Stamp of Approval for our Provençal Dream

From atop the Alpilles, a view over Saint-Rémy, the patch of Provence that stole our hearts so many years ago…and, happily, has kept safe since.

Hip, hip, hooray! The French government made our day!

Late one morning earlier this month, my mobile phone buzzed but showed no number or name. I figured it was probably a cold caller wanting to sell me something. Baffled, yet curious because it was so unusual not to see some sort of ID, I answered and waited. A stern female voice asked for confirmation that I was Mme Padgett and then proceeded to list the items I should bring to the Sous-Prefecture in Arles at 8:45 AM, on Thursday—two days later. Of course, I assured her, both my husband and I would be delighted to appear at the local branch office of the regional government. As much as I wanted to add, “with bells on toes,” instead, I offered a polite bonne journée.

The impressive Hôtel de Ville, City Hall, in Arles.

With celebratory hoots and hollers ringing in my head, I scurried to find Ralph to relay the positive news—our application for the extension of our second ten-year residency cards was progressing. We’d submitted our packet at the beginning of January, four months before our current cards expired. (This was the earliest we were allowed to begin the renewal process.) A week later, we’d been informed that some financial records were required, so we’d sent them in. Now, I just hoped the exacting French bureaucrats were asking to see us for all the right reasons and not to send us packing.

Arriving at the Sous-Prefecture before the designated hour, we found a line by the main door and two officials outside overseeing the entry process. Our names were on a list, so we were ushered directly inside and each given a number. One by one, the handful of people already seated in the waiting room hopped up in response to their number flashing on the digital screen bolted to the wall, and disappeared through a door.

Remarkably, all them returned in just a few minutes and headed for the exit. We hadn’t been to this government office in a decade, and back then, we’d waited hours to see an official, and the interaction usually took some time. So we wondered if these people had very simple issues, so had been processed quickly, or had they been promptly rejected? We would find out the answer to our case sooner than expected.

Before the time of our appointment, our number pinged, and into the back office we went. A  young woman greeted us matter-of-factly and asked for the documents we’d been told to bring. With minimal small talk, we followed instructions for making digital fingerprints and signed some documents. She explained that we would receive an email about our status soon, and when the permanent plastic cards were ready, we’d receive a text to pick them up. This all seemed very positive, so we thanked the official enthusiastically and gathered our things. Before leaving, I paused and said that though it was already February, I wanted to wish her Bonne Année. Happily, my Happy New Year comment elicited a smile. We were standing outside the building at 8:56, a mere eleven minutes after our appointed rendezvous. We took nothing for granted, but it appeared that we were on a fast track for acceptance.

On the way to a café to sip a coffee and let the positive turn of events sink in, we passed the Fragonard Musée de la Mode et du Costume, a new museum dedicated to fashion and costumes. Opened in the summer of 2025 by the venerable family-run Fragonard perfume empire (founded in 1926 in Grasse), the first expo showcasing the elegant attire of the Arlésiennes—which influenced Paris fashion in the late 19th century—was on my want-to-do list. However, I’d done no planning, and now the show had closed. And so were the impressive carved wood doors of the restored mansion cum museum. They would reopen in March for the next exhibition, which undoubtedly would be terrific too. I made a mental note not to miss this one.

We didn’t need to push through any doors to appreciate some other wonders in Arles. Just opposite the Sous-Prefecture stands the Théatre Antique d’Arles, the stadium seating and columns partially visible from the street. The semi-circular theater erected 12-15 BC could accommodate 10,000. Used primarily for dramatic or cultural events, the original stage spanned fifty meters. Even now, its remains are impressive.

The stunning Roman amphitheater in the center of Arles

But the whopper attraction in Arles is the magnificently preserved, two-tiered amphitheater (90 AD) with seating for 20,000 spectators, who came to watch events more on the combative side of entertainment. Think gladiators and such. Though bullfights still take place here during the Feria d’Arles, the site is used primarily for concerts and other extravaganzas. Even though I’ve walked by this magnificent monument countless times, on this ordinary winter day—perhaps because we’d emerged victorious after what had seemed like a battle of sorts—I couldn’t help but stop and wonder at its sheer extraordinariness.  (That last word actually is one, right up there with remarkableness, according to Merriam-Webster. Who knew?)

After a quiet coffee on the Place du Forum, where Van Gogh painted Terrace of a Café at Night (1888), I popped into the newly renovated Grand Hôtel Nord-Pinus for a quick look-see. For 150 years, the legendary lodging has been attracting luminaries such as Picasso, Jack Kerouac, Jean-Paul Sartre, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Maria Callas, and Simone Signoret, to name a few.  Today, there was no flurry of activity with paparazzi engaging red-carpet personalities, but I had no doubts the hotel’s understated glamour would continue the tradition of attracting those wishing to see and be seen.

In fact, on this chilly morning in the south of France, Ralph and I had visited this UNESCO World Heritage Site city precisely to see and be seen—by bureaucrats. Both missions accomplished, we’d left the ancient Roman town that boasted an incredibly rich heritage with the promise of a ten-year extension of what amounted to the right to continue making our own history, right here in our little patch of Provence…where, as surprising as it may be…that very afternoon, we received the precious attestation, or confirmation—France was extending our residence cards until 2036!

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Wherever you are, dear readers, all the best for happiness, health, and hope.

Bises, Gayle

A Greater Flamingo recently greeted me with open “arms” at the Pont de Gau Nature Park.

PS

Not far from Arles, you’ll find the terrific nature park, Pont de Gau, where flamingos flock. On the day we visited, I caught my favorite bird with wings wide, as if offering me a giant hug.

PPS

Pleasures of Provence: A Quest for the Secret to Joie de Vivre in La Belle France isn’t exactly gaining speed as it nears the finish line. The production team is managing the last tweaks to the cover and interior design, but the changes are taking more time than expected. It’s hard to be hopeful that this bundle will be delivered by the end of March, but we shall see. I feel like one of my friends who laughs about how much she wants patience and wants it right now😊  Watch this space!

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