Le Mistral

I just got back from a three week stay in the UK and, as so often happens, I left Gatwick under a grey and damp autumn sky and arrived at Marseille airport to blue skies and a hot sun. I had to peel off my socks, my cardigan, scarf and coat and looked for shade whilst waiting for the train to take me to Tarascon.

However the next day I woke up and saw from the way the tree outside my window was being tossed to and fro, that the mistral was blowing.  The mistral, which is practically synonymous with the word Provence, (mistrau in Provençal) is the dry wind that blows from the north east and  comes rushing down the Rhône river at great speed; it can get up to 100 kilometers an hour.

It is a dry wind, which blows mainly in the winter months, but can also blow in the summer when it can cause serious fires.  Large areas of the Alpilles and the Montagnette, mountain ranges nearby, are closed off to the public during the summer months with pompiers, fire trucks standing by at all times.  If a fire starts it can quickly blow across large stretches of land burning up the dry and highly combustible brush, herbs and pine trees with devastating consequences.

In the winter, the mistral blows bitingly cold, bringing the freezing air from the snow covered Alps to the Rhone valley.  As we live right alongside the Rhone, we feel its full impact.  No-one goes out unless they really have to when the wind is blowing and if they do, they hurry home as quickly as they can closing the shutters behind them.  In the shops the topic of every conversation is about the wind and how long it has been blowing.  There is a saying that it will blow for one day, three, six, nine or even as many as twelve days.  It makes everyone bad tempered and exasperated and even has the reputation of sending people mad. It can be used as a mitigating factor for the defence in a murder trial (not sure how accurate this still is today, but I like the notion of it so am not going to try and verify).

It is probably the singly most important factor that shapes the Provençal landscape, (literally, think of the dramatic shapes of the rocks of Les Baux), and the character of its people, (think Jean de Florette by Marcel Pagnol, who incidentally lived and taught in the school in Tarascon).

Imagine standing on the top of Beachy Head during a gale, that is what it feels like when the mistral is blowing, only its all around you and there’s no getting away from it. It flattens the grasses in the field, bends the top of the cypress trees and even in our courtyard, which has walls three stories high, it knocks over flower pots, tears the washing off the line and takes off with whatever isn’t tied down.

Whilst the mistral blows, the skies are usually very blue and the air, free of dust and pollution is very clear, making the countryside appear vivid and bright and you can see for miles around.  It is this special light that has attracted so many artists to the area over the years.

Van Gogh actually found the wind stimulating and headed out into the full force of it to capture the impact it had on the local countryside, the swirling trees, no doubt, mirroring the turmoil that was going through his mind at the time.

The mistral also has its plus points; locally they call it mange fange, (swamp eater) as it blows stagnant waters dry and stops disease from spreading.  It also keeps the Rhône vines free of mildew, which we can all be grateful for and frees the air of pollution and dust.

Once the wind has moved on it will disappear as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind a sense of peace and serenity; the sun feels warm and everyone comes out from their houses as once again the World outside seems a better place to be.