Lost and Found in Aix-En-Provence

As you may recall from last time, we had just driven from Nice to Aix-En-Provence. Once in Aix, we went straight to the Centre-Ville area, where our hotel was located. We then proceeded to get hopelessly lost in the tortuous rat’s nest of medieval alleyways and backstreets of Centre-Ville.

Our hotel was on the main street in Centre-Ville – Cours Mirabeau. There was absolutely no way we could drive in, out, and around Centre-Ville without running into Cours Mirabeau and our hotel. But I guess there was a way, because that’s what we had managed to do. Several times, in fact.

So now what? There was no point in making another pass through the maze, only to pop out onto the 3-lane race track for the umpteenth time. We decided to park the car and start walking. We’d find the hotel on foot.

That was a good idea. Just getting out of the car had a positive effect on our dispositions. We scrutinized the map. Where the heck were we? Let’s see… we’re here… the hotel should be there… so if we head in this general direction…

The Magic Mouse Hole

We started walking in “this general direction.” After a few minutes, the street we were on dead-ended into a long, solid block of buildings. There was no space between them, so there was nothing to do but turn around and go back the way we came.

But then we noticed what appeared to be an opening in the wall. It looked like a mouse hole. We watched, and people seemed to be going in and not coming out. Other people came out that we hadn’t seen go in. Was it some sort of passageway through the buildings? Did it go all the way through? Only one way to find out.

We headed toward the mouse hole. As we approached we could see that it was indeed a tunnel. We went in. It was dark inside, but we could see light at the other end. It cut through the old building, opening on the next block over. This would be a spooky place to be at night, that’s for sure.

When we emerged on the other side, we found ourselves standing on a large, tree-lined street. It was the long-lost Cours Mirabeau! And just a few doors down from where we were standing was our hotel. We’d made it. Finally. But now what about the car?

Made it!

At the hotel, we were greeted by a friendly, but very professional fellow who served as the receptionist. He found our names in his large reservation book. He had been expecting us. (Always somewhat of a surprise when I’ve booked on-line).

We checked in and asked for directions for where to park the car. I didn’t volunteer an explanation for why we came by car, but didn’t have one with us at the time.

Moi — “Comment est-ce-qu’on arrive ici in auto?”
(“How the heck does one get here if they’re in a car?”)

Receptioniste — “C’est simple. On va…”
(“It’s easy. You just…”)

Moi — “Uh, pardon, mais pouvez-vous nous dessiner une carte, s’il vous plait?”
(“Uh, excuse me, but would you mind drawing us a map?”)

Receptioniste — “Oui, bien sur, mais je vous assure que ce n’est pas difficile.”
(“Yes, certainly, but I assure you — it’s not at all difficult.”)

Moi — “Ey — Vous n’avez pas passé un demi-jour conduisant en cherchant pour ce lieu!
(“Hey, pal — You didn’t just spend half a day driving around in circles looking for this place!”)

OK. I didn’t say that last part. We needed this guy. I wanted to, though.

The receptionist drew us a little map. It did look pretty simple. The trick was a secret entrance to Cours Mirabeau, hidden behind a huge fountain. Well, it was secret to us, anyway.

At Last – Cours Mirabeau

It turned out that Cours Mirabeau was under construction and temporarily sealed off at one end. Only one way in and one way out. Hadn’t planned on that.

The receptionist told us to get on Cours Mirabeau, stop in front of the hotel, then wait for him. Kind of strange instructions, but until we actually reached the hotel in the car, I wasn’t going to worry about it.

We found Cours Mirabeau. It’s a beautiful street lined with huge trees. Iron posts line the road so cars aren’t able to get onto the extra-wide sidewalks. We stopped in front of the hotel and waited to see what would happen next.

The receptionist came out and motioned for us to turn in towards the hotel. But there was no place to turn. The iron posts blocked the way. I was about to object when two of the posts started sinking magically into the ground, making an opening right where we needed one.

Then a big gate next to the hotel swung open to reveal an alleyway leading to a parking lot behind the hotel. The receptionist directed us to drive in and park behind the hotel. What an operation!

It had turned into a long day, but we had reached our destination. What time was it? I checked my watch. Just as I thought – it was happy hour! (For us, anyway).

To be continued…

Photo of Cours Mirabeau at the top of this post: Ladislaus Hoffner/Wikimedia Commons