For their wedding celebration in Provence, the groom wore a suit, the bride a puzzled look.
By Kathy Legg
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, July 8, 2001
Marriage was a concept that had always escaped me. It seemed to involve complicated dresses and unrealistic promises, community property, white shoes and obscene amounts of money.
Yet, I had been with Joe for nine years. I adored him, though my mother wondered why, and it was clear we'd stay together. We'd talk of marriage. I'd quit breathing. He wanted something intimate and romantic. I suggested Las Vegas. Then he quit breathing. The idea of anything traditional – vows, veils, guests, rice – was so, well, traditional.
My friend Marcia had the answer. She lives in France, in a small medieval village in Provence, one of those impossibly beautiful "perched" villages that seem to grow out of the hilltops and be part of the very stone upon which they are built. "Why not do it here?" she asked.
Get married in France? In a country where we didn't speak the language? Surrounded by people we didn't know?
Brilliant!
But a real French wedding, we discovered, requires a 40-day residency period and serious paperwork. Plus, weddings in France are sacred affairs that usually take place in a church. We wanted a ceremony free of religion but filled with spirit and fun, one that reflected good times and laughter. So it was decided: We would be wed officially in a judge's chambers in Washington, then leave immediately for France and an "unofficial" wedding that Marcia would plan.
Marcia, a woman who loves weddings and has had three of her own, is the owner of a small bed-and-breakfast in a 14th-century building in the village of Saignon, about 30 miles east of Avignon. She and her partner, Andrew the artist, offer rustically luxe accommodations and personalized itineraries that cover regional cuisine, wine, art, antiquities and outdoor excursions. When the subject of marriage came up, Marcia quickly realized this was a service she could add to her repertoire. She took charge, and quicker than you can say "Pierre Deux," our French wedding began taking shape. All we had to do was sit back and worry about marriage tax penalties.
I went shopping for a dress. Marcia did everything else. Which is how Joe and I came to be "married" on a perfect May evening on the crumbling remains of a centuries-old castle in a Provencal village by a French mayor and a Dominican priest-turned-psychologist while being serenaded by a Gypsy accordion player as a baron, a baroness, a few American friends, several French strangers and Mina the French kitty looked on.
Forget everything you've heard about the snooty French and their disdain for Americans. When Marcia began planning in January, her fellow villagers took an immediate and proprietary interest in the event. They seemed not only intrigued by this peculiar American couple with their untraditional notions of marriage, she reported, but also genuinely eager to participate.
It was, after all, a village that for centuries had attracted the unorthodox and the adventurous. Saignon, I was told by those who live there, has always embraced individuals who have a mind to just do what they want to do. Everyone, it seemed, felt comfortable offering their views and input on the ceremony and the party afterward. Joe and I became willing props and basked in brief celebrity when we arrived a couple of days before the ceremony.
A cool spring had turned warm and sunny the day we arrived. We took the bags from the car, stepped over a sleeping dog and were handed a glass of pastis by Jean-Claude, Marcia's co-proprietor and keeper of the Petit Comptoir Provencal, one of the few shops in the village.
Mina the kitty was there to meet us, too. Mina, whom I'd met on a previous trip, speaks perfect French. "I see you, but I do not care that you are there. You may pet me now."
I like the French. The French like dogs. And cats. And like French children, French pets seem so much more poised than their American counterparts. The cats and dogs of Saignon amble with Gallic insouciance through the narrow streets. "Ah, yes, life is good. Do you have a cigarette?"
On the evening of the wedding, as we gathered on the small terrace of Marcia's building to begin the festivities, Mina appeared as if by invitation, and took her place among the guests.
This was the plan: An hour before sunset, the 30 or so invited guests would gather for champagne, and we would meet the villagers who had contributed so willingly to this event. We would mingle and sip champagne flavored with lavender syrup. It was easy to spot the French. They were the ones wearing cowboy hats. At Marcia's signal, all would merge into a procession that would wind through the steep streets toward the ruins of the castle Le Rocher, where the ceremony would take place just as the sun was setting. Afterward, everyone was invited back to Marcia's apartment for a seven-course meal.
A few of our American friends were there, but for the most part we were among strangers. A compassionate waiter kept my champagne glass filled. I understand very little French, but tried my gracious best to thank the guests for what I believe were their good wishes.
Mina accompanied us as we made our way through the short narrow streets and up the steep, crumbling stairs to Le Rocher. Everyone should be married on Le Rocher. We are believed to be the first couple to do so. It is the most auspicious site in the village, the spot where the ancient castle La Roche looked out over the valley. As the castle fell to ruin, villagers took the stones to build the houses of Saignon for themselves. A few segments of wall remain, along with steep stone steps that demand a sure foot and steady nerve. I climbed them in Anne Klein heels.
We stood at the top of the promontory with the valley laid out before us, made golden by the setting sun. Swallows soared and dived in a dizzy ballet, and the wind lifted up the scent of lavender like a present from the fields below.
Mina sat washing her paws while the mayor, with dignified solemnity, recited the laws of marriage, and Gary, the priest-turned-psychologist imported by Marcia from Houston to officiate, read an Apache blessing.
Gary's carefully scripted program was tossed almost immediately when his unsteady French drew puzzled but sympathetic reactions from the villagers. The English/French speakers in the crowd offered a chorus of translation that got everyone involved and laughing. The Gypsy accordionist struck up "Hello, Dolly!" and demanded that the wedding couple dance. We tangoed in the twilight, then made our way through rose petals and accordion music back to Marcia's apartment for the wedding dinner.
The dinner came off with near-military precision, thanks in large part to Gale and Peg. They are friends of Gary who live in Seattle and simply thought it would be swell to make their first trip to the South of France to help prepare a meal for two people they had never met.
Brigitte, the shy, seductive wife of Jean-Claude, who is the unofficial historian and raconteur of the village, brought roses from her garden for the tables. More roses came with Michele Moser, the French wife of a German diplomat.
It was Michele who had instructed me earlier in the day that it was important I not prevent my new husband from flirting. This, she counseled, was the French way. The French never divorce, she said. "We have many affairs." This instruction was delivered in her tiny car at heart-stopping speed while she whizzed us up a stroke-steep mountain road pointing out landmarks and telling her husband by cell phone that he must order rabbit for lunch. I want to be this woman.
Also in attendance were the baron and baroness, Monsieur and Madame Journu, he in his eighties, she in her sixties, recently retired from Paris to their house in Saignon. He came to the wedding attired in a forest green Alpine-style jacket. The soft-spoken baroness chatted quietly with Mina.
Mina's people were there: Danielle, an elegant woman who was a dancer and is an artist, and her husband, Claude, who had come to Saignon from Corsica. Danielle designed and painted the rustic banner that led the wedding procession.
Jean-Francois, Joe's tall friend from Paris, had carried the banner, coming close to being electrocuted when suspended wires swayed dangerously near. Had that happened, we would not have been entertained with his Edith Piaf renditions following the lamb course. It is an immutable fact of life: If you play Edith Piaf, the French will sing.
Saignon is believed to be one of the 10 oldest villages in France. Its name derives from signum, the Latin word for signal, and the first recorded mention of Saignon dates it to the year 976. But its history goes back far beyond that, before the Romans, before the Greeks, even long before the troglodytes who lived in caves throughout the region. Saignon is ancient.
It overlooks the market town of Apt and is not far from Avignon, to the west, and Aix en Provence to the south. Marseille is only an hour's drive away. Each of those towns has much to offer, but it is the region's small villages that weave a particular spell. Gordes, one of the most beautiful and visited villages in the country, is nearby. The ocher cliffs of Roussillon are another rich attraction.
In the days after the wedding, we followed Marcia's advice and drove the narrow roads across the Combe of Loumarin, the geological cleft between the Petit and the Grand Luberon, to explore the village of Ansouis and the Fort of Buoux. Both are rarely mentioned in American guidebooks and attract little attention, even among the Europeans. But both are spectacular.
Most every village has its chateau, a great many of them crumbling. But unlike most every village, the chateau at Ansouis is intact and still occupied by descendants of the same family that has owned it for more than eight centuries. Over the centuries, the chateau has been rebuilt so that it now displays a Louis XIV influence. Visitors are guided through a selection of rooms for a look at France's prosperous past.
We passed through the village of Buoux, which has only about 100 We passed through the small village of Buoux en route to the Fort of Buoux. The fort was built high upon the spur of a cliff, and its remains can be viewed for a few francs. By all means, view it. Take a lunch with you. Include a bottle of wine. You can savor both as you take in the 360-degree view from the top of this rugged rock.
It is at times a treacherous climb, and those with height phobias are advised to think twice. In the litigious United States, sights such as this would be made safe with railings and warnings or placed off-limits all together. There would be plastic dioramas depicting a Middle Ages stronghold, but certainly not the real thing. In France, they assume you have the good sense to be careful and recommend only that you not go too near the edge. What you clamber over and touch for balance are the same stones carried and put in place by ancient civilizations. It is a deeply moving connection.
The progress of man is recorded by the settlement of the mountain. At the mountain's base is a wide, deep overhang of rock that provided shelter for prehistoric tribes. Midway up are caves that sheltered troglodytes. As man progressed, so did his inclination to head for higher ground and the strategic advantage offered by the encompassing view at the top. Joe, who whimpered when he came within 10 feet of a drop-off, would surely have ended up in a shallow grave or been sent to clean toilets by the higher-ups.
The Romans built there and left behind a sophisticated series of cisterns and silos for collecting water and storing food. The cisterns are still there, perfectly round and hewn from solid rock with machinelike precision, inches away from the cliff edge.
Across the Durance River, near the town of La Roque D'Antheron, we found testament to a more recent history. At the top of yet another steep and rugged mountain is a monument dedicated to 440 members of the French Resistance who were killed there by the Germans during World War II. The Resistance fighters took shelter in the hills, but were flushed out and killed by German troops. Their bodies were thrown off the cliffs to the rocks below. So much sadness. So much history. So much beauty.
We had been in Saignon for almost two weeks. We'd had memorable food, drunk fabulous wine, laughed every day and gotten married in the company of wonderful strangers. We had connected with Saignon, with its stones and with its spirit. We would take that home with us, to sustain us in Washington and throughout our marriage.
Why was our French wedding so much fun? We believe it is because it embodied all the things the French in Saignon value – romance, flirtation, a spirit of daring. The rhythm of life there is different. There is a time for work, but equally important is the time set aside for enjoyment. As Jean-Claude, Marcia's co-proprietor, put it, "Everything can be accomplished with a smile and a pastis."
My view of marriage has not changed. The traditional concept is one I still cannot grasp. But of one thing I am now completely certain. It is a concept that is open to interpretation. We had the unforgettable good fortune of involving another culture in ours.
And whatever marriage may mean, to us it means the best time we ever had.
Kathy Legg is the art director of the Travel section.
DETAILS: Provence
GETTING THERE: We flew Delta from Reagan National to Nice/Cote D'Azur via New York for about $813 round trip for travel in May (we booked on Expedia in January). British Airways, United and Air France also fly there, with connections in London or Paris, for about the same rate. Saignon is about 2½ hours from Nice by car, on the west face of the Luberon Mountains.WHERE TO STAY: We stayed with our friend, Marcia Mitchell, who runs Maison des Ramparts (Place de L'Horloge), a handful of beautifully rustic studio apartments and rooms in a renovated 14th-century building that was once part of the ramparts of the village. Rates run from $80 to $100 per night, including breakfast. The maison also offers week-long packages May to October (except August), with customized itineraries and guided excursions focusing on art, painting, cuisine, antiquity and outdoor activity; rates from $1,800 double. Info: telephone 011-33-4-90-74-08-55, www.personalprovence.com.
Other lodging options in and around Saignon include:
• La Bastide du Jas (telephone 011-33-4-90-74-67-99) is a gracious chambre d'hotes with nine rooms with baths, lap-size swimming pool, small restaurant and lovely grounds. Rates: $60 to $75 per night, plus about $5 for breakfast. You can also book a room through Seattle-based VillaNet (800-964-1891, www.rentavilla.com).
• La Pyramide (telephone 011-33-4-90-04-70-00; rates from $50) is an intimate chambre d'hotes with five rooms with private bath and breakfast. A small swimming pool is available for guests. La Pyramide also offers one gite (self-catering accommodation) that sleeps four for about $500 a week.
• Auberge du Presbytere (Place de la Fontaine, telephone 011-33-4-90-74-11-50; rates $50-$95) is a venerable village inn that features 10 rooms with private baths and a rustic restaurant and bar. Breakfast costs $7 per person.
• Le Demon du Midi (telephone 011-33-6-84-75-01-46; about $710 a week) rents its charmingly decorated town house, complete with two bedrooms, bath, living room, kitchen and private garden. The property is in La Roque d'Antheron, which hosts a popular international music festival each summer.
WHERE TO EAT: The Auberge du Presbytere, by the fountain in the heart of Saignon, offers savory regional cuisine in a comfortable rustic setting. Four-course meals average $30. Bread, beverages, snacks and wonderfully fresh sandwiches and salads are available at Chez Christine Salon de The, just down the street from the fountain. In Apt, enjoy the chef's mother's recipes at Bistro de France; consistently good entrees run from $13. The beautiful La Bastide de Lilou, just outside of Apt, serves sumptuous six-course meals with wine (about $90) in a mansion with gorgeous interiors and vineyards.
SHOPPING: Le Petit Comptoir Provencal (Place de l'Horloge, Saignon) features high-quality regional Provencal products including wine, oil, vinegar, table linens and pottery. Proprietor Jean-Claude Michel offers beverages and snacks on the tiny terrace. He might also be persuaded to regale you with tales of the town and the history of the area. La Mandragoule (Place de la Fontaine, Saignon) is a good stop for pottery, antiques, books and cards.
INFORMATION: French Government Tourism Office, 410-286-8310, www.francetourism.com
Getting Married Overseas: Where & How
By Andrea SachsWhat are most popular foreign locations to tie the knot? Try anyplace with swaying palms, steel drums and French kisses. Yet before you hop on a plane, with wedding gown carefully folded in the overhead compartment, it's important to familiarize yourself with that country's prenuptial requirements – or you could be left at the altar because someone forgot her photo I.D.
We consulted Modern Bride and Bride's magazines, tourism offices and our own betrothed staffers to come up with a list of five popular places to say "I do" (or "Oui," or "Ja, mon"). Marriage requirements vary according to each country or island. If all the red tape sounds daunting, we've included information on travel/wedding specialists who can make all arrangements for you, ensuring a smooth trip to – and down – the aisle.
• Jamaica. For a quickie wedding with a reggae-band reception, head to Jamaica. Couples who have been on-island for at least 24 hours can pick up a $45 minister's license and $150-to-$200 marriage license signed by the justice of the peace (witness must be present) at the Ministry of National Security and Justice in Kingston. Or, they can obtain a marriage license at a local registrar (fees in the same price range) and hire their own minister, who may also throw in witnesses. Nondenominational marriage officers are also for hire and can officiate at their offices, in their homes, even on Negril's white-sand beaches.
Info: Ministry of National Security, 2 Oxford Rd., Kingston, 876-906-4908; applications can also be sent beforehand. Jamaica Tourist Board, 800-233-4JTB, www.jamaicatravel.com.
• Bahamas. The Bahamas are the Las Vegas of the Caribbean: You can be married and win a hundred bucks at the casino before the weekend's over. After 24 hours in the islands, couples can obtain a $40 marriage license, flash a U.S. certified photo I.D. and proof of date of arrival, proclaim "I Do," then return to their seat at the craps table.
Info: Ministry of Tourism's Wedding and Honeymoon Division, 242-302-2034; Bahamas Tourism Center, 212-758-2777, www.bahamas.com.
• Mexico. For those who forget how to conjugate aceptar, no worries: Ceremonies in Mexico are bilingual. Besides the standard entry documents (passport, tourist card, etc.), Mexico requires a blood test within 15 days of the wedding and four witnesses to be present at the civil ceremony. Check with each city beforehand, as some require the blood test to be notarized by a Mexican physician and/or the witnesses to be Mexican. Fees vary per city.
In Mexico, only a civil service is binding, yet many couples follow up with a religious ceremony. All documents must be translated into Spanish, and the Mexican tourism office suggests that couples arrive two to four days beforehand to tend to paperwork.
Info: Mexico Government Tourism Office, 800-44-MEXICO, www.mexico-travel.com.
• St. Lucia. Couples must be on the island two days before they can apply for a marriage license, which then takes another two days to process. Fees include $150 for the notary and marriage license, $40 for the registrar and $3 for the marriage certificate. While waiting for the paperwork to go through, you can cop a golden tan that looks great with white satin or black tails.
Info: St. Lucia Tourist Board, 800-456-3984, www.stlucia.org.
• France. Ever hear of a prenuptial honeymoon? To marry in France, the bride or the groom or both must reside in France for at least 40 days, which allows the mayor time to publish the banns (announcements of impending vows).
After the waiting period, and if no exes dispute the marriage, the couple is free to marry – but only civil ceremonies count. Town officials require a raft of (translated) documents, such as a passport, birth and medical certificates, affidavits of law and marital status (available at the embassy for a charge), certificate of "celibacy" (it's not what you think!) and proof of French domicile. Check with the local marie, or town hall, for details and fees.
Info: French Consulate, 202-944-6204, www.france-consulat.org; French Government Tourist Office, 410-286-8310, www.franceguide.com.
For couples too busy or organizationally impaired to whip up a wedding that's oceans away, wedding consultants, travel agents and even resorts can be indispensable. Among the options:
• Sandals and Beaches resorts (888-SANDALS, www.sandals.com; 888-BEACHES, www.beaches.com) are the kings of the McWedding. With the WeddingMoon deal, couples get a free wedding with a five-night stay at any of their properties in Jamaica, the Bahamas, Turks & Caicos, Antigua or St. Lucia. Packages include everything from the best man to "Just Married" T-shirts. Prices vary according to resort, season, room, etc., but expect to pay a couple thousand.
• For a more tailor-made affair, the Association of Bridal Consultants (860-355-0464, www.bridalassn.com) can refer couples to one of 800 consultants, many of whom specialize in weddings abroad. The cost: 10 to 15 percent of the total price of the wedding.
• Tourism offices in your country of choice – such as the Bahamas', which has its own wedding/honey- moon department, and France's, which can refer couples to a wedding specialist (see above) – can help with the details, including events before (bachelor party) and after the wedding (honeymoon).