In the middle of nowhere and at the heart of Provence

Metropolitan France is divided into regions, which in turn are sub-divided into 96 departments. Each French departement carries the name of its main characteristic - usually its main geographical feature, such as an important river or mountain. While its useful for tourists to know exactly which attractions they should visit when entering a department, having 96 departments in a little country can get confusing sometimes. Especially when your friends refer to them by number.

"So, where do you come from?"
"Oh, not far. I'm from 04."
"Ahaaam. . ."

And then the clueless gringo takes out his portable French map and looks up the corresponding number. If you happen to take maps with you to parties, of course.

The 96 departments are listed alphabetical order, but are spread out over the territory. Vaucluse is in red.

But other than impressing your friends by knowing French geography, there is really only one thing you should know about the French department numbers, which is: Don't go into Marseille if your license plate ends with the numbers 75. Seriously. Parisiens are not well treated down here.

That said, I didn't have high expectations when entering the department of Vaucluse. As far as I knew, the name "Vaucluse" didn't mean a river, mountain, or anything else potentially exciting for an environmental scientist. I expected to encounter a very boring, middle-of-nowhere land where grass didn't grow very high because goats were constantly eating it.

What I did find was a beautiful blue river, the prettiest red rocks I've ever seen, and a sign saying : IT IS FORBIDDEN TO BOTHER THE VIPERS.

I thought it was a joke, but no. Vipers do exist in France.

Vallis Clausa, the origins of Vaucluse.

The name Vaucluse comes from "Vallis Clausa", which is Provençal for "closed valley". It gets its names from a closed valley (no, really?) but what's remarkable about it is the karstic network. Basically, the rock formation drains rainwater underground and it all springs out of the Earth at one spot : the "Fountain of Vaucluse". It looks like an innocent glassy blue lake. But it drains a watershed of an area of 1000 km², forming the Sorgue river.

"Vaucluse" should really be named "Blue River of Paradise". Really. 

Today it's an important tourist attraction, and the city of "Fontaine de Vaucluse" knows how to handle the attention. You'll find a short scenic path winding up a gentle slopewith craggy mountains following you on each side, bordered by the lovely Sorgue river on the right and provencial boutiques on the right. The ice cream is particularly notorious.

A typical view from the path.

And if you have time to spare in this lovely department, don't miss the Ochres of Provence. They are red/orange colored rocks that rival those of the Grand Canyon, except on a smaller scale. The rocks' odd colors come from millions of years ago, when France was covered by a tropical forest. For centuries, mining companies plowed these lands to extract color pigments from the ochres. Today, most of them are in disuse, as natural color pigments have been gradually substituted for chemical compounds. The sites have left colorful scars across in Provencial Colorado, and today, it is another profitable tourist attraction.

Colorado Provençal

An old mining site at Roussillon

Unless, of course, you study environmental science and your school takes you to these sites for free ;) But that's not to say that it's all fun and games- we study hard. The fountain of Vaucluse, for example, is a classic portrait of what I'm currently researching - karstic networks that drain water from large watersheds. Who's to say that beauty and work can't be together?

As a friend of mine said, "It's a magical place. You ask yourself- where does the water come from? As a scientist, I know, but I still like to believe that it's unreal."

Thanks Seb for his English interview and for my GERIMA class that I'm so proud of, because they make these experiences unforgettable.