The Place aux Herbes in
, is a shady oasis, a ring of restaurants, a lively gathering place, and a gracious town center. Every time I look at the photo of its fountain, my blood pressure drops. Uzes, France
I'd like to tell you more about my family's trip to Uzes, but my daughters have asked that I not blog about the city. Why? They want it to remain our little secret and are afraid it will be overrun with tourists. (Yes, they know they qualified as tourists there.)
Because my girls asked nicely, I won't write about Uzes. The two weeks, Hubs and I spent with our adult daughters in
reminded me of something I used to know but had forgotten: it's their vacation, too. France
Parents of toddlers through teens chose locales and plan activities that entertain and educate their kids--while tiring them out. But as our children turn into adults and begin to share our interests, it's easy to forget that a few shared interests don't make our offspring clones of us.
Or so the Pont du Gard taught me.
The Pont du Gard is a bridge/aqueduct built by the Romans almost 2,000 years ago. It's part of a thirty-mile aqueduct system that delivered water from Uzes to Nimes for roughly 600 years. Two thousand years ago! (That explanation point tells you all you need to know about my reaction to the Pont du Gard.)
Near the bridge, Hubs and I went one way, and the girls went another after we agreed to meet in two hours.
Hubs and I walked over the Pont du Gard, looked up at it from the river and climbed a small hill to look down at it. Later, in the site's museum, we marveled at displays that showed how the Romans tunneled through hills, quarried and transported local stone and set it into place, using almost no mortar. Pulleys, cranes, and treadmills showed what everyday work at the site would have been like. At the replica of a quarry, a "pick, pick, pick" sound brought the scene to life. Reader, I spent more than an hour in the first century AD.
"This is one of the best museums I've ever seen," said Hubs. Too quickly, it was time to meet the girls, so we dragged ourselves from displays of gurgling water.
Outside, the girls waved. As they approached, one of them held out something wrapped in paper. "This crepe's filled with Nutella.
Did the girls get to the museum? No. They'd checked out the gift shop and had enjoyed every minute of their coffee-and-dessert break.
I started to tell them what a jewel they'd missed but stopped. They're responsible adults with demanding jobs and little down time. Who am I to say they didn't use their hours at the aqueduct well?
As Hubs put it, "Let them eat crepes."