Mount St Victoire

6/3

Today was quite possible the most physically and emotionally exhausting day I’ve had since being here. A group of 5 of us decided to take the day to get out of the city and go climb Mount St. Victoire. This is the triangular-faced mountain that was Cezannes favorite subject to paint and it is both vast and beautiful. When the bus dropped us off we were on the dam at the reservoir in the valley juste a côté de la montagne. The water was so clear and blue I almost couldn’t believe it! Coming from the land of Lake Dirty Bird, this place was a dream and far in the distance we could see the cross at the top of the mountain— our destination.
Just before the bus dropped us off I’d gotten a text from Mom saying that Gran was fading quickly so after some quick tears we started up the hill. I was kind of the weakest link out of the group and wanted to linger some more rather than run up the hill, so I utilized my Girl Scout skills and followed up separate from the main pack. The more we climbed the harder it got and the more beautiful the view was so I had all the reasons in the world to stop and look around every couple of minutes. :) When we finally made it to the top, the winds were whipping around but the sun was shining brightly so we sat for a quick picnic of baguette, oranges, and cliff bar. In one direction I could see all of Aix and farther out the coast and Mediterranean Ocean, in another I could see the Alps topped with snow, and in another there were parachuters landing in an open field between olive groves. Beautiful.

From the top of the mountain my thoughts were for Gran and I could only think that soon she’ll be able to see them too and come with us to those high points in our lives. In her body she wasn’t able travel or see anymore, but now she can be a part of all of those things.

Coming down we decided to go a different way and came down the backside of the mountain and ended up in a petit village called Vauvenargues. When we got to the bus stop we learned that the bus wasn’t due for another couple of hours but as were thinking what we should do until then a soccer ball popped up over the retaining wall. We picked it up and went to return it to its owners down below and discovered a group of local firemen playing a kind of volleyball game where you could only use your feet. Allison, Emma, and Torey all went down and asked to play so we hung out with them talking and playing until the bus came. They offered us cokes and oranginas and told us that the big house we could see not too far away was Picasso’s house and that he was actually buried underneath it! Legit!

I didn’t play because by then my foot was acting up and Mom called me the news of Gran’s passing… So, I sat on a bench next to the house of Pablo Picasso and cried while watching the provençal sun set over the mountains. It kills me to be so far from my family right now, but as they told me Gran was proud of me for being here and she loved to paint and be in the mountains. Today I celebrated her life by climbing one of the most beloved mountain of Cezanne and Picasso and it was the best thing I could have done today.

I send my love to everyone at home and thanks for being the best family ever. I love you all!