主动放弃体验依奎姆酒庄(Château d’Yquem)葡萄酒（每瓶550欧元；根据本文写作时欧元对美元1.43的汇率，合788美元）的机会，点了一瓶便宜的当地葡萄酒……
Which was what we used to drink, in quantity, and often in the company of the expatriate author James Baldwin. I had met him briefly before, then by happy accident in line at the American Express office in Cannes, and we became fast friends. Those were the years Baldwin lived in self-imposed exile on La Route de la Colle, just beneath St.-Paul-de-Vence. Across the road, above the place we parked to enter Baldwin’s property, I would see an advertisement for Le Hameau, inviting the traveler in. But our own home was a dark drive away and, careening tipsily back past midnight with the insouciance of youth, we never stayed in the hotel.
那种葡萄酒，当年我们曾海量畅饮，经常陪我们喝酒的朋友是长年浪迹海外的美国作家詹姆斯·鲍德温(James Baldwin)。很久以前我就与他打过交道，然后在美国运通戛纳办事处排队的时候，我惊喜地发现他也在队列之中，随后我俩迅速变成密友。那些年，鲍德温主动将自己放逐到了偏僻的胶水路(La Route de la Colle)，旺斯的圣保罗村正好在它旁边的山顶。我们走到街对面，在山路上方泊了车，即可步行进入鲍德温的房子。一进门，就能看到小村旅馆(Le Hameau)的广告正对游客热情招徕。但我们住得远，所以总是在黑暗中驾车离开，从来没在那家酒店过夜。我们在午夜逼仄的山路上把车开得七歪八扭，充满年轻人的不羁。
Now, for the first two nights of our trip, Le Hameau was where we slept. The “hamlet’s” buildings are beautifully landscaped, and the staff’s welcome was warm. Baldwin’s home has been abandoned, however, and is now for sale: a melancholy pile of stones where once we’d laughed and talked. To see his roof tiles pillaged and his windows boarded up (though he died long years ago, in 1987) was to gaze at wreckage and think of les neiges d’antan.
That was François Villon’s plaintive query in the 15th century. “Where are,” the poet asks, “the snows of yesteryear?” On our next stop, the mountain village of Gourdon, I thought of yesteryear’s actual snows: how hard it was to drive these roads once they iced over in winter. The curves of the road are still dizzying, incised along (and sometimes through) the cliffs. By way of earning extra cash, Jacques Laporte — the caretaker of the estate where we lived — delivered propane tanks to the few shops and restaurants still open when tourism ceased. Often, I would go along to help haul the heavy canisters, and to share a coffee before the steep descent. Jacques and his wife, Odette, had been our close companions, teaching us to plant and cook and play pétanques, helping “the young marrieds” begin domestic life.
诗人弗朗索瓦·维庸(François Villon)早在15世纪就发出类似的悲伤疑问：“昔年白雪，而今安在？”我们旅行的第二站是一个叫古尔登(Gourdon)的山村。在那里，我想到了当年真正的降雪：冬天的时候，驾车驶过这些结冰的路面是多么吃力。山路蜿蜒曲折，沿着悬崖凿出一条令人头晕的通道（有时候还要在山石中打洞）。为了多赚点钱，我们当年住的那房子的管理员雅克·拉波特(Jacques Laporte)会在淡季为仍然开业的几家商店和餐馆运送燃气罐。我经常帮他搬运那些沉重的罐子，搬完之后我们会在下坡之前一起分享一杯咖啡。雅克和妻子奥黛塔(Odette)是我们非常亲密的朋友，他们教我们种花、做饭、学习当地特有的球类运动“贝当克”，帮“这对年轻的新婚夫妇”开始家庭生活。
We stayed in touch by letter but had not seen one another in years, and now Odette was dead. Receiving us, Jacques wept. Our French was rusty, little used but, phrase by phrase, returning. We talked of family and friends and days gone by, of old stone masons and olive harvests and Julia Child, who had lived across the way. Jacques is well into his 80s now, frail, and full of Gallic outrage at the incompetence of those who today trim the olive trees, or fail to, and full of gratitude to his new young neighbors — a Parisian and his American wife — who have taken him under their wing. Open-armed, the couple welcomed us, and we shared a meal. The afternoon wore on. The church bells of Opio rang.
Someone once observed that, every year, you have to move a kilometer inland in order to find old Provence. It’s an approximate yardstick but does seem to be the case; the farther north you travel from the bustling seafront towns the farther back you go in time. The next village on our itinerary lay in the still-wild Luberon. Peter Mayle has done to that region what the Cannes Film Festival did to the Alpes Maritimes, but in mid-May the roads were empty and the hills and fields retained the look of ancient days. We drove to Lourmarin, a village we had summered in, in 1987 — when our daughters were still with us and not yet mothers in their turn. Here the landscape seems unaltered; a rock outcrop caught the southwest sun as it had done long years before; the olive trees were lifting, glinting, now as then.
有人发现，每过一年，你就必须向内陆多走一公里才能看到真正传统的普罗旺斯。这虽是个大略的估计，但还是很有道理的。从繁忙热闹的海滨城市出发，一路向北，仿佛沿着时光之河逆流而上。我们旅途的下一个村庄位于至今仍一片蛮荒的鲁伯隆(Luberon)。彼得·梅尔(Peter Mayle)对鲁伯隆的影响，相当于戛纳电影节(Cannes Film Festival)对滨海阿尔卑斯省(Alpes Maritimes)的影响。但在五月中旬，这里道路空旷，山丘田野都保留着旧时的样子。我们驱车去了卢玛尔兰(Lourmarin)，1987年我们曾在这个村庄度夏。那时候，我们的女儿们还和我们住在一起，她们尚未为人母。此地风光似乎没什么变化，山顶的石头像亿万年前一样沐浴在斜斜洒落的阳光之中；橄榄树也像当年一样挺拔而闪亮。
Lourmarin has a chateau, a cluster of restaurants and shops and a great deal of charm; it announces itself (as do St.-Paul-de-Vence and Gourdon) as “One of the most beautiful villages of France.” This is the town where Albert Camus lies buried. He said the skies reminded him of those of his native Algeria — bright, wind-swept, unobstructed. He was traveling to Paris when he was in a fatal car crash. His grave has always moved me, and I have walked to it often: like many members of my generation, I cut my eyeteeth on his work. Camus and his wife lie side by side in the village cemetery, with no pride of place, just their names and dates inscribed on simple stones. The irises were blooming; soon, it would be the lavender’s turn; bees buzzed about the graves.
WE stayed two nights in a nearby village, the hill town of Bonnieux. Looking out over the Luberon valley, Le Domaine de Capelongue is breathtaking in its setting, with an ambitious restaurant (and cooking classes offered). Its chef, Edouard Loubet, also owns the Moulin de Lourmarin — a restored old mill in the center of town — but that establishment was not yet open, so we stayed at the Domaine. This is the sort of lodging we could not afford in early years, so there was a double pleasure in driving through the gates. The grounds are extraordinary, perfectly attended to; old granaries and pigeon houses built out of local stone; tiled roofs and ceramic tile floors. The whitewashed plaster walls and heavy beams evoke the distant past.
我们在附近的山村博尼约(Bonnieux)住了两晚。从卡普龙格庄园酒店(Le Domaine de Capelongue)俯瞰鲁伯隆山谷，景色如梦似幻。旅馆内设的餐馆令人惊喜（提供烹饪课程）。厨师爱德华·鲁贝(Edouard Loubet)还拥有一家叫做卢玛尔兰磨坊(Moulin de Lourmarin)的旅馆，位于小镇中心，由一座古旧磨坊改造而成。但我们造访的时候它还未正式开业，所以我们入住卡普龙格庄园酒店。酒店是我们年轻时根本住不起的那种，因此驶进大门时，我们有着双重的快乐。酒店装修特色鲜明，本地石材筑成旧式的谷仓和鸽笼，屋顶铺着整齐的瓦片，地板镶着瓷砖。雪白的石灰墙和结实的梁木让人想起遥远的过去。
But one needn’t idealize that past; this area was emptied out at least in part by slaughter and, of course, the plague. When Pope Alexander III decreed in the 12th century that the Waldensians or Vaudois were heretics and therefore (as a religious splinter-group) should die, many thousands were annihilated brutally. So it came to pass that the village of Lourmarin was corrected in the 16th century via extinction, and the romantic-seeming ruins here attest to a leveling rage.
但我们没必要将过去想得太过完美；历史上这里有过瘟疫，还发生过一场几乎将整个地区变成空城的大屠杀——或者说，至少一部分居民死于非命。公元12世纪，教皇亚历山大三世(Pope Alexander III)宣布瓦勒度教派(Waldensian)属于异端，必须消灭，随后成千上万的瓦勒度派教徒遭到了血腥的清洗。通过这种群体灭绝的方式，卢玛尔兰村在16世纪重新归顺了正确的教派。今日那些貌似浪漫的废墟，其实都是当年悲愤呐喊的见证。
The spartan elegance of Capelongue stands in stark contrast to the authentically spartan Enclos des Bories a few kilometers away. The Bories are rock enclosures fashioned from field-clearing limestone, and no one is quite certain how long they have been standing here or when they were first built. They were, we know, inhabited until the mid-1800s; they date back at least to the excommunicated Vaudois in the 15th century (and no doubt long before; some claim that these unmortared walls and corbelled huts are Neolithic in their origin). To see the deep-dug cisterns and the threshing floors and stone apiaries and pens where they enclosed domestic animals, hoping to keep wild ones at bay, is to see how rough-hewn was the lifestyle of the early inhabitants of the Vaucluse, and how austere.
卡普龙格庄园酒店那种斯巴达风格的古雅质朴，与几公里外真正斯巴达的博伊围墙(Enclos des Bories)形成了鲜明对比。博伊围墙完全由石片筑成，材料都是当地采掘而来的石灰岩。没有人知道这些顽石在那里站了多久，或者什么时候首次筑成。我们知道，在1800年代中期之前这些石头围墙里就有人居住，至少可以回溯到驱逐瓦勒度人的15世纪（显然比那个时代要早得多；有人甚至主张，这些不用灰泥涂抹、带围墙和枕梁的石头建筑，是人类建筑在新石器时代的雏形）。看着那些深入地下的水池、粗糙的地板、石头营造的蜂房以及试图将野兽驯成家畜用的仓圈，我们就会明白瓦克鲁斯(Vaucluse)早期居民的生活有多么粗粝和清苦。
Eating well remains, of course, the best revenge. One night we dined in the town of Bonnieux, at the Hôtel César, with a panoramic view of the valley of the Luberon and the village of Lacoste — where the once-ruined chateau of the Marquis de Sade has been restored by Pierre Cardin. The last time I saw that castle it was a pile of rubble; now the marquis himself would no doubt approve. Another night we ate in the valley on the way to the high Fort of Buoux at a country restaurant we’d visited more than 20 years before: Auberge de l’Aiguebrun. In both these half-filled dining rooms the reverent attention paid to what was cooked and what was served — whether fish or fowl, amuse-bouche to commence the meal or cheese and a sweet course to complete it — had a kind of formal gravity the French still take for granted and that, for us, is rare.
当然，吃好喝好一直是最佳的报复。博尼约的第一晚，我们在恺撒酒店(Hôtel César)吃晚饭。那里可以看到鲁伯隆山谷和兰卡斯特(Lacoste)村的全景。萨德侯爵(Marquis de Sade)的城堡就坐落在兰卡斯特村，以前破败潦倒，后来皮尔·卡丹(Pierre Cardin)对它进行了大规模修复。我上次看到那座城堡时还是断壁残垣，但它现在的样子想必侯爵本人也会赞不绝口。我们在博尼约第二晚的就餐场所，是山谷里艾格伯伦客栈(Auberge de l’Aiguebrun)内设的餐馆。这家客栈位于通往山顶毕坞堡(Fort of Buoux)的路上，二十多年前我们也去过。两间餐厅里都只有半满，所有人的注意力都在厨房做了什么，端上来的是什么。不管主菜是鱼肉还是禽类，开始都是可口小吃，结束时都有奶酪或甜点为晚餐画上圆满的句点。这些形式主义的东西在法国人看来有种理所当然的隆重，但对美国人来说却极为罕见。
Our next stop was the valley of Les Baux, where the rock is bauxite, not limestone, and the climate even harsher. This landscape — from Aix-en-Provence to Avignon, from to Arles and Nîmes — is full of Roman ruins (Provence derives from the Latin “Provincia”), and the kind of light that enthralled, among others, van Gogh and Cézanne.
接下来我们去了一个叫雷柏(Les Baux)的山谷。那里的石头不是石灰石而是铝土岩，气候也更加恶劣。在那里，从普罗旺斯的埃克斯(Aix-en-Provence)到阿维尼翁(Avignon)，从阿尔勒(Arles)到尼姆(Nîmes)，到处都是罗马帝国的残迹（“普罗旺斯”这个地名就来自拉丁语的“省份”），而梵高(van Gogh)、塞尚(Cézanne)等人物则是此地最迷人的内容。
The written word was equally crucial in France. When I first started reading “Aucassin and Nicolette” or “The Lais of Marie de France” — written in Anglo-Norman in the 12th century — I fell under the spell the tales cast. And for this writer — now more than three times the age I was at first encounter — Provence remains the land of love: fierce yet sonorous. The names of the great troubadours are themselves a song: Bernard de Ventadour, Marcabru, Bertran de Born, Guillaume IX de Poitiers. This last named was first born, in 1071; Giraud Riquier, “the last of the troubadours,” died in 1294.
文学在法国有重要的地位。我第一次读《奥卡森和妮可莱特》(Aucassin and Nicolette)或《法国人玛丽的小诗》(The Lais of Marie de France)等用盎格鲁-诺曼底语言在12世纪写成的作品时，立刻就被迷住了。对我来说——现在我的年龄是初遇这些作品时的三倍还多——普罗旺斯仍是一块爱的土地——来势汹汹，强烈而明亮。那些伟大的吟游歌手，他们的名字本身就是一首歌：旺塔多的伯纳德(Bernard de Ventadour)、马卡布鲁(Marcabru)、伯恩的伯特兰(Bertran de Born)、普瓦捷的威廉四世(Guillaume IX de Poitiers)。普瓦捷的威廉四世是他们中最为年长的，生于1071年。而“最后一位吟游歌手”吉罗·里奎尔(Giraud Riquier)则于1294年辞世。
So the bards took root and flourished in Provence. It’s not, at first sighting, a landscape for men with lutes and plumes and sonnets to their mistresses’ eyebrows; it looks both too bright and severe. Les Baux is a perched village with a vengeance, looming above the valley like a raptor about to swoop down. Its lords were, according to the poet Frédéric Mistral, “warriors all, vassals never.” Dante is said to have used it as the landscape for his hell. The crest of the hill has been left unretouched, but the low streets are a hive of commerce, olive-wood sculptors and jewelers and cafes and boutiques. The grand hotel restaurant L’Oustau de Baumanière lies underneath the village, as does the slightly less magisterial Cabro d’Or, but we chose a country inn, Domaine de Valmouriane, for our trip’s final night.
这些歌手在普罗旺斯生根发芽，开花结果。对那些头插羽毛、手拨琴弦、随时打算向爱人奉上一曲十四行诗的人们来说，此地的风景乍看起来并不出色。这里太灼热，太肃杀。雷柏是个坐落上在山顶的小村，仿佛蹲在枝头、时刻准备冲下山谷厮杀的猛禽。根据诗人弗里德里克·米斯特拉尔(Frédéric Mistral)的说法，这里的居民“全是战士，没有任何臣仆”。据说，但丁游览此地之后，决定将它作为《神曲》中地狱的原型。山顶没有做任何修饰，但山下的街道却一片繁荣，市场上挤满了橄榄木雕塑、珠宝、小餐馆和工艺品商店。带有饭馆的巴曼尼尔乌斯陶酒店(L’Oustau de Baumanière)富丽堂皇，位于村庄地势较低的地方。Cabro d’Or酒店也一样，但装潢比巴曼尼尔乌斯陶酒店略逊一筹。我们最终选择了充满乡村风格的瓦莫利亚内酒庄旅馆(Domaine de Valmouriane)，度过我们旅行的最后一夜。
This is the kind of lodging that retains the feel of a once-private home; there’s a library to read in, a room for billiards, and a swimming pool and tennis court that suggests a family establishment rather more than a four-star hotel. The welcome is gracious, the food first-rate, and one has the sense that, 40 years hence, the vegetable garden will still produce the table’s greens, and herbes de Provence will flavor the night’s meal. May that prove to be the case. May those who marry this year eat and drink and walk and talk and sleep there decades hence. May the breeze be blowing gently through white wooden half-closed shutters, the music be playing softly in the vestibule, and the sommelier approach your table with his suggestions for wine.
“YOU have been in the region before?” asked the proprietor of Le Hameau.
“Yes, often. But not in a long time.”
“I myself am from Torino. You know Torino?”
“That car there, it is mine.” He pointed to a bright red sleekly gleaming Ferrari in the parking lot. “Also the Lamborghini beside it. And the Maserati.”
“Formidable,” I said.
“You must come for a drive.”
“Alas, we have to leave.”
“In which case, the next time.”
Grasse and its environs have a special perfumed air. The lavender had not yet bloomed, but roses were in flower; yellow genet flamed above the low stone hotel walls. The sky had that perfect clarity you see in paintings of Provence; cypress trees framed the far view.
“Next time,” I assured him. “Gladly.”
Then the Italian gentleman, learning that this was our anniversary trip, offered Elena some perfume from Grasse and — for both of us — a bottle of Champagne. We thanked him and promised to come back again and carried the gift bottle unopened until our final night at Valmouriane. In the morning we would drive to Nice and return to the workaday world.
“Let’s sit outside a minute,” said Elena, “and smell the orange trees.”
We did. Beyond, a small rain rained. And, at our balcony table, as darkness gathered and the birds fell silent, we sat and raised our glasses to the shared past, the present, and what is yet to come.
WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE BONNIEUX
Le Hameau, 528 Route de la Colle; (33-4) 93-32-80-24; .le-hameau.com. There are rooms in the central hotel and clustered near the swimming pool, as well as “hamlet-like” above the courtyard; no restaurant but a delightful eating terrace for breakfast (15 euros, about $21, per person). Do not rush.
小村旅馆(Le Hameau)；528 Route de la Colle；（33-4）93-32-80-24；le-hameau.com。客房集中在旅馆的中间位置和游泳池周围，后院也有几间农舍风格的客房。旅馆内没有餐厅，但提供可口的早饭，客人可在阳台上就餐（每人15欧元，约合21美元）。喂，不要挤。
La Colombe d’Or; (33-4) 93-32-80-02; la-colombe-dor.com. There are a few rooms available for rent besides the restaurant; one can study the art at leisure and, after breakfast, wander out the gate and into the streets of the town. Just opposite the entrance, there’s a boule court where old men and young women play regularly; buy a coffee and watch.
金鸽子旅馆(La Colombe d’Or)；（33-4）93-32-80-02; la-colombe-dor.com。餐厅旁边有几间客房可供出租；客人闲时可在这里研究艺术，或在早饭后走出旅馆大门，在小镇的大街小巷散步。大门对面是个球场，常有老者和小女孩在那里打球。买杯咖啡，顺便欣赏大家的球技。
La Terasse, (outside the walls of the village, an “easy” local bistro and pizzeria), 20, Chemin des Trioux, St. Paul de Vence; (33-4) 93-32-85-60. This is one of many restaurants that make St. Paul worth a visit: unpretentious and noisy with — as its name, “the Terrace,” suggests — an outdoor view.
阳台饭店(La Terasse)；（位于小村围墙之外，是一间轻松愉快的本地酒吧兼披萨店）；20, Chemin des Trioux, St. Paul de Vence；（33-4） 93-32-85-60。这是让圣保罗值得一去的众多餐厅之一：气质谦和，氛围热闹，店名中特意强调的“阳台”则保证了不错的视野。
Le Domaine de Capelongue, Les Claparèdes; (33-4) 90-75-98-52; capelongue.com. A beautiful setting, yet the rooms were rather too “high concept” for our taste. One can make do with a square toilet seat behind a slatted creaking door and sink in the bedroom behind the grand bed. But towel hooks would have been welcome, and a bar of soap, and electrical outlets to use; the bedside tables with their outsize if low-wattage globes made it difficult to read.
卡普龙格庄园酒店(Le Domaine de Capelongue)， Les Claparèdes; (33-4) 90-75-98-52; capelongue.com。环境优美，但客房对我们来说似乎过于“另类”。卫生间由木条拼成、吱吱作响的房门里，住客需要适应正方形的马桶座圈。卧室一进门就是大床，其他空间则陷在大床后面的神秘世界。但毛巾挂钩洋溢着热情，还有免费香皂和多个电源插座可供使用。床头柜上摆着巨型台灯，但亮度偏低，睡前阅读不太方便。
Hôtel César, Place de la Liberté; (33 -4) 90-75-96-35; hotel-cesar.com. It’s difficult to park in Bonnieux, and best to do so in one of the designated areas just outside town. The walk through steep and cobbled streets will whet your appetite, however. The view from the hotel dining room is both far and wide.
恺撒酒店(Hôtel César)，Place de la Liberté；（33 -4）90-75-96-35；hotel-cesar.com。博尼约村停车非常困难，最好在进村之前将汽车泊在小镇外面的指定区域。但从停车场到山村的卵石小路崎岖陡峭，略有难度的徒步可以激发你下一餐的胃口。从酒店餐厅向外看，风光辽阔悠远。
Auberge de L’Aiguebrun, Domaine de la Tour (33-4) 90-04-47-00; aubergedelaiguebrun.fr. Tucked away in a valley and under the road, this old-fashioned auberge — the closest translation is “country inn” — provides a traditional welcome, and the food is first-rate.
艾格伯伦客栈(Auberge de L’Aiguebrun)，Domaine de la Tour；（33-4） 90-04-47-00；aubergedelaiguebrun.fr。藏在公路下方的一个偏远小村里，这个老式的客栈堪称“乡村旅馆”的最佳解释。氛围热情古雅，食物一流。
NEAR LES BAUX DE PROVENCE
Oustau de Baumaniere, Mas de Carita, Route d’Arles; (33-4) 90 -54-33-07; oustaudebaumaniere.com. This is a grand and courtly place to eat, both for lunch and dinner; it is expensive but worth it; reservations required. As with La Colombe d’Or, it’s possible also to rent rooms — tucked under the cliffs of Les Baux, which you may well desire to do after a meal-ending Cognac or final glass of Champagne.
巴曼尼尔乌斯陶酒店(Oustau de Baumaniere)，Mas de Carita, Route d’Arles；（33-4）90 -54-33-07；oustaudebaumaniere.com。 一个适合就餐的华丽优雅之地，午餐和晚餐都有，价格昂贵但绝对值得。需要预定。与金鸽子旅馆一样，你可以将某间客房长期包下来。鉴于酒店藏在雷柏村的悬崖之下，饭后你估计很需要一杯干邑帮助消化，或用一杯香槟结束一顿大餐。
Bistrot Découverte, 19, boulevard Victor Hugo, St. Rémy de Provence; (33-4) 90-92-34 -49. One of many local restaurants in the town that Van Gogh frequented.
发现餐馆(Bistrot Découverte)，19, boulevard Victor Hugo, St. Rémy de Provence；（33-4）90-92-34 -49。梵高常去的几家当地餐馆之一。
Domaine de Valmouriane, Ancienne Route des Baux, St. Rémy de Provence; (33-4) 90-92-44-62; valmouriane.com.
瓦莫利亚内酒庄旅馆(Domaine de Valmouriane)，Ancienne Route des Baux, St. Rémy de Provence；（33-4）90-92-44-62； valmouriane.com。