Day 42 - June 19th: A Simple Life
Peyrolles-de-Provence to Salon-de-Provence: 26.3 miles / 1,120 total
It’s amazing how setting the bar higher—like that 35-mile day—makes everything else feel manageable. Yesterday’s marathon felt easy by comparison, and heading into another similar distance today, I felt mentally relieved that it was “only” a marathon.
With an early finish, Christina, Jax, and I made use of the afternoon: shopping run, hotel recovery, ice, blog, then dinner. We found a great Italian spot, Il Paglia, in Pertuis. Google said it opened at 7:00 p.m., but when we showed up, they told us 7:30. So we killed time with a cold draft beer in the square with locals. True to southern French rhythm, we were the only ones in the restaurant until just before 9 p.m., when it finally started getting busy.
Today was my last solo day before three with friends and family—which I’m really looking forward to. Laura and Peter will park at our Airbnb in Arles and Christina will shuttle them out to meet me on the Via Aurelia trail for a 4-hour walk into town. Then she’ll head to Marseille to pick up Monica, and we all meet back at the house. Then the party starts!
Out of Peyrolles-de-Provence, the heat had already kicked in early. No clouds, full sun, and the forecast only promises more of the same for days. The early kilometers on the D15 were flat, wide open, and exposed—not a tree in sight, but at least there was a shoulder. I joked to myself that Napoleon better have dragged troops through this part of Provence just to justify a few shaded poplar groves.
Keeping Napolean’s trees looking good!
I refilled water bottles and grabbed a Coke in Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, a town originally founded by the Romans and later known for a 10th-century Benedictine priory. Then I began a long, graded ascent out of the valley, climbing past vineyard terraces carved into the hillside. Provence is rosé country—Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre likely growing here.
As I climbed, a peloton came screaming downhill and I called out, “Allez, Allez!”—pretending for a second I was in the Tour de France. At the top, I reached Rognes, a small village known since Roman times for its quarries of beautiful stone. Its pale limestone has been used in buildings throughout the region. I stopped in for a strawberry slurpee and chatted with the shop owner. When I asked him about life here, he gave me the most distilled answer I’ve heard yet: “Life is very simple.”
From there, I passed wheat fields on one side, vineyards on the other. I dipped down into Aiguebelle, a hamlet, and then climbed again before descending into Lambesc. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Lambesc was known as the seat of the Assembly of the Communities of Provence, essentially making it the capital of Provence for administrative matters. Today, it still carries a stately feel—stone façades, fountains, and a wide plaza. Christina met me in the village for crepes and to grab a charging cable.
From Lambesc to Salon-de-Provence was pure survival. It felt like a furnace—no clouds, dry wind, and unrelenting sun. A hot crosswind blew into my face, and I kept my eyes down to stop my hat from flying off in the gusts. The road was hard, and the miles felt long. While the towns—especially Rognes and Lambesc—were picturesque, the route itself was punishing.
Better days ahead starting tomorrow where I’ll make it to Arles via the Via Aurelia - all with company.
Thanks for the support.
Cheers,
David
