Whats with these Canadian drivers???

Ok. I've been driving for at least, well, a few years...Aaron just a couple less (sometimes though, inexplicably if feels the other way around??).  I know it was bad luck to get our window smashed in Sarlat and that it had nothing to do with us, but a flat tire now too?  This was made all the worse by the fact that it happened at about 6 pm on the second night in a row spent out looking for firewood (at my insistence...oops). 
Lets begin at the beginning. On Sunday, we went to Isle Sur La Sorgue, land of antiques.  It was really bad weather (cold and rainy) so I think the market is not what it usually is, so we'll check it out again this week.  Anyway, we leave here after lunch and head to Carpentras, which is the nearest bigger town to us.  In Carpentras is an indoor playground (aptly called "Les Diablotins") so we figure that we'll spend a bad day letting the kids run off some steam.  They had an awesome time and we were struck by how kids language has no barriers.  They both made friends and played happily for two hours.  During this time, a snowstorm started.  Yes, you heard me and you can all gloat.(Although its gone already).  A serious amount (ok. a foot, but thats serious for Provence) came down.  This made us (by us I mean Aaron) nervous driving around inexperienced French drivers-although we saw no evidence of problems.  I suggested we stop at a gas station to look for firewood to make a cozy fire at home.  Well.....a few gas stations later and no firewood.  A silent drive home.
Monday we awake to our garden covered in snow.  Look at earlier blogs to see the garden with no snow.  We were literally wondering what was up.  Not to be outdone by a bunch of French people caught unawares, the intrepid Canadians bundled up ( it was only 0) and headed to Avignon.  We toured the Palais du Popes there-an immense castle in the centre of town where 13 popes lived before going back to the Vatican.  Has anyone ever seen pictures of these guys?? They all look like crusty, sour old men.  Well, after an hour in the Palace, I can see why.  Lovely as it was, it was FREEZING.  It was so much colder than outside and the cold stone floors seemed to shoot a frozen arrow upwards through the body.  We were the only people touring some of the rooms.  Actually, this is a big plus of visiting France at this time of the year.  Everybody tells us how packed it is in the summer.  Parking/driving/lining up/not finding a restaurant would make the whole thing much less enjoyable.  Just when we thought we couldn't get warm again, the tour came to an end in what do you thing?? A wine tasting!!! Can you believe our luck?  It turned out to be one of the best wine tastings we've ever done.  In a beautiful stone room  representing all the best vineyards in Cotes du Rhone.  A Great sommelier led us through it and we came out warm, satisfied and happy.  Nothing like wine to make you warm inside.  One great experience led to another and we went to a little tucked away wine bar  for lunch down a laneway (sound familiar?)  that had been suggested by a fellow Chefs School grad.  We just ordered some C.D.R. from the area to drink and ordered plates to share: A charcuterie plate, warm bone marrow to spread on toasts (amazing) with salad, Gratin of brandade-served warm which we told the kids was a "mashed potato cake", and finally cooked ham a cheese "sandwich".  All those who work/have worked in restaurants, picture this: we showed up 15 minutes before closing and were the only table.  Imagine how nice the service was.  We ignored it, ordered a second glass of wine and enjoyed every moment.  What a great day.  How about topping it off by looking for firewood?  At this point, its about 5 pm and most of the snow has melted leaving puddles everywhere.
I was driving towards a gas station and going under speed limit, go over a pot hole filled with water which punctures the tire.  OMG, WHAT THE HELL??? I can only credit past experiences in our almost 12 years of marriage, but we kept our cool and drove (very slowly) the 2 km back to our town and stopped on the edge of the village.  We called the rental company (again) and they had a towtruck to us in 25 minutes.  No charge.  Towtruck driver is so nice.  Its dark at this point, so I walk the kids home and then go back to wait with Aaron.  We get our spare tire on and make it home, stopping at the local pizza place to bring home dinner.
The next day we need to go to any Renault dealer for a permanent tire, so we go to the little one right near us.  No English.  I told them the pneu (tire) had gone......kaput??? This seemed to do the trick and we waited while they dealt with our rental company/insurance.  While we waited, they got out books/ crayons etc. for the kids (soo nice) and then told us to go eat lunch and come back.  We drove up to Gordes again, because its so stunning, and had a simple lunch.  On our way back to garage, the rental company calls and tells us the garage won't have a new tire and rim until the next day so they've arranged an alternate car for us.  When we arrive at the garage, there is a taxi waiting for us (all paid for) and they take us to our 1 day rental.  Amazing service just seems inadequate.  We now have our car back (which we call Paul, because that's what we've set our GPS to.  He has a New Zealand accent, which provides many opportunities for amusement.  Hazel has it down).  Anyway, what could have been a bad situation was handled expertly and we were on our way.  Whoever said French people were jerks never met the people we did I guess.  Or else we look really pathetic and they just feel sorry for us......
Today was another great day.  We went to Les Beaux de Provence and St. Remy de Provence.  These are towns that have attracted many a famous face.  Philosophers, writers, artists... you name it.  And now the Linleys.
Just outside St. Remy is Glanum, a Greek-Roman village where the ruins remain.  There is an archway that linked Italy to Spain and is in remarkable shape.  This was of great interest to the kids and was quite amazing to see.  The roads are lined with vines on one side and olive trees on the other.  We stopped for some olive oil on the way home.  Pretty cool.
Another famous resident of this area (at least in his most mad years spent at the asylum) was Vincent Van Gogh.  He painted many pictures of this area and you can see it in the rocks and landscape.  His painting "Nightime in St. Remy" echoes the area perfectly.  This kind of fascinated the kids (especially Liam) and he read anything he could about him.  What 10 year old boy wouldn't like the story of a genius artist who cut off his ear, lived in an insane asylum then killed himself in the end.  Some kind of hero.

One good thing came out of it though.  We've told the kids they are to be called "Van" and "Gogh" since their ears are painted on half the time anyway.  One point for parents everywhere.