During his brief time in Auvers-sur-Oise, Van Gogh produced a prolific number of artworks, nearly one painting a day, as if each canvas poured straight from his soul. If you want to connect with Van Gogh as an artist and a man chasing peace and beauty in a world that offered him very little, this is the place to begin.

Table Of Contents

1. How to Get to Auvers-sur-Oise from Paris
2. Map of Van Gogh Walking Tour
3. Vincent Van Gogh in Auvers-sur-Oise
4. La Pâtisserie des Gourmands
5. The Church at Auvers
6. Mairie d’Auvers-sur-Oise
7. Musée de Absinthe
8. Château d’Auvers
9. Maison du Docteur Gachet
10. Maison de Van Gogh
11. The Auberge Ravoux
12. Village Street and Steps in Auvers with Two Figures
13. Racines de Van Gogh
14. House-Workshop of Daubigny
15. The Path to the Wheat Field
16. Tomb of Vincent van Gogh
17. La Caverne aux Livres
18. View of Auvers with Church

How to Get to Auvers-sur-Oise from Paris

Although there is a direct train from Paris Gare du Nord to Auvers-sur-Oise, it only runs on weekends between April and October. My preferred route is from Gare Saint-Lazare, with a quick transfer in Pontoise to the Beaumont line, which takes you straight to Auvers. You can pay for this journey with your Navigo card; the fare is just €2.50, the same as a standard trip within Paris.

Even with the brief transfer, the journey is easy and scenic, lasting about 44 minutes. The route winds through soft, rolling hills and sleepy towns that feel as though they’ve been lifted from a 19th-century landscape painting.

Map of Van Gogh Walking Tour

Quick Tips for Visiting Auvers-sur-Oise

• An ideal day trip from Paris. With its deep connection to Van Gogh, compact layout, and rich cultural history, Auvers-sur-Oise makes for an unforgettable and easily manageable escape from the city.
• Best visited in spring through early autumn. April to October offers the most rewarding experience, especially if you want to take advantage of the direct weekend train and see the wheat fields glowing golden, just as Van Gogh did.
• Plan for 4 to 6 hours on foot. This allows plenty of time to explore major landmarks, enjoy a relaxed lunch, and take thoughtful pauses throughout the day to soak in the atmosphere.
• Wear comfortable shoes and come prepared. The route is mostly flat with a few cobblestones and hills. Bring a refillable water bottle, a sunhat in warm weather, and a saved or printed map of the Van Gogh walking route (Can also be picked up at the Tourist Office)
• Perfect for solo travelers and families alike. Auvers is a peaceful and welcoming village, ideal for slow, reflective travel whether you’re walking alone, with a partner, or exploring with kids.
• Many sites are free to visit. Outdoor landmarks like the wheat fields, church, and cemetery are open and accessible. A few indoor sites, including the Auberge Ravoux and Maison du Dr. Gachet, charge modest entry fees and during the busy summer months, may require advance booking.

A Soundtrack for Your Walk

Before you step into the world of Van Gogh, consider setting the tone with a soundtrack as tender and textured as his brushstrokes. While Vincent painted in silence, surrounded only by birdsong, wind in the wheat, and the hum of rural life, you can recreate that atmosphere through music that echoes the emotion and spirit of his work. I personally love this soundtrack, and it evokes the music of the time period, as well as what feels like the emotional tempo of Van Gogh’s world.

Vincent Van Gogh in Auvers-sur-Oise

Vincent Van Gogh was a Dutch painter whose posthumous fame would eventually redefine modern art. He sold only one painting during his life, yet his swirling skies, expressive brushwork, and vibrant colours forever changed how we see the world. His work wasn’t just visual but emotional, psychological, and raw.
In May 1890, following a turbulent stay at a psychiatric hospital in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence and his infamous breakdown in Arles, Van Gogh moved to Auvers-sur-Oise. He came in search of recovery under Dr. Paul Gachet, a physician known for treating artists and an amateur painter. For a short time, the village seemed to offer him peace.

In just 70 days, Van Gogh created more than 70 works, an astonishing creative outpouring. He painted wheat fields under thunderous skies, shadowy churches, winding village streets, and portraits filled with sensitivity and soul. Yet despite this feverish productivity, the sadness that haunted him never fully lifted. It was here, in these fields and streets, that Van Gogh suffered the wound that would end his life. This walking tour will guide you through those final 70 days, exploring the landscapes, buildings, and faces that inspired his last, most poignant masterpieces.

Other Artists in Auvers-sur-Oise

Auvers-sur-Oise wasn’t just a haven for Van Gogh; it had long been a beloved retreat for 19th-century artists drawn to its soft light and rural charm, just a short distance from Paris. Painters such as Charles-François Daubigny, Camille Pissarro, Paul Cézanne, and Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot all found inspiration in this picturesque landscape, laying the groundwork for the artistic energy Van Gogh would later inherit.

Arriving at Auvers-sur-Oise Train Station

Your journey truly begins the moment you step off the train. It’s best to arrive early, around 9:00 AM is ideal. While the village remains relatively quiet, its connection to Van Gogh does attract tour groups, particularly during the warmer months. But if you come on your own, you’ll be free to explore at your own pace, detour whenever something catches your eye, and immerse yourself in the details that speak most to you. That flexibility is part of the magic.

Even before you reach the heart of town, you’ll feel the pulse of creativity. As you pass through the Auvers-sur-Oise train station tunnel, you’ll find it’s far more than just a functional underpass; it’s a vibrant mural that feels like walking into a Van Gogh painting. This modest concrete tunnel links the platforms and has been transformed into a vivid tribute to his legacy. Its once-blank walls are now covered in colourful, expressive murals: swirling skies, golden wheat fields, bold self-portraits, and those unmistakable sunflowers. The art spills across every surface, wrapping you in an immersive, joyful celebration of Van Gogh’s vision. It may not be a gallery, but it’s even more powerful, a public space elevated through creativity. Whether you’re arriving or departing, the tunnel acts as a fitting emotional gateway into Van Gogh’s world.

La Pâtisserie des Gourmands

A minute from the station, you’ll come across a local gem, La Pâtisserie des Gourmands. While Paris may get all the pastry praise, I’ve found that the best sweets are often hiding in little boulangeries like this, tucked away in quiet towns. One bite of their giant macaron filled with fresh cream and raspberries had me planning my return visit before I finished the first. And yes, I did go back for a second one on my way home.

Pick up a few treats and something to drink, then head uphill toward the Our Lady of the Assumption Church, the iconic building immortalized in The Church at Auvers. The grassy area out front makes the perfect picnic spot to enjoy your pastries in true Van Gogh fashion, surrounded by light, art, and quiet beauty.

Passage d’accès église-cimetière

Just a few steps up from La Pâtisserie des Gourmands, tucked between sun-washed stone walls and flowering gardens, you’ll find the Passage d’accès église-cimetière, a narrow, almost hidden lane connecting the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption to the village cemetery. It’s easy to miss, but this quiet path is one of the most picturesque and atmospheric corners of Auvers-sur-Oise. Charming cottages with timeworn shutters and pastel façades line the walkway, echoing the warm, timeless hues of the French countryside.

As the passage opens toward Rue Daubigny, your eye is drawn to a thatched-roof cottage, humble, sloped, and textured with age. It looks like it stepped out of one of Van Gogh’s canvases, and it nearly did. This view is reminiscent of his painting Houses at Auvers (1890), in which traditional thatched homes nestle into the landscape like they’ve always belonged there. The brushwork in that piece is dense and rhythmic, giving the buildings a sense of life, of breath. They aren’t just structures; they’re companions in the countryside.

Houses at Auvers

Van Gogh painted several thatched cottages during his time in Auvers, drawn to their irregular charm and earthy warmth. Unlike the rigid lines of city buildings, these homes seemed to grow from the land, worn by wind and time, shaped by hand and weather. To Van Gogh, they represented continuity, tradition, and the beauty of the ordinary. They were human without needing to show a face.

This moment, where the path unfolds into a view of that cottage, feels like a quiet threshold. From here, you’re just steps away from the church Van Gogh would immortalize, but you’re still in the embrace of the village’s quieter corners. Pause here, where the past lingers not in stone monuments, but in sloping roofs and thick plaster walls. It’s a place of stillness, of simple beauty, the kind Van Gogh never overlooked.

White House at Night

As you emerge from the Passage d’accès église-cimetière, you’ll find yourself on Rue Daubigny, a street lined with houses that seem plucked straight from a Van Gogh painting. And in a way, they are. This road is believed to be the setting for White House at Night, one of Van Gogh’s final works, painted in June 1890. The painting captures a quiet domestic scene at twilight. A stately white house glows softly against a darkening blue sky, its single-lit window glowing gold, like a beacon of life within the hush. Above, a bright star, likely Venus, which would have been visible in the western sky that June, shines like a blessing or a question mark. The composition feels both intimate and vast, earthly and celestial.

In a letter to Theo and Jo, dated around June 17, 1890, Van Gogh described this work with restrained pride: “I have a study of a white house in greenery with a star in the night sky and an orange-lit window, black foliage, and a dark pink note.”

Walking along Rue Daubigny today, you’ll pass houses with those same quiet façades, slate roofs, pale walls, and shutters thrown open to the light. Some look remarkably like the one in the painting, even those that don’t seem to carry its spirit. They reflect the traditional architecture of Auvers-sur-Oise, unpretentious yet deeply evocative, built in harmony with the land and sky.

This brief stretch of road offers a quiet pause between the passage’s cloistered charm and the church’s dramatic silhouette ahead. Here, you can linger in a moment Van Gogh once paused to paint, a vision of village life turned poetic, lit from within by something warm and eternal.

The Church at Auvers

Van Gogh’s The Church at Auvers is one of his most emotionally potent and visually distinctive architectural paintings, completed in June 1890 during his final weeks in the village. The subject is the Église Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption, a 12th-century Romanesque-Gothic church that still stands on a gentle rise overlooking the town. Yet in Van Gogh’s hands, this otherwise modest church becomes something far more expressive, an apparition of form, mood, and movement.

Rather than render it with careful symmetry, Van Gogh bent its lines, tilted its angles, and flooded it with surreal, cobalt blues. The church seems to sway slightly beneath a vibrant sky, caught between physical presence and spiritual tension. A pair of diverging paths fork in the foreground. Will you walk past the church or toward it? The surrounding grass glows with sharp greens and yellows, pulling the scene away from religious stillness and toward something more emotionally charged.

In a letter to his sister Wilhelmina, dated June 5, 1890, Van Gogh described the piece: “With that, I have a larger painting of the village church, an effect in which the building appears purplish against a sky of a deep and simple blue of pure cobalt…”

Unlike traditional portrayals of sacred spaces, this church feels slightly unwelcoming, even otherworldly. Many interpret it as a reflection of Van Gogh’s complex feelings toward religion: distant from institutions, yet spiritually yearning. It’s less a place of worship and more a portrait of inner conflict, solitude, memory, and longing.

A View Worth Pausing For

I lingered here for quite some time, breakfast in hand, simply taking it all in. From this quiet corner of Auvers, the village unfolds like a living landscape painting, rooftops climb the hillsides, church spires rise gently through the trees, and soft morning light glides across the terracotta tiles and winding lanes. It’s not a dramatic view, but it’s deeply stirring. A gentle stillness, a kind of hushed beauty, invites you to stop, breathe, and reflect. In this moment, you can see what Van Gogh saw, not just with your eyes but with your heart.

Tourist Office of Auvers-sur-Oise

From the church, make your way back along Rue Daubigny until you spot a narrow path tucked behind a low stone wall; this leads to the Auvers-sur-Oise Tourist Office, nestled down a shortcut to the lower part of town. It’s worth a quick stop. Inside, you can pick up a free walking map that marks all the locations where Van Gogh’s works are commemorated with plaques. There’s also a free washroom on site, which I always take advantage of before continuing my route!

Mairie d’Auvers-sur-Oise

Heading west along Rue du Général de Gaulle, you’ll pass the Mairie d’Auvers-sur-Oise, the town hall. This elegant stone building was painted by Van Gogh in 1890 and decorated with festive flags and banners to mark Bastille Day. He captured it from just outside the Auberge Ravoux, opposite the square where he lived. After finishing the piece, Vincent gifted it to the innkeeper, Arthur Gustave Ravoux, as a gesture of thanks.

We’ll be returning here for lunch later in the tour, but for now, continue along the road toward the Absinthe Museum.

Musée de Absinthe

Just up the hill, you’ll find one of Auvers-sur-Oise’s more unusual attractions, the Musée de l’Absinthe, a small museum dedicated to the infamous “green fairy.” Absinthe is a potent, emerald-coloured spirit made from botanicals like wormwood, anise, and fennel. Absinthe rose to popularoty in late 19th-century France, especially among artists, writers, and bohemians.

Known for its strength and supposed hallucinogenic properties, absinthe was both romanticized as a muse and feared as a poison. Tales of “absinthism,” a condition blamed for the madness and erratic behaviour, led to its ban in many countries. The museum houses an atmospheric collection of vintage spoons, delicate glasses, antique bottles, and evocative posters, all of which tell the story of how this once-mythic drink seduced and scandalized an entire era.

Van Gogh first discovered absinthe during his time in Paris. He was introduced by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, who frequented the smoky cabarets and cafés where it flowed freely. But Vincent quickly grew disillusioned with the city’s indulgences. In a letter to Theo, he wrote of fellow artist Monticelli:

“I increasingly doubt the veracity of the legend of Monticelli, who consumed enormous quantities of absinthe. Considering his work, it seems impossible that a man enervated by drink could have done this.”

Château d’Auvers

From the museum, continue uphill along Rue Léry to reach the grand Château d’Auvers. Perched above the rooftops of the village, this 17th-century estate was originally built in 1635 for Zanobi Lioni, an Italian financier at the court of Marie de Médicis. With its symmetrical façade and terraced gardens, the château is a graceful example of an Italian Renaissance villa transplanted to the French countryside.

Today, the château houses immersive exhibitions of Impressionist art. But fair warning, the Van Gogh works displayed here are reproductions, not originals. The entry fee is also rather high, and while the displays are thoughtful, they don’t quite capture the intensity or intimacy of Van Gogh’s brushwork. For that reason, I suggest skipping the museum and heading straight for the gardens, which are open to the public and free to explore.

In these very gardens, you’ll find a view Van Gogh once painted, though not from the center stage. In his 1890 work Landscape at Twilight, the château appears quietly in the background, its pale form partially swallowed by trees and twilight shadows. The foreground is wild and thick with grass, animated with his signature brushwork as if nature is overtaking the formalities of grandeur.

This compositional choice is telling. For Van Gogh, the château wasn’t the main subject; the land was. The shifting colours of dusk, the sweep of the horizon, the untamed beauty between cultivated spaces. Standing in the gardens today, it’s easy to see the same balance: clipped hedges and floral symmetry giving way to wide, sweeping views of Auvers’ rolling hills, golden fields, and tiled rooftops.

With the breeze in your hair and the scent of roses in the air, it’s not hard to imagine Van Gogh standing here too, sketchbook in hand, choosing to frame the château not as a monument, but as a whisper in the distance, quietly observing the world around it.

Maison du Docteur Gachet

From the château, it’s about an 11-minute walk to the Maison du Docteur Gachet. When Van Gogh arrived in Auvers in May 1890, seeking refuge from the emotional turbulence that had overwhelmed him in the South of France, Dr. Paul Gachet quickly became more than just a physician. He became a confidant, a supporter, and a true admirer of Van Gogh’s genius. Their relationship was complex, part medical, part artistic partnership, and deeply personal.

This quiet walk toward the house, lined with gardens and low stone walls, is one Van Gogh likely made dozens of times. I found it especially contemplative, wondering what might have been going through his mind in those final weeks as hope flickered and his mental state continued to decline.

Garden

The Maison du Docteur Gachet, now a museum, is tucked behind a tall stone wall on a peaceful, tree-shaded lane. Stepping inside, you’re greeted by an enchanting, ivy-draped home built into a rocky slope. Dr. Gachet, both physician and art enthusiast, cultivated these gardens with a wild elegance, planting vibrant beds of herbs, wildflowers, and climbing roses, a space where painters could find colour, calm, and inspiration.

Landscape with a Carriage and a Train

One of the most striking elements of the property is the panoramic view over the Oise Valley. From this elevated perch, the landscape rolls out in gentle waves, patchwork fields, winding lanes, and the shimmering line of the river stretching into the horizon. It’s timeless, almost cinematic, bathed in the same golden light that once captivated Van Gogh.

From this very spot, Van Gogh painted Landscape with a Carriage and a Train in 1890. The canvas captures the contrast between the stillness of the countryside and the hum of change, a steam train cutting through distant hills while a horse-drawn carriage follows a curving country path. It’s a moment suspended between movement and memory, tradition and modernity. Standing here today, it’s easy to imagine Van Gogh at his easel, brush poised, turning the living world before him into one of his charged, rhythmic compositions.

Stepping inside the grounds, you’re greeted by an enchanting, ivy-draped home built into a rocky slope. Dr. Gachet, both physician and art enthusiast, cultivated these gardens with a wild elegance, planting vibrant beds of herbs, wildflowers, and climbing roses, a space where painters could find colour, calm, and inspiration.

It’s this very kind of space that Van Gogh immortalized in his painting Garden in Auvers (Garten in Auvers), a lush, intimate scene thick with vibrant brushwork and saturated in green and blue. The composition hums with energy, almost overgrown with feeling. You can almost smell the garden soil and hear the rustle of plants in the wind. It’s not a manicured space; it’s a living one. The type of garden where emotion takes root and spills over the edges.

One of the most striking elements of the property is the panoramic view over the Oise Valley. From this elevated perch, the landscape rolls out in gentle waves, patchwork fields, winding lanes, and the shimmering line of the river stretching into the horizon. It’s timeless, almost cinematic, bathed in the same golden light that once captivated Van Gogh.

Blossoming Chestnut Branches

Another echo of Van Gogh’s time in Auvers blooms in his painting Blossoming Chestnut Branches, a radiant still life completed in the last weeks of his life. Thick green leaves and tender blossoms burst from the canvas with bold brushstrokes, full of light and movement. The piece reflects his enduring fascination with nature’s fragile beauty and power to soothe.

It’s easy to imagine him gathering the chestnut branches during a walk from Dr. Gachet’s garden or the wooded paths nearby. Even in his final days, Vincent was looking closely at the small things, the curve of a petal, the flicker of spring light, and turning them into something eternal.

Inside the Gachet’s Home

Inside, the house retains much of its original character. The rooms are dressed with period furnishings, including old pharmaceutical jars, pigment bottles, and Dr. Gachet’s manual printmaking press. It’s a small, intimate space that feels more like an artist’s retreat than a doctor’s home.

Upstairs, the second floor features a rotating exhibition of Dr. Gachet’s artwork. A passionate amateur artist, he created numerous engravings and paintings that reflect his friendships with the Impressionists and his own delicate, introspective style.

At one point, Dr. Gachet owned 20 paintings by Van Gogh, most of which were given as gifts by the artist during his stay. After Gachet’s death, the collection passed to his son, who, childless and deeply devoted to preserving the legacy of art, generously donated the works to the French state. Many of those pieces hang in the Musée d’Orsay, the Louvre, and other world-class galleries today. But standing here, in this humble, ivy-clad house, it’s easy to imagine them once hanging in these very rooms, works of raw emotion and staggering beauty, glowing in the morning light.

Portrait of Dr. Gachet

Van Gogh famously described Dr. Gachet in a letter as “sicker than I am,” a reflection of their shared struggles with emotional fragility. And yet, perhaps this very sense of vulnerability allowed them to form such a powerful bond. Van Gogh painted two portraits of the doctor, each filled with intense, swirling strokes and a quiet melancholy. In one letter to Theo, he wrote:

“Mr. Gachet is absolutely fanatical about this portrait and wants me to do one of him if I can, absolutely like that, which I also wish to do.”

The result is one of Van Gogh’s most iconic works, a portrait that radiates sadness, empathy, and human understanding. Dr. Gachet is shown slumped at a red table, his head resting heavily in one hand, eyes turned inward. The vivid blue tones of the background seem to hum with emotion. This isn’t just a doctor; it’s a portrait of a man who, like Van Gogh, carried quiet sorrow in his bones.

Gachet’s Family

Dr. Gachet’s daughter, Marguerite, also became part of Van Gogh’s final chapter. He painted her sitting at the piano in her family’s salon, head slightly turned away, completely absorbed in her music. The scene is one of softness and restraint, a calm oasis within a stormy life. The filtered sunlight, the gentle folds of her dress, and the stillness of her posture offer a quiet, almost dreamlike contrast to Van Gogh’s otherwise intense palette and pace.

Though there’s no evidence of a romantic relationship, Van Gogh seemed quietly drawn to Marguerite. He may have seen the peaceful domesticity he longed for but never found in her, a life of routine, beauty, and calm, free from the turbulence that had long defined his own.

Maison de Van Gogh

Now it’s time for the most poignant stop of the tour, the Maison de Van Gogh, or Auberge Ravoux, located back in the center of town. It was here, in Room No. 5, that Vincent spent the final weeks of his life. You can book a ticket to visit this tiny attic room, left exactly as it was after his death. The walls are bare, the space stark, but the emotional weight is immense. There’s no furniture, no belongings, just silence, and sunlight filtering through the window.

Once you’ve taken it in, consider booking a table downstairs in the inn’s restaurant, where Van Gogh once dined each evening. The rustic dining room has been restored to reflect its 19th-century appearance, offering a simple but powerful experience. To sit where he once sat, to eat in the very room where he ended his days, is to feel if only for a moment, the world as he saw it.

Visiting the Maison de Van Gogh

Visiting the Maison de Van Gogh isn’t like stepping into a traditional museum; it’s more like entering a quiet moment frozen in time. This place holds something far deeper for art lovers and pilgrims of Van Gogh’s legacy: it was the artist’s final refuge. A narrow staircase leads you to Room No. 5, the attic space Van Gogh rented for just a few francs a night. The light is low, and the wooden floorboards creak softly, whispering with memory.

Nothing is inside the room except a solitary chair in the center, like a silent gravestone. Its emptiness speaks louder than any exhibit ever could. This was where Van Gogh returned each night after painting the wheat fields and crooked streets of Auvers.

When he arrived in May 1890, he settled into this modest room at the Auberge Ravoux. In a letter to Theo and Jo around May 21, he shared his new surroundings with a painter’s excitement:

“Now I have a study of old thatched roofs with a field of peas in flower and some wheat in the foreground…”

The Final Days

This is the place where Van Gogh returned, gravely wounded, on the evening of July 27, 1890, after shooting himself in a wheat field just outside the village. Somehow, he managed to walk back through the fading light, up the stairs to his room, and collapse in silence.

Word quickly reached Theo, who rushed from Paris to Auvers-sur-Oise as soon as he heard. He arrived just in time to be by Vincent’s side, holding vigil through his final, agonizing hours. The two brothers, whose bond had endured years of hardship and distance, shared one last moment in that small, dimly lit space. Ever aware of beauty even in pain, Vincent is said to have spoken calmly. His last words may have been:

“La tristesse durera toujours” ,  “The sadness will last forever.”

Two days later, on July 29, 1890, he died with Theo at his side. The quiet village of Auvers cradled the final chapter of one of history’s most brilliant, tormented artists.

The Funeral

After his death, Van Gogh’s body was laid out in the inn’s ground-floor dining room, the same place where he had eaten simple meals just days earlier. At the time, suicide was considered a mortal sin by the Catholic Church, and those who died by their own hand were often denied burial in consecrated ground. Although Van Gogh had once been deeply religious, he had long distanced himself from organized faith, and a church funeral was not permitted.

Instead, the modest inn became the setting for a deeply personal farewell. Though many myths paint his funeral as a lonely event, in truth it was attended by fellow artists and friends who gathered around his coffin, surrounded by his paintings, propped like mourners themselves. Yellow flowers, sunflowers, marigolds, and dahlias were arranged lovingly, a vivid echo of the palette Vincent cherished most.

The Auberge Ravoux

In Van Gogh’s day, meals at the Auberge Ravoux were simple, seasonal, and rustic. Food was included in the cost of his room, and he likely dined on classic country fare: crusty bread with local cheese, stews made with garden vegetables, roast duck or chicken when available, a glass of red wine, and absinthe lurking quietly at the edge of the table. Meals were shared communally, in a dimly lit room where Van Gogh often sat sketching on scraps of paper, his mind still at work.

He always sat at the same table near the back of the dining room. And if you’re lucky, like I was, you can ask to sit there too, feeling for a moment as if you’re dining with him in spirit.

Today, the Auberge Ravoux has been lovingly restored. Dining here is like stepping back into the late 1800s. The interior remains remarkably faithful to the period: exposed wooden beams, lace-trimmed curtains, mismatched chairs, and white-clothed tables. The menu pays homage to 19th-century French cuisine, offering dishes Van Gogh might have known, duck confit, terrines, poached eggs in red wine, and rich, buttery desserts.

But the experience isn’t just about food; it’s about presence. Knowing you’re seated where Van Gogh once ate, within walls that absorbed the final echoes of his life, adds a quiet reverence to every bite. It’s not just a restaurant; it’s a living memory, a space where art, history, and humanity gently gather around the table.

Village Street and Steps in Auvers with Two Figures

After lunch, it’s time to walk off some of that delicious French fare with a slow stroll along Rue de la Sansonne. At the end of the street, you’ll come across a stone staircase that leads to the upper road, a view Van Gogh captured in one of his more contemplative works.

The painting depicts a narrow, sloping street, flanked by stone houses and cottages, their tiled roofs leaning gently into the hillside. A staircase winds upward between them, and two small figures, likely villagers, walk along the path. At first glance, it may seem unremarkable. But look again, and you’ll feel the emotional pulse in the composition: the twisting road, the hurried brushwork, the sense of quiet connection. It’s as if Van Gogh were painting what he saw and what he longed for, movement, companionship, and the hush of rural life. Perhaps a kind of intimacy he rarely found in his own.

The palette is pure Van Gogh: vivid blues, dusty greens, soft yellows, and terracotta reds that vibrate with life. The buildings, while simple, have a storybook charm, and the figures, though small, anchor the entire scene. They aren’t portraits. Their presence hints of humanity rooted in the village’s rhythm.

What makes this painting especially remarkable is that you can still stand in the exact spot where Van Gogh lived more than a century ago. Rue de la Sansonne and its steps remain remarkably unchanged. Though slightly modernized, the houses retain their original silhouettes and sloping roofs. Standing at the base of the steps, you can see the same view he did, trace the same climb, and feel the same slope beneath your feet. It’s one of the few places where a painting perfectly overlaps reality, where you can physically step into Van Gogh’s frame and walk through a world he turned into art.

Vineyards at Auvers

As you continue along the back roads and farmland surrounding Auvers, you’ll see the echoes of another of Van Gogh’s final works: Vineyards at Auvers. The painting brims with energy; furrowed rows of grapevines twist under a pale sky, alive with green and ochre. It captures the countryside’s working rhythm and agriculture’s grounded beauty.

Vincent had long admired farmers, often calling them “figures in harmony with the earth.” This painting is not romanticized; it’s full of sweat, soil, sun, and survival. Walking these vineyard lanes today, you feel that same vitality underfoot. It’s not the kind of subject museums tend to glorify, but for Van Gogh, it was everything.

Racines de Van Gogh

Climb the steps and continue onto Rue Daubigny, named after the artist whose nearby studio also left its mark on Auvers. But before you go further, look down. Across the road, a line of gnarled tree roots clings to a small embankment, an otherwise ordinary sight, unless you know its history.

This is where Van Gogh painted Racines (Tree Roots), one of his most abstract and enigmatic works. Believed to be his final painting, it was completed just days before his death in July 1890. For more than a century, the location remained a mystery. But during the 2020 lockdown, Van Gogh researcher Wouter van der Veen noticed an old postcard with a photograph of a sloped, root-covered bank that perfectly matched the painting. The site, just steps from the Auberge Ravoux, was confirmed by the Van Gogh Museum soon after.

The painting is a tangled mass of exposed roots, jagged soil, and vivid, swirling strokes of deep blue, green, and ochre. There’s no sky, no horizon, no clear structure, just nature’s chaos. It’s raw and unresolved as if Van Gogh were grappling with the earth, channelling something primal and unspoken. It doesn’t feel like a farewell; it feels like an eruption of energy, an artist still reaching, questioning, even at the end.

Today, standing at this spot is a profound and quietly powerful experience. The roots are still there, clinging to the same sun-dappled hillside, partially veiled in ivy and moss. A discreet plaque now marks the site, but it remains remarkably humble, tucked between houses and hedgerows. To see them in person is to stand in the very place where Van Gogh made his final artistic statement, an unfinished farewell, carved not in words, but in roots, soil, and paint. There’s a stillness here, a reverence, and a startling intimacy with the man who once stood with a brush in hand, translating the tangle of earth into something achingly human.

House-Workshop of Daubigny

Continuing along Rue Daubigny, you’ll pass the Atelier-Daubigny, the actual home and studio of Charles-François Daubigny, a key figure in 19th-century landscape painting and one of the forerunners of Impressionism. Born in 1817, Daubigny was part of the Barbizon School and became known for his naturalistic depictions of rivers, fields, and skies. He was among the first artists to paint en plein air, often from a studio boat he called Le Botin. His fluid brushwork and love for atmospheric light paved the way for artists like Monet, Pissarro, and ultimately, Van Gogh.

Though Daubigny died in 1878, well before Van Gogh arrived in Auvers-sur-Oise, Vincent deeply admired him. He considered Daubigny, a spiritual predecessor who had captured the same quiet rural moods Van Gogh sought to express. He even painted several tributes to Daubigny, including Daubigny’s Garden, which he described as one of his most deliberate and composed works.

In a letter to Theo, he wrote: “Perhaps you’ll look at this sketch of Daubigny’s garden; it’s one of the canvases I’ve planned with the greatest care.”

The painting hums with life, its garden rendered in rich, energetic brushstrokes and luminous colour. It feels more like a memory than a landscape.

Museum Visit

Visiting the Atelier-Daubigny today is like stepping into a preserved pocket of time. Designed by Daubigny himself in the 1860s, the home still holds much of its original charm. The walls are covered with hand-painted murals, created not only by Daubigny but also by his son and close artist friends, including Corot. The studio is modest yet rich with atmosphere; the scent of aged wood and pigment still lingers, and light spills in through old glass panes just as it would have over a century ago.

The experience of visiting Daubigny’s home offers more than insight into one artist’s life. It’s a vision of what Van Gogh’s life could have been. Here was a man who lived surrounded by family, stability, and a creative community, whose art brought him comfort and whose legacy was recognized in his lifetime. For Van Gogh, who sold almost nothing, lived in modest rented rooms, and was often isolated, Daubigny’s home represents a tender what if, a glimpse into a life that might have been, had success and peace come just a little sooner.

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And for Van Gogh admirers, the most stirring part of the visit may be the garden. Natural, slightly overgrown, and lovingly tended, it has retained the quiet beauty Daubigny cherished. It’s easy to picture Van Gogh walking by, pausing to admire it, feeling a kinship with the man who painted the same trees, skies, and light decades before Van Gogh picked up his brush in Auvers.

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The Path to the Wheat Field

Head north from the Atelier-Daubigny, and you’ll soon come across a narrow lane called Sente du Montier. Follow this quiet, tucked-away path as it winds into the hillside. It gradually becomes a dirt trail, leading you deeper into the countryside and directly toward the landscape that inspired Wheatfield with Crows.

The field is still wide, open, and untouched, stretching beneath the same vast sky Van Gogh once painted. In summer, the wheat glows golden, swaying in the breeze like a living echo of his brushstrokes. Even if you visit in another season, the land holds its shape. The gentle curve of the trail, the open expanse, and the hush of the horizon remain unchanged. There’s a timelessness here, a feeling that nothing has changed, yet everything has. It’s easy to see why Van Gogh returned to this exact spot again and again, capturing its quiet intensity in paint and, ultimately, letting it cradle his final steps.

Wheatfield with Crows

Wheatfield with Crows is one of Van Gogh’s most emotionally charged and enduring works, often believed to be his final painting. The canvas is filled with stormy energy: an open field of golden wheat set against a churning, dark blue sky. A dirt path splits the landscape, forked and directionless. Crows lift from the field in scattered flurries, like black brushstrokes tearing across the clouds.

There is no clear vanishing point, no escape, only wind, sky, and solitude. The painting is beautiful and unsettling, a vivid mirror of Van Gogh’s emotional state in his final days. In a letter to Theo and Jo dated around July 10, 1890, he wrote:

“I have painted three more large canvases. They are vast stretches of corn under troubled skies, and I did not have to go out of my way very much in order to try to express sadness and extreme loneliness.”

Standing in this field today, just beyond the edge of Auvers-sur-Oise, is deeply moving. The wheat still ripples, the sky stretches infinitely above, and the dirt path still carves its familiar arc through the land. There are no fences, no crowds, just the quiet of the countryside, waiting. To visit this field is to cross the boundary between canvas and the world. You don’t just see the painting; you feel it. It’s one of the rare places on Earth where you can truly step inside a Van Gogh.

Landscape at Auvers in the Rain

Before you leave the fields, it’s worth pausing to remember one more painting, Landscape at Auvers in the Rain. Created just days before his death, the canvas shows the same golden countryside, but blurred through sheets of rain. Van Gogh used diagonal strokes and dark blue and silver streaks to capture the rhythm of falling water. The sky looms heavy, and the fields ripple beneath it, alive and turbulent.

This painting was inspired by the Japanese prints Van Gogh admired, especially those of Hiroshige, where rain becomes both subject and symbol. Here, it feels like a curtain between the viewer and the world, a veil of emotion, a storm not just in the sky, but within. It is one of the most atmospheric works of his final weeks, soaked in melancholy and motion.

Van Gogh’s Death

Walk through these fields, and you’re not just retracing brushstrokes but stepping into the last landscape Van Gogh ever knew. This is where, on July 27, 1890, he is believed to have walked with a pistol and shot himself in the chest. The trail winds between golden rows, the breeze rustles softly, and the sky presses down in silence.

There is no monument, no plaque, only the land, as in 1890. The hush of the countryside feels reverent, almost sacred. The view stretches endlessly, just as it did when Van Gogh stood here, seeking meaning through every brushstroke. Being in this field is more than a moment of reflection; it is a meeting point between life and death, art and emotion, where the quiet speaks louder than words.

An Alternate Theory

For over a century, Van Gogh’s suicide was accepted without question. But in recent years, an alternate theory has emerged, one that suggests Van Gogh may not have shot himself at all. In 2011, biographers Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith proposed that Van Gogh was accidentally shot by two local teenage boys playing with a faulty pistol. According to this version, Van Gogh may have protected them, choosing not to reveal the truth, perhaps out of compassion or sheer exhaustion.

There is no conclusive evidence, and Van Gogh’s reported last words, “Do not accuse anyone. It is I who wanted to kill myself”, still support the traditional account. But the theory adds a layer of ambiguity, another question in a life so often misunderstood. Whether by his own hand or by a tragic accident, what remains certain is that these fields were his final canvas, one last place where light, sorrow, and art converged.

Tomb of Vincent van Gogh

As you leave the fields behind and follow the quiet path toward the cemetery at the edge of Auvers, it’s impossible not to carry the weight of everything Vincent endured. The open landscape narrows into stone walls and ivy-covered gates, and soon, you arrive at a small, humble resting place where Vincent lies buried.

After Van Gogh’s death in 1890 and Theo’s just six months later, the brothers were buried in different countries, Vincent in Auvers-sur-Oise and Theo in the Netherlands. But it was Jo van Gogh-Bonger, Theo’s devoted wife, recognized the depth of their bond and became the force behind their reunion in death. In 1914, she arranged for Theo’s remains to be exhumed and reburied beside Vincent in the fields they both cherished.

Jo didn’t stop there. She ensured their graves wouldn’t just sit side by side, but appear visibly, symbolically entwined. At her request, ivy from Dr. Gachet’s garden, a place of solace in Vincent’s final days, was transplanted to the cemetery. Carefully planted across the twin graves, the ivy soon crept and spread, forming a soft, green shroud. Today, that same ivy still binds their headstones together, a living emblem of love, loyalty, and the unbreakable connection between the two brothers.

Johanna van Gogh-Bonger

Johanna van Gogh-Bonger was not merely the guardian of Van Gogh’s legacy; she was its creator, protector, and relentless advocate in a world that rarely listened to women. When Vincent and Theo died within months of each other, Jo was just 28 years old, a new mother with no formal training in art. But she had something far more powerful: unwavering conviction. While the world had turned away from Van Gogh in life, Jo saw the brilliance in his canvases and the aching beauty in his letters.

She stepped into a world dominated by male critics and collectors who rarely took her seriously. Still, she pushed forward, organizing exhibitions, lending out paintings, translating Vincent’s letters, and building his legacy piece by piece. She worked while raising a child alone, without institutions backing her, without access to the cultural circles that so often shut women out.

Jo didn’t just preserve Van Gogh’s work; she shaped how the world understands it today. She turned an overlooked, misunderstood painter into a cornerstone of modern art through passion and perseverance. Her story is more than historical; it’s a feminist triumph and a reminder that the most powerful voices in art history are sometimes the ones it tried hardest to silence.

La Caverne aux Livres

On your way back to the station, stop at one of Auvers-sur-Oise’s most delightful surprises, La Caverne aux Livres, a secondhand bookstore tucked inside an old train car parked alongside the tracks. Inside, the shelves are stacked to the ceiling with vintage novels, yellowing magazines, rare art books, and children’s treasures, all jumbled together in the coziest literary chaos.

Though there’s no direct connection to Van Gogh, the symbolism is rich. This old rail line once carried him into the village, into his final chapter. And here, nestled beside those same tracks, is a space filled with stories waiting to be discovered. It feels like a tribute, quiet and personal, to lives lived in creativity and passion.

I sat there for what felt like hours, poring through the hundreds, if not thousands, of old tomes. I found a stack of art history books to take home, their spines faded and pages soft with age. They now sit on my shelf, a tangible memory of that quiet afternoon spent wandering through words in the village Van Gogh called home.

View of Auvers with Church

As you make your way back to the Auvers-sur-Oise train station, pause before stepping onto the platform. Just outside the station, if you look back toward the village, you’ll see a view that might feel startlingly familiar; it’s the same one Van Gogh captured in his painting View of Auvers with Church, created in the final weeks of his life.

In this canvas, Van Gogh distills the village into a sweeping, rhythmic panorama: the church rising gently above the rooftops, the sloping terrain leading the eye across orchards and houses, and the sky billowing with motion and mood. It’s a quieter composition than some of his stormier works, but it carries an emotional clarity that feels like a deep breath.

This view feels different after walking the paths he walked and seeing the fields, houses, people, and places that shaped his last days. You’ve been inside the story. And now, as you stand where Van Gogh once stood, gazing back at the village he painted, loved, and left, you see what he saw: a place suspended between simplicity and sorrow, beauty and farewell.

It’s not just a landscape. It’s the closing frame of a journey that’s been emotional, creative, and deeply human.

Reflecting on Van Gogh and Auvers

As the sun begins to dip behind the hills and the light turns to that unmistakable Van Gogh gold, you’ll find yourself walking back through Auvers with paint in your mind and earth on your shoes. The church bells may chime faintly in the distance, and the breeze may still rustle through the wheat, but something within you has shifted.

You’ve wandered the same crooked lanes, paused beneath the same skies, and stood where brush once met canvas for the last time. This isn’t just a walk through a village; it’s a conversation between you and Vincent across centuries. Not in words, but in colour, in silence, in the rhythm of your footsteps.

As you board the train home, you may carry no souvenirs in your hands, but your heart will be full. Full of beauty, sorrow, and the quiet knowledge that, for a little while, you didn’t just walk in Van Gogh’s footsteps; you walked within his world.

If you enjoyed this walking tour, be sure to explore our other self-guided journeys following in the footsteps of Van Gogh.

Happy Travels Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Self-Guided Tour of Auvers-sur-Oise: In the Footsteps of Van Gogh first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

Just steps from the centre of town, shaded under the shadow of the Alpilles, hides the old asylum of Saint-Paul de Mausole. It was here, in 1899, that would-be famed artist Vincent Van Gogh came to seek treatment and refuge for the madness that plagued his creative mind. This self-guided tour unravels the layers of Van Gogh’s creative spirit. With each brushstroke, each captivating corner, and each soul-stirring story, you gain a deeper appreciation for the enduring impact of his work on art history and the human experience.

During his stay in Saint-Remy and Saint-Paul de Mausole, Van Gogh produced 150 paintings and over 100 drawings. Many paintings he completed here, like Starry Night, are considered his magnum opus. And while his stay at the asylum was mixed with light and dark moments, there is no doubt that his art continued to flourish here in Provence. So, set foot in the footsteps of this iconic artist, embrace the beauty and darkness that shaped him, and immerse yourself in his enchanting landscapes here in Saint-Remy.

Table Of Contents

1. About Saint-Rémy-de-Provence Van Gogh Walking Tour
2. The Life of Vincent Van Gogh
3. Start Your Walking Tour: Place Jules Pelissier
4. Walking the Van Gogh Art Route
5. Van Gogh's Cypress Trees
6. Van Gogh's Olive Grove
7. Saint-Paul de Mausole, Van Gogh's Asylum
8. Exploring the Gardens
9. The Cloisters
10. Outer Courtyard
11. Van Gogh's Bedroom
12. The Starry Night
13. Van Gogh's Diagnosis
14. The Death of Vincent Van Gogh
15. A Meadow in the Mountains
16. Les Antiques

About Saint-Rémy-de-Provence Van Gogh Walking Tour

This guided walking tour will lead you from the centre of Saint-Remy, along the Route de Van Gogh, and through the Monastery Saint-Paul de Mausole. After exploring the asylum, we will make a short stop outside the Roman ruins, ‘Les Antiques,’ that lie on the outskirts of Saint-Remy. Inside the asylum and the surrounding countryside, we will discover the places that shaped his creativity and immerse ourselves in the beauty that captivated him. Leave yourself at least a half-day to explore the city, take things at your own pace and dive into hidden corners you discover for yourself. If you want to make a whole day out, consider visiting the Roman city of Glanum and treat yourself to a wonderful dinner in town.

History of Saint Remy

Saint-Rémy-de-Provence is located in the Alpilles region. The name “Alpilles” is derived from the Latin word “alpilulae,” meaning “small Alps,” due to its resemblance to the larger Alps mountain range.

Despite being in the middle of France, the area has some of Europe’s most well-preserved Roman ruins. During the 2nd century BC, the Romans established a settlement near Saint-Rémy, known as Glanum. This important Roman city flourished for centuries and boasted some of the most impressive architecture, including huge temples, a large forum, a theatre, and lavish houses. 

Following the decline of the Roman Empire, Saint-Rémy entered a period of relative obscurity. The town underwent a series of transformations and changed hands multiple times between feudal lords. In the 9th century, a Benedictine monastery was established in the town, and its influence grew over time.

Over the years, the town became a center of artistic activity, attracting writers, painters, and great thinkers. In the 16th century, French astrologer and physician Nostradamus wrote his book “Les Prophéties,” which contains cryptic prophecies about future events. Nostradamus was born in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in 1503 and spent time studying medicine and astrology in the region. But no one person left a more indelible mark on the city than Vincent Van Gogh.

The Life of Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent van Gogh was born on March 30, 1853, in Groot-Zundert, Netherlands. Van Gogh was born into a deeply religious family. His father, Theodorus van Gogh, was a Protestant minister. But it was on his mother’s side where the artistic part of his mind came was born. His mother, Anna Carbentus, came from a family of bookbinders and art dealers. At the age of 16, Vincent began working for his uncle’s art dealership, which sparked his interest in art and the world of visual expression. But despite this, his early career path remained focused on the ministry. He attended a theology school in Amsterdam in 1877, intending to become a pastor like his father and grandfather.

Vincent’s Religious Upbringing

However, Vincent’s time as a pastor was short-lived and ultimately unsuccessful. His deeply empathetic and passionate nature often clashed with church practice’s more rigid and formal aspects. He also faced personal challenges and mental health issues, leading to his dismissal as a pastor after a brief stint in a rural congregation in Belgium. When he returned home, his father wanted to send Vincent to a lunatic asylum.

Vincent’s Mental Health Struggles Begin

Throughout his life, Van Gogh faced numerous mental health challenges that affected his ability to maintain stability and find contentment. He experienced periods of intense anxiety, depression, and emotional turmoil. These mental health struggles manifested in episodes of erratic behaviour and led to strained relationships with family, friends, and even fellow artists. But one relationship remained stronger than all the others, and this was with his brother Theo. Theo has seen a few of Vincent’s charcoal drawings he has been making while in Belgium. They were studies of the people and scenes around him. Theo immediately saw what others did not, and it was at his insistence and aid that Vincent was spared the madhouse and instead began his study and pursuit of a career in the arts.

Vincent & Theo

Theo van Gogh played a crucial role in Vincent’s personal and professional life. He was six years younger than Vincent, and while Vincent worked as a preacher, Theo embarked on a career as an art dealer. With an eye for talented artists, Theo was able to recognize Vincent’s talent immediately. He began supporting Vincent both emotionally and financially. And would continue to do so until the end of his life. Theo believed in Vincent’s artistic potential when few others did. And if it were not for Theo’s financial assistance and encouragement throughout his career, there is no doubt in my mind that Vincent would never have become one of the most famous artists of the 19th and 20th centuries.

The written correspondence between Vincent and Theo forms a rich tapestry of their relationship. They exchanged hundreds of letters, offering insights into their thoughts, struggles, and artistic aspirations. The letters reveal Vincent’s emotional vulnerability, challenges, and unwavering commitment to art. Theo, in turn, provided continuous emotional support, advice, and feedback on Vincent’s work. They were more than brothers, more than family, they were truly each other’s soulmates.

Van Gogh in Provence

In 1888, Van Gogh moved to Arles in southern France to seek inspiration and refuge. Here, he produced some of his most iconic works, including The Sunflowers and Café Terrace at Night. However, his time in Arles was also marked by increased mental instability, leading to conflicts with others, including his friend and fellow artist Paul Gauguin. Following a heated argument with Gauguin, Van Gogh infamously severed a portion of his earlobe. He was sent to the local hospital after being found in a pool of blood inside his apartment.

Even after returning to his home from the hospital, Vincent confided in his brother that he was still suffering from hallucinations and delusions of poisoning. On the insistence of both his brothers and physician Félix Rey, Vincent voluntarily admitted himself to the asylum of Saint-Paul de Mausole in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in May 1889.

Start Your Walking Tour: Place Jules Pelissier

We now begin our walk. In the centre of Saint-Remy, Vincent would have arrived to make his way to Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum. Standing in the Place Jules Pelissier, the town’s central square, take a moment to soak in the atmosphere. Look around and admire the historic buildings surrounding you. On the west side of the square, look up and see the towering spire of the Saint-Martin Collegiate Church. This spire was one of the few things Van Gogh could see from his bedroom in the asylum. And it is one of the most iconic elements of his renowned painting, The Starry Night.

One can imagine how lonely Van Gogh must have felt. He would have been so close to the centre of town, and yet he was confined to the grounds of an asylum. On any day of the week, this square is filled with people having lively conversations outside on the terraces. He probably could have heard the noise from the square travel across the fields into the window sill where he painted. Van Gogh loved going out during his time in Arles. And he must have longed for those long nights outside the cafes. 

Walking the Van Gogh Art Route

As you turn south down Rue de la Commune, you are approaching the start of the Van Gogh Route. This is a self-guided walk towards the Monastery of Saint-Paul de Mausole. Along the way, there are 19 signs reproducing Van Gogh’s most emblematic paintings. A short quote from one of Van Gogh’s letters accompanies each image. And while I think trying to contextualize these paintings is so important, much remains to be discovered and discussed. So I hope this article is a great accompaniment. The walk is marked by these small golden emblems on the ground that bare Van Gogh’s iconic signature.

Place Mireille

Standing at the apex of the Place Mireille, you can look down the roads to put yourself at the very spot where Van Gogh painted a scene entitled The Road Menders. In this artwork, Van Gogh captures several figures engaged in manual labour, working along this very road. A road which now bears his name in his honour.

The Road Menders

In his paintings, Van Gogh often depicted scenes of everyday life and the toils of the working class. In The Road Mender, he highlights the dignity and significance of ordinary people and their contributions to society. Compared to Van Gogh’s paintings in Arles, you can see how the colours in this palette are much more muted. Although the brushwork still conveys that classical Van Gogh-ian sense of energy and emotion, the piece has a tone of sadness. Like he is looking into the lives of these everyday Provencal men and women but cannot connect with them, simply paint them from afar.

Canal des Alpines

Continuing along, we can see a large cypress tree on the right side of the road as we cross the Canal Des Alpines. This is just one of many Cypress trees found all over Saint-Remy, which deeply inspired Van Gogh’s oeuvre. 

Van Gogh’s Cypress Trees

Cypress trees hold significant importance and symbolism in the works of Vincent van Gogh. And he painted an entire series dedicated to them during his stay in Saint-Remy. Cypress trees have long been associated with notions of immortality and eternity. The tall and slender form of the cypress tree, reaching upward into the sky, is reminiscent of a natural cathedral spire. Van Gogh often used the cypress tree to symbolize the divine and the connection between the earthly and the spiritual realms. As if the tree, just like himself, were trying to reach out, away from the pains of this mortal realm, into eternal and transcendental peace.

While at the asylum of Saint-Paul de Mausole, he could look out his window every day to gaze upon the cypress trees spread out across the Provencal countryside. When he was allowed to leave the ground and paint en-plein air, these were some of the closest fields where he could come to study and sketch the cypress trees. So this very tree might have been one of the many that Van Gogh painted.

Almond Blossoms

Just past the canal crossing, on the right side of the road, we can see far-reaching fields of almond trees. These iconic trees were etched into the history book in Vicent van Gogh’s painting Almond Blossoms. Van Gogh painted Almond Blossoms as a gift for his brother Theo upon the arrival of his firstborn son. Although Vincent was no doubt worried about how the little child would impact Theo’s ability to support Vincent financially, the love he had for his brother was immense. And therefore, for his new nephew as well.

“I started right away to make a picture for him, to hang in their bedroom, branches of white almond blossom against a blue sky.”

Vincent

He wanted to create a painting that was intended to commemorate the joy and hope associated with the arrival of a new life into the family. Almond blossoms begin to bud at the beginning of Spring. And therefore, they have long been associated with hope and rebirth. Van Gogh’s use of this floral motif suggests a sense of renewal and new beginnings. Perhaps a hope for a renewal in himself as well as for the new baby for Theo.

The delicate blossoms against the vibrant blue sky can be seen as a reflection of Van Gogh’s longing for peace, serenity, and emotional harmony. The upward-reaching branches and the ethereal quality of the blossoms evoke a sense of spirituality. As if these blooms are not placed within our mortal realm but instead up in the heavens.

Influence of Japanese Art

Van Gogh was greatly influenced by Japanese art, particularly ukiyo-e prints. He admired Japanese woodblock prints’ stylized and decorative qualities. Their flattened perspective and stark, bold outlines. In Almond Blossom, Van Gogh employed bold, dark outlines around the blossoms and branches, reminiscent of the black outlines found in Japanese woodblock prints. The bright blue sky against the delicate white blossoms also creates a striking visual effect.

The Colors of Provence

Continuing along Avenue Vincent Van Gogh, take a moment to look around you as you walk, to soak up all the colours of Provence. Van Gogh’s artistic style underwent a significant transformation during his time in Provence and in Saint-Remy. The vivid landscapes and unique light of the area greatly influenced him. As you walk, see what you can find that is reminiscent of Van Gogh’s Provencal colour palette, characterized by bold, deep, and intense colours. You might spot vibrantly painted window shutters and rainbows of flowers blooming along the road. The radiant yellows of the sunflowers and wheat fields dominated the Provençal countryside. And, of course, the bright blue skies above you.

Van Gogh’s Olive Grove

Turn left down Avenue Dr. Edgar Leroy towards Saint-Paul de Mausole. Although this route takes us away from the main road, this detour provides beautiful views across the Alpilles Valley. Further away from houses, you can see far out across the landscape of Provence. 

Along the road, we pass a series of olive groves, which were the subject of dozens of variations painted by Van Gogh. I think Olive Trees are one of his best series. Exemplified in these paintings is his emblematic expressive brushwork. The textural strokes capture the energy and movement of the foliage and the terrain. As if we can feel the breeze through the trees in the painting itself. But walking along this road, try to close your eyes and feel for yourself that movement in the wind that Van Gogh captures, like magic in a bottle.

Olive trees are also frequently associated with the idea of peace. In Roman times, athletes and emperors were awarded olive wreaths as a symbol of peace and honour. And in Christian art, the dove carrying an olive branch is often depicted as a symbol of peace, representing the reconciliation between God and humanity after the Great Flood. Van Gogh’s obsession with these trees was not just because they were what was available for him to paint. But due to his deep desire for tranquillity in his mind.

Saint-Paul de Mausole, Van Gogh’s Asylum

A short walk from the Avenue Dr. Edgar Leroy, make the first right to walk along the thick outer stone walls of the Saint-Paul de Mausole. Take note of how high and imposing these walls are. Ensuring all those inside cannot get out or even see the countryside around them. And although Vincent was given special permission to occasionally venture outside these walls, for the most part, he spent the last months of his life only within the confines of the asylum.

Hours and Admission

Hours: Open seven days a week, from 9:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. in the summer, with earlier closings in the winter. Admission: Adults 7€ | Student, Teens (12-16) and Seniors 5€ | Children under 12 are free

History of Saint-Paul de Mausole

In the 11th century, a Romanesque monastery was built on this site. The name “Mausole” is derived from the Latin word “mausoleum.” It was given this name as its location was a mere few meters from the ancient Roman mausoleum, just outside the ruins of Glanum. The monastery flourished for several centuries, serving as a religious center for monks and pilgrims.

In the 19th century, the monastery underwent a significant transformation. In 1815, the religious order left, and the building was repurposed as a psychiatric institution. It became an asylum known as the “Asile de Saint-Paul,” catering to individuals with severe mental health conditions. The tranquil surroundings and therapeutic environment sought to offer patients a place of refuge and treatment. But treatment for mental health conditions in the 19th century left much to be desired. And for many, treatments were little more than a restrictive diet and twice daily baths.

Van Gogh in Saint-Paul de Mausole

Although Vincent voluntarily admitted himself into the hospital, his stay there relied heavily on his brother Theo’s assistance. Vincent received not one but two private rooms. One of which Vincent could use as his studio. A luxury no other patients were given.

When he first arrived, he was hopeful and spoke positively about his experience. “I feel happier here with my work than I could be outside. By staying here a long time, I shall have learned regular habits, and in the long run, the result will be more order in my life.” Much of this early progress was made simply due to the fact that the doctors here at Saint-Remy forced Van Gogh to stop many of his harmful vices. Van Gogh was not only an alcoholic, but his eating habits and overconsumption of coffee all negatively impacted his mental health conditions.

Exploring the Gardens

When Vincent was first admitted, he couldn’t leave the ground until the doctors and nurses deemed him fit enough to do so. During these first few months, Van Gogh painted only what he found within the gardens surrounding the Monastery. He looked closely at everything around him, finding peace in those quiet little moments and vignettes that proliferated the gardens.

Entering through the front gates, you step into the asylum’s tranquil gardens, left almost exactly as they would have been when Van Gogh stayed here. Lining the outer walls of the asylum are beautiful garden beds. Vines crawl up the stone walls to disguise their prison-like intentions. Van Gogh vividly describes the gardens for us in a letter to Theo;

A view of the garden of the asylum where I am, on the right a gray terrace, a section the house, some rosebushes that have lost their flowers; on the left, the earth of the garden – red ochre – earth burnt by the sun, covered in fallen pine twigs. This edge of the garden is planted with large pines with red ochre trunks and branches, with green foliage saddened by a mixture of black. These tall trees stand out against an evening sky streaked with violet against a yellow background. High up, the yellow turns to pink, turns to green. Under the trees, empty stone benches, dark box. The sky is reflected yellow in a puddle after the rain.

Vincent Van Gogh

Irises

The very first painting that Van Gogh endeavoured to paint was that of the garden’s irises. Van Gogh captures these flowers in different stages of their blooms. Some almost appear to be falling to the ground under the weight of their petals. This painting was one of Van Gogh’s studies, meaning he painted it directly from life without sketching it first. There was some calm he found in these intricate studies. Like he was immersing himself into the world of the painting, leaving his darkened world behind him.

Lilacs

A stark contrast to his almost realistic portrayal of the Irises is Van Gogh’s painting of the Lilacs. You can even see the purple irises in the background of the painting, but their forms are almost abstract. Nothing more than a few swashes of painting. Through Lilacs, we can see Van Gogh’s absolute dynamism in his vivid energy and dramatic expression he communicates to us through his brushstrokes. He pushes the boundaries of impressionism and creates his own post-impressionist style.

When you receive the canvases that I have done in the garden, you will see that I am not too melancholy here.

Vincent Van Gogh

Corner of Saint-Paul Hospital

While Van Gogh was trying to let give his brother hope that his stay here at the asylum was helping him rid himself of the sadness he felt in Arles, there was no doubt that this place still felt like a prison. He felt trapped inside, literally and figuratively both inside the walls of the asylum and inside the prison of his troubled mind.

“You’ll understand that this combination of red ochre, of green saddened with grey, of black lines that define the outlines, this gives rise a little to the feeling of anxiety from which some of my companions in misfortune often suffer, and which is called ‘seeing red’.”

Vincent Van Gogh

Romanesque Chapel

The entrance to the old Romanesque stone chapel is beside the entrance to the asylum. The chapel is as silent as silence can be. The huge stone arches frame the cold stone walls in the darkness. The only light being emitted from the stained glass windows and the entry door. Modern-day lighting has been added to the ceiling to give the visitor a better view of the 11th-century architecture. Van Gogh would have been encouraged, perhaps even forced, to come here for prayer, as this was still thought to be a method of curing their mental illnesses. 

But for Vincent, his relationship with religion was complex. And it continued to evolve throughout his life. Although he was raised in a religious family, his failure to become a pastor and his disillusionment with the church as an institution deeply wounded him. While Van Gogh distanced himself from traditional religious institutions, he continued to engage with religious themes in his art. 

The Pietà

But during Vincent’s time at the asylum, especially when he could not even go outside after his episodes, he found solace and inspiration in biblical stories. And he developed a more personal and reflective view of his spirituality. During moments of despair and loneliness, he believed his art was a spiritual expression and a means to connect with a higher power. When he could not make art of his own, he began making copies of some famous paintings, most of which were religious. He told his brother;

“I started making them inadvertently and now find that I can learn from them and that they give me a kind of comfort. My brush then moves through my fingers like a bow over the strings of a violin – completely for my pleasure.”

Van Gogh made the Pietà from a lithograph of Delacroix’s painting. While the composition of the subject remains the same, Van Gogh’s brought his stylistic approach to the brushwork. The Pietà depicts the Virgin Mary cradling the dead body of Jesus Christ after his crucifixion. The word “Pietà” comes from the Italian word for “pity” or “compassion,” and the theme is one of deep sorrow and mourning. It is impossible not to see the connection for Van Gogh in this work of art. A man desperate for compassion, for understanding, and to be held by a woman. Most of the women in Van Gogh’s were sources of pain and rejection. And yet here we see a woman who is the epitome of acceptance.

Vestibule in the Asylum

Stepping inside the main building, take a minute to walk inside and turn back towards the entry door. This view was captured almost precisely as we see it today by Van Gogh during his stay. Van Gogh hated the living condition here. He described the experience to his brother;

“There is someone here who has been shouting and talking like me all the time for a fortnight. He thinks he hears voices and words in the echoes of the corridors, probably because the auditory nerve is diseased and over-sensitive, and in my case, it was both sight and hearing at the same time, which is usual at the onset of epilepsy, according to what Dr. Félix Rey said one day.”

Especially when compared to the actual view of the hallways, one can really appreciate how his painting displays the profound solitude he felt there. The walls seem to fold in upon themselves. Not a single person can be seen, yet tension is in the air as if we can hear that invisible man screaming from afar.

The Cloisters

Proceed inside the main building, towards the interior cloisters. Cloisters are covered walkways, usually surrounding a courtyard or garden. Cloisters are a distinctive architecture in monasteries built in the 11th century. Today, you can still wander around the cloisters to experience the tranquil space Van Gogh himself would have experienced during his daily walks.

From inside the cloisters, look up at the second-floor windows. It was from here that Van Gogh would have looked down on the gardens on days when he was too ill to go outside.

Outer Courtyard

Before heading upstairs to Van Gogh’s bedroom, walk through the gift shop towards the outer courtyard. Rows and rows of lavender bloom here in the summer and the fields are packed with poppies, irises and roses in the spring.

View of the Asylum and Chapel of Saint-Rémy

As indicated by several letters to Theo, Van Gogh spent the autumn painting in the courtyard. One of the most important paintings he made here was View of the Asylum and Chapel of Saint-Rémy. It is the only painting Vincent made of the entirety of the asylum, not just its gardens or interior walls.

Unlike some paintings he painted indoors from sketches he made outside, this one was painting en-plein air. Standing right here in the lush green space. The colour palette of this painting is very different than his vibrant paintings. The colours are muted, with hues of green infiltrating the rest o of the colours. This was due to the fact that Van Gogh was attempting to capture the changing light outside in the autumn. It was something he was obsessed with—the ability to freeze time and capture a moment in paint.

Van Gogh’s Bedroom

Walking upstairs, we step onto the second floor. It was here where the patient’s bedrooms were held. Inside a room facing out onto the back courtyard, we find the very room where Van Gogh once resided. The room has been meticulously restored to resemble how it appeared during Van Gogh’s stay. The only difference was that Van Gogh was not allowed to paint in the bedroom. Instead, he would have had to go to his studio to do any painting. But the studio and bedroom set up have been combined in this recreation.

Observe the simple furniture and the worn floor. But most important, take your time to gaze out the east-facing window. The bars of which were a prison cell for Van Gogh. He would have been inspired to sketch the painting The Starry Night from this window.

This morning, I saw the countryside from my window a long time before sunrise with nothing but the morning star, which looked very big.

Vincent Van Gogh

The Starry Night

The Starry Night depicts a small village with houses and a church steeple nestled beneath a swirling sky filled with luminous stars. Van Gogh painted this same scene numerous times. But this is the only version of the painting set at night. While the paintings during the day capture the scene accurately, the version at night takes on a more dramatic and expressive tone. Van Gogh takes more risks, changing the scenery to fit his vision. Although historians can date the painting and know that the moon was a waxing gibbous moon on this night, Vincent paints it as a crescent moon.

Although the idea of changing elements of a landscape to suit the intention of the painting better seems like an obvious choice, it was one Van Gogh struggled with. While living with Gaugin, Gaughin frequently encouraged Vincent to delve more into abstraction. But Van Gogh was so focused on painting precisely what he saw. And yet here we see him break away from reality and reach for the stars…literally.

The swirling sky, filled with vibrant stars, seems to move before your eyes. The vivid colours contrast against the night sky. The intense movement and whirling patterns convey a sense of chaos, yet they also evoke a feeling of transcendent beauty and spiritual depth. The stars, in particular, have been interpreted as symbols of hope. They are aspirations beyond the earthly realm. And those iconic cypress trees serve as a bridge from reality towards the celestial domains. It is as if Vincent is trying to paint his way out of his dark existence.

Van Gogh’s Diagnosis

While in Saint-Rémy, Van Gogh’s mental health continued to fluctuate. He experienced both periods of intense creativity and moments of utter despair. During his stay, Van Gogh suffered four serious “attacks” as they were described by the doctors. These were painful and distressing for Van Gogh and his brother Theo. The attack was followed by a period of deep depression in which Van Gogh didn’t paint at all. Then, after some time, Vincent’s creativity and drive would return, and he would resume paintings.

So what did Van Gogh suffer from? This question has enraptured the minds of psychiatrists from around the world for ages. And the truth is that we will never know without these doctors being able to speak directly to the man himself. But many surmise that Van Gogh suffered from manic-depressive psychosis, worsened by his epileptic fits. Epilepsy was prevalent on his mother’s side, and as it is a hereditary disease, this connection makes sense. These attacks were brought on by triggering events in Van Gogh’s life. 

At Eternity’s Gate

One of the most intensive paintings done in Saint Remy was his painting entitled At Eternity’s Gate. Vincent had made this sketch of a pensioner and war veteran in 1882, and while recovering from one of his intensive attacks, he began painting this sorrowful scene. And yet, even in the darkest moments, we have the reference to eternity. As if Van Gogh himself is still clinging to his faith to see himself through this period of darkness.

Portrait of a patient

Though here there are some patients very seriously ill, the fear and horror of madness that I used to have has already lessened a great deal. And though here you continually hear terrible cries and howls like beasts in a menagerie, in spite of that, people get to know each other very well and help each other when their attacks come on.

Vincent Van Gogh

Prisoners’ Round (after Gustave Doré)

Another painting that seems to evoke the internal nature of Van Gogh’s mind during his time in Saint-Remy was Prisoners’ Round. This painting is another copy he made after a print by Gustave Doré. The scene depicts a group of prisoners walking around in a circle in the exercise yard at Newgate Prison. The scene is dark, damp and almost claustrophobic. The walls seem to cave in upon the prisoners below.

The man in the group’s centre is placed at the forefront of the image; his head turned slightly towards us, the viewer. This man is also the only one now wearing a cap on his head, showing off his strawberry blonde hair, the same as Vincent himself. Vincent is placing himself in a literal prison, as no doubt this is how he felt inside the asylum and the torment of his mind. And yet even in the darkest recesses of the world, there is hope. Small and delicate but present. And we can see this by looking closely at the two white butterflies soaring high above the prisoners below. As if they are on their way out, escaping this dark world and flying toward the sun.

The Funeral of Van Gogh

When Van Gogh died, only two months after leaving the asylum, this was one of the paintings that Theo chose to be placed next to his coffin. Painter Émile Bernard came to Vincent’s funeral. When he saw this painting, he wrote,

Convicts walking in a circle surrounded by high prison walls, a canvas inspired by Doré of a terrifying ferocity and which is also symbolic of his end. Wasn’t life like that for him, a high prison like this with such high walls – so high? And these people walking endlessly round this pit, weren’t they the poor artists, the poor damned souls walking past under the whip of Destiny?

Émile Bernard

Road with Cypress and Star 

I want to end this tour, in the treatment room, just opposite Van Gogh’s bedroom. Here, Vincent would take his twice-daily baths, the only “treatment” the doctor gave him to cure his illness. A therapy that no doubt made little to no difference. Instead, he was left abandoned by the very people, the doctors and nurses, who he so desperately had hoped would cure him of his disease. And there must have been no worse feeling than the hopelessness that that abandonment would have caused. More than anything, I think Vincent was very lonely and needed companionship. His search for romantic love in his life has been utterly heartbreaking. And the real true love of his life had always been his brother. To be closer to him, Vincent decided to check himself out of the hospital and move to the small town of Auvers-sur-Oise near Paris (where Theo lived.) 

The Obelisk of Death

Vincent’s last painting while in Saint-Remy is this scene entitled Road with Cypress and Star. This vertical landscape depicts a winding road centred by a deep, dark cypress tree. Many call this an “obelisk of death,” as if Van Gogh knew he was to die.

Behind the tree is a vast expanse of yellow wheat fields and blue mountains. The night sky dominates the upper part of the canvas, with a bright yellow star shining brilliantly above the cypress tree on the left and a vibrating crescent moon to the right. The sky is painted in swirling, turbulent patterns. But it is the bottom of the painting that we will focus upon. In the sea of churning grass are a pair of travellers, walking almost arm in arm. The two men are walking towards the tremendous black cypress tree. Their heads held high, unafraid, looking up towards the beautiful eternal sky above them. Beauty surrounds them in the face of great darkness.

The Death of Vincent Van Gogh

When Van Gogh arrived in Auvers-sur-Oise, he was placed under the care of Dr. Paul Gachet. Despite receiving some medical attention, his mental health continued to decline. And on July 27, 1890, at the age of 37, Van Gogh tragically took his own life by shooting himself in the chest. He passed away two days later, with his brother Theo by his side. 

Devastated at the loss of his brother and suffering from syphilis, Theo died only a year later. They were buried together, side by side, in the town cemetery of Auvers-sur-Oise. Ivy was planted on top of their graves. And today, the vines have grown together, clutching each other, forming one large mass. Emblematic of the connection these two brothers had for one and one in their lifetime. And now for eternity.

Leaving the Asylum

We now take our time to leave the Saint-Paul Asylum, walking back through the gardens and out onto VC des Carrieres road. As you walk back through the gardens, we walk the same path that Vincent would have taken upon his departure. One of Vincent’s last letters to Theo from Saint-Remy spoke enthusiastically of his health and creative endeavours.

At the moment the improvement is continuing, the whole horrible crisis has disappeared like a thunderstorm, and I’m working here with calm, unremitting ardour to give a last stroke of the brush. I’m working on a canvas of roses on bright green background and two canvases of large bouquets of violet Irises, one lot against a pink background in which the effect is harmonious and soft through the combination of greens, pinks, violets. On the contrary, the other violet bouquet (ranging up to pure carmine and Prussian blue) standing out against a striking lemon yellow background with other yellow tones in the vase and the base on which it rests is an effect of terribly disparate complementaries that reinforce each other by their opposition.

Vincent Van Gogh

A Meadow in the Mountains

Exiting through the main gates of the asylum, we turn to the left to walk down the small path that leads into the Parc D’Amour. This beautiful park is where Vincent Van Gogh would come to paint the mountains. In his painting, A Meadow in the Mountains: Le Mas de Saint-Paul, we can see a vast meadow surrounded by rolling hills and mountains in the background. The same mountains we can see spread out in front of our eyes.

The hills in this background play a significant role in this painting. They represent a sense of permanence, stability, and grandeur. Something that we know Vincent was profoundly searching for in his life. A state of tranquillity, enduring, just like nature itself. Their pale blue colour contrasts with the dynamic nature of the vibrant yellow and green meadow below. Walking along this path, you can take in the calm surrounding this valley. The sound of the wind rushing through the tall grass is the only sound that casts itself down on the ground in the sun-soaked afternoon.

Les Antiques

Walking through the park, towards the west side where the D5 roadway now passes, we can hope across the road to see the ruins of Glanum. Just outside a car park stands the great Antiques of ancient Rome. “Les Antiques” refers to these two Roman monuments that once stood on the outskirts of Glanum. The grandest of the two structures is the Triumphal Arch of Glanum. It was erected in the 1st century BCE to commemorate the military victories of the Roman Empire. This arch would have served as the entrance gate to Glanum. The arch is adorned with intricate carvings, including images of military generals and their prisoners. All across the arch are beautiful carvings of the Provencal harvest. We can see grapes, olives, stone fruits and even chestnuts. These agricultural symbols were a means for Rome to display the wealth of their land to any visitors. 

Mausoleum of the Julii

The tallest of the two structures is the Mausoleum of the Julii. The name of the 11th-century abbey, Monastery of Saint-Paul de Mausole, refers to this very Mausole or Mausoleum. When the Benedictine abbey was built in the 11th century, this site was still as important to the people of Provence as it is today. Although Vincent never painted these Antiquities, he would have no doubt visited these sites frequently as they were so close to the abbey. The Mausoleum of the Julii, also known as the “Tomb of the Julii,” dates back to the 1st century BCE. It was built to house the tombs of the mother and father of the three Julii brothers.

The father was a military general, and Julii was one of the most distinguished families in Rome. Carved into the tombs are a series of acanthus leaves, representing eternal rebirth to the ancient Romans. As a man obsessed with eternity, one can imagine how this structure would have greatly captured the imagination of the great artist. Perhaps inspiring Van Gogh to continue his search for the hereafter in the symbolism he painted into his masterpieces.

I hope you have enjoyed this extraordinary journey into the tumultuous yet brilliant artistic world of Vincent van Gogh. As you wander through the charming streets that once captivated the tormented artist, you can’t help but feel a sense of reverence for his resilience and creativity amidst personal struggles. I hope that you come away from Saint-Remy with a deeper understanding of this masterful painter, and maybe seeing this magnificent part of Provence will ignite your own artistic journey!

Happy Travels, Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Self-Guided Tour of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in the Footsteps of Van Gogh first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

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Van Gogh was born in Zundert but spent one of the most important years of his life as a painter in Arles, France. Arles and the provincial countryside inspired Van Gogh to create brighter and more exciting landscapes. This walking tour will wind you across the city, through its narrow, quaint and beautiful cobblestone backstreets. Our journey takes us along the Rhone River and into the various picturesque squares that Arles is famous for. The walking tour will show you the various works of art that Van Gogh painted while living in Arles and the buildings he frequented as a resident of this historic city. 

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Table Of Contents

1. History
2. Accommodation
3. Access
4. Walking Tour
5. The Alyscamps
6. Jardin d’Eté 
7. Roman Amphitheatre
8. Rue Voltaire
9. Restaurant Carrel
10. Yellow House
11. Nuit étoilée sure le Rhône
12. Musée Réattu
13. Vincent van Gogh Foundation Arles
14. Place du Forum
15. Le Café Van Gogh
16. Old Arles Hospital
17. The Bridge of Trinquetaille
18. Get the Downloadable PDF of the Van Gogh Arles Walking Tour!

History

Roman Arles

Arles, a large city in the French region of Provence, has a long history that dates back to Roman times. Back then, it was one of the most important cities in the Empire. There are signs of occupations as early as 800 BC. The Romans took over the town in 123 BC and continued to enrich the city with their incredible architecture and infrastructure. Emperor Constantine I built the Roman bathhouses. His son, Constantine II, was born in Arles as the emperor had made it a home away from home. In 408 BC, the new emperor Constantine made Arles the capital city of Rome. Arles became a cultural and religious centre throughout the late Roman Empire.

For hundreds of years, the city of Arles continued to hold absolute authority over those in power. Arles joined the countship of Provence in 1239. Due to its proximity to the river, it was a mighty trade city. But in the 19th century, with the advent of the railroad, its significance began to diminish. The town became stagnant, with little to no modern development.

Van Gogh Comes to Arles

But this relic from the past was precisely why Van Gogh was so drawn to the city. The city was full of memories yet peaceful enough to feel like an escape. Everywhere he looked, it seemed as if something was waiting to be discovered.

Sadly, after years of poverty and suffering from various mental illnesses, Van Gogh committed suicide at age 37. But this was not the end of his story. Despite not being appreciated during his lifetime, his impact in the history books is unmatched. And Van Gogh’s stories from Arles put the city back on the map. After years of almost being forgotten, the city suddenly was a hot spot for visitors trying to follow in his footsteps.

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Accommodation

If you want to spend a night in Arles, the best place to stay is the little B&B, L’aubergine Rouge. This little hotel is tucked away in the southwest corner of Arles on one of the most darling streets you’ll ever wander down. They have several rooms inspired by the painter where you’ll feel like you’re sleeping inside of his paintings.

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Access

Most people arriving in Arles arrive either by car or by train. Arles is just an hour from Marseille, 35 minutes from Nimes, and 40 minutes from Avignon if you rent a car. Often you’ll find if you are travelling from either Nimes, Marseille or Avignon, the train is often an even faster journey than driving! So long as the departure and arrival times align with your plans. The train from Nimes is 30 minutes, Marseille takes 45 minutes, and Avignon is only a 20 minutes journey. Most days, trains arrive and depart about every hour from these cities.

If you are driving into Arles for the day, the best place to park your car is in the Parking Garage near the Post Office. This is just on the outskirts of town, meaning you won’t have to drive through too many narrow streets. Since it’s a little outside the centre, you also won’t have to pay a huge mark up for being in the middle of town. This parking lot is very reasonably priced and right beside the first stop on our tour.

Walking Tour

The Alyscamps

The first stop on the walking tour is the Alyscamps Necropolis. The Alyscamps is one of the oldest Roman ruins in Arles. Roman cities didn’t allow burials inside the city limit for fear of dead infecting the living. Therefore, roads into the city were often lined with tombs and mausoleums. And the Alyscamps was THE place to be buried! People had bodies shipped from all over Europe for the honour of being buried here. 

But during the middle ages, when it became more traditional to be buried in a church graveyard, the Alyscamps fell out of fashion. In the Renaissance, old roman sarcophagi were given as gifts to visiting dignitaries. And others were looted by local thieves. All of this contributed to the Alyscamps falling into disrepair, and eventually, it was a forgotten piece of history. The site was wild and overgrown and yet a naturally beautiful environment.

When Van Gogh arrived in Arles, it was still a ruin. He painted four scenes here in 1888, sitting in front of the ancient Roman ruins. Paul Gauguin was staying with Van Gogh during this period. Although their relationship was fraught with hardship, it also inspired the best in both artists. Van Gogh gifted one of his Alyscamps paintings to Gaugin. And even lost past his death, this painting hung in Gaugin’s room for years. Since Van Gogh made it famous once more, the UNESCO World Heritage group has turned it into a heritage site. And restored much of the place to be appreciated by visitors once more.

Jardin d’Eté 

Walk north along the Avenue des Alyscamps and turn left down Avenue Victor Hugo. On the north side of the street, you will begin to see the bright green grass of the Jardin d’Eté starting to peek through. 

The Jardin d’Eté is a relaxing urban park situated against the backdrop of the ancient Roman amphitheatre. There are dozens of fountains and playgrounds, so it’s a great place for kids to have a nice runaround.

For Van Gogh, it was a place he would often come to paint on sunny, summer days. In a letter to his sister, he wrote of the gardens in the park:

I don’t know whether you can understand that one may make a poem by arranging colours…Similarly, the bizarre lines, purposely selected and multiplied, meandering all through the picture may not present a literal image of the garden, but they may present it to our minds as if in a dream.

Van Gogh

Roman Amphitheatre

Walk north along the pathways in the park until you can exit to the east of the Roman Amphitheatre. You’ll walk out onto Rue Porte de Laure. Continue walking along until you reach the imposing Roman Arena. Built in 90 AD, the amphitheatre was capable of seating over 20,000 spectators. People would come from far and wide to watch chariot races and bloody hand-to-hand battles. Unlike the Colosseum in Rome, this amphitheatre is still used for concerts and festivals to this very day.

Vincent went to many bullfights in his time in Arles. He wrote to his friend: 

Have seen bullfights in the arenas. The crowd was magnificent, great multicoloured crowds. One on top of the other on 2, three tiers, with the effect of sun and shade and the shadow cast by the immense circle.

Van Gogh

Van Gogh painted a scene in 1888 entitled Arena in Arles. The painting is more focused on the spectators than the action or environment. It is a rough and tumble painting. Quick brush strokes and unfinished shapes are obscured in the background. The speed of the painting reflects the voracious atmosphere of the bullfights. A small bull can be seen off in the distance. Spectators are excitedly turning to chat with their neighbours and cheering for their favourite fighters.

This jittery motion used throughout the painting was a technique that Van Gogh perfected under Gauguin’s influence. His paintings of dance halls also had the same, almost unfinished approach. This technique conveyed to the viewer the idea that some spaces were filled with such powerful energy they simply couldn’t be captured in a moment of stillness.

Rue Voltaire

From the arena, walk north along Rue Voltaire. Walking down this street is like taking a step back in time. Dozens of vibrant cafes and restaurants pour out onto the street. Dazzling awnings hang off ancient stone buildings. Pastel shutters brighten up the rainiest day. You will see so many little scenes as you walk, which could have stepped right out from one of Van Gogh’s paintings.

Restaurant Carrel

When you reach Rue Léon Blum, turn left and stop on the corner of Rue Amédée Pichot. When Van Gogh first moved to Arles, he stayed in a room above the Restaurant Carrel, owned by Albert Carrel and his wife. Vincent wrote to his brother Theo when he arrived in Arles:

At times it seems to me that my blood is more or less ready to start circulating again, which wasn’t the case lately in Paris, I really couldn’t stand it anymore.

Van Gogh

Shortly after arriving in Arles, the lack of creativity he experienced in Paris disappeared. With his creative spark alight once more, he painted View of a Butcher’s Shop. One can imagine that this butcher shop perhaps was painted from the very room he stayed in. Walking up and down this otherwise ubiquitous street gives you a sense of the area Vincent first called home in Arles.

But Van Gogh didn’t live on this street for long as he often had mighty disagreements with his landlord. While he might not have loved his landlord, he did love the neighbourhood. It wouldn’t be long until Van Gogh would soon move into his iconic Yellow House, which was just up the street.

As you near the end of the Street, Rue Voltaire turns into Rue de less Cavalerie. You will pass through the two giant aged guard towers. These towers are surrounded on either side by the ancient city walls.

Yellow House

Across the roundabout, at the corner of Rue Georges Tinarage and Avenue de Stalingrad, is a simple restaurant. But this was once where you would have found Van Gogh’s beloved home. The same one featured in his painting The Yellow House. 

The original house had four rooms and a small studio. Vincent painted the entire building bright, sunflower yellow. In the painting, you can see a train rushing by in the distance. These trains were Vincent’s way into the countryside, his beloved muse. More than any woman. He loved the city, but the wild sunflower fields, blossoming fruit trees, charming peasants and golden wheat fields were where his brush came alive.

Nuit étoilée sure le Rhône

Turning left, make your way towards the Rhone River. Here you’ll find the scene from painting Nuit étoilée sure le Rhône. Don’t get this mixed up with Starry Night, although they are both very similar and show Van Gogh’s obsession with capturing night effects. In a letter he wrote to his brother Theo, he said:

Often it seems to me the night is even more richly coloured than the day.

Van Gogh

Nuit étoilée sure le Rhône is an explosion of blue; Prussian blue, ultramarine and cobalt. Each one of these colours are contrasted with intense orange and yellow. The firery colours representing the gas lights reflecting in the water. A man and his wife walk along the shore away three boats, bobbing in the water. Whereas Starry Night is a dreamlike fury of brush strokes, Nuit étoilée sure le Rhône is a much calmer scene. The brush strokes are evenly spaced, and even the lights on the water are still. Not a single ripple seems to disturb them.

Musée Réattu

Continue walking down the water’s edge. The fantastic pedestrian promenade is ideal for taking in all the sights along the river. After about five minutes, you’ll reach the Musée Réattu. When Van Gogh lived in Arles the museum was a place he hated. He is quoted as saying:

The women are beautiful here, it’s no joke — on the other hand, the Arles museum is dreadful and a joke.

Van Gogh

Van Gogh was very judgmental of other artists. Perhaps out of jealousy of those who seemed to manage to make the kind of living, he would never. During his lifetime, he only sold one painting. He couldn’t understand how people could see the greatest in these artists and not himself.

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Vincent van Gogh Foundation Arles

As a cosmic coincidence, the Vincent van Gogh Foundation in Arles is located only a few minutes south of the Musée Réattu. In 1983, Yolande Clergue founded the Association for the Creation of the Foundation Van Gogh. He was a long-time resident of Arles and believed there should be an institute to study and educate people on Van Gogh’s influence on modern artists in Provence. In 2010, the city of Arles gave the historic Hôtel Léautaud de Donines to the institute. It was renovated to become an educational space.

The museum features a large collection of Van Gogh’s letters and perhaps one or two original Van Gogh paintings. Don’t come here expecting to see those famous works of art. The museum is meant to highlight modern artists influenced by Van Gogh and the city of Arles.

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Place du Forum

Walking along Rue du Dr Fanton and turning down Rue de la Place, you will come up the Place du Forum. The Place du Forum was once the historic city centre during the Roman ages. You can still see one of the ancient columns embedded into the side of the Nord-Pinus Grand Hotel.

Vincent’s fixation on the appearance of the world at night continues and is highlighted in Café Terrace at Night. He said in a letter:

In the past, they used to draw, and paint the picture from the drawing in the daytime. But I find that it suits me to paint the thing straight away. It’s quite true that I may take a blue for green in the dark, a blue lilac with a pink lilac since you can’t make out the nature of the tone. But it’s the only way of getting away from the conventional black night with a poor, pallid and whitish light, while in fact, a mere candle by itself gives us the richest yellows and oranges.

Van Gogh

Le Café Van Gogh

Despite Vincent’s lack of popularity in his lifetime, Van Gogh is big business these days. Le Café Van Gogh is a recreation of the original cafe from the painting. Although it’s not the authentic spots from the painting, it has been done up to look as much like the real thing as possible. While the square is pretty busy and expensive, it is also a stunning place to sit with a coffee and enjoy the scenery. 

Old Arles Hospital

Walk south from the forum until you reach the Old Arles Hospital. One evening, after Gauguin had made it clear to Vincent that he had made plans to leave, Van Gogh returned home alone. Suffering from hearing voices, especially when left alone, Van Gogh was tormented. In a fit of madness, he cut off his ear. Perhaps as a means to cut out the noise of the voices. Van Gogh bandaged the wound and wrapped the ear in the paper. He delivered it to a cleaning woman who worked at a local brothel that Gaugin and Van Gogh frequented together.

Van Gogh was found unconscious by a policeman and taken directly to the Old Arles Hospital the following day. Félix Rey, a young doctor still in training, treated him inside his hospital. Van Gogh was diagnosed with “acute mania with generalized delirium during his time in hospital.” Vincent would go from being semi-lucid to suffering from hallucinations and delusions. His brother Theo came to visit him in hospital despite getting engaged the day previous. Nothing would keep Theo from being by Vincent’s side.

Hospital in Arles

Dr. Rey felt sorry for Vincent. He would allow Vincent into the courtyard to paint on his more lucid days. And paint he did. Even today, this courtyard manages to bring a sense of peace to even the most scattered mind. The golden walls seem to glow in the sunlight. The garden is full of lustrous flowers which burst open in the afternoon. Van Gogh’s painting, Hospital in Arles, depicted the courtyard in 1888. Looking at it today, you can barely see the passage of time between the two.

Ward in the Hospital in Arles

He also created two other paintings during his stay in the hospital. One was a gift to Dr. Félix Rey. It was a portrait of the beloved doctor who showed Vincent genuine kindness. The second painting is entitled Ward in the Hospital in Arles. The scene is quiet and simple. But Vincent’s slight distortions represent the isolation and confinement while living here. 

Starry Night

In 1889, Van Gogh was committed to the Saint-Paul de Mausole asylum in Saint-Rémy de Provence. From there managed to channel his pain into one of the most impactful paintings, Starry Night. This painting is all about dreams versus reality. The natural versus the divine. It brings us into the beautiful madness inside Van Gogh’s mind. In his mind, he lived in the stars, beloved and looked up to by everyone on earth. The swirling, fluid paint in the sky contrasts the rigid city landscape below. Like a window into the heavens, a wonderful dream, unlike our structured reality. 

The Bridge of Trinquetaille

Walking back towards the river, walk up the water’s edge. Here you can see the scene from the painting of The Bridge of Trinquetaille. Van Gogh was in love with bridges. They are frequently featured in his works. In a letter to his brother, he wrote:

I have a View of the Rhône — the Trinquetaille iron bridge, where the sky and the river are the colour of absinthe — the quays a lilac tone, the people leaning on the parapet almost black, the iron bridge an intense blue — with a bright orange note in the blue background and an intense Veronese green note. One more effort that’s far from finished — but one at least where I’m attempting something more heartbroken and therefore more heartbreaking.

Van Gogh

Walk out to the centre of the Pont de Trinquetaille, where you’ll have a beautiful view across the Rhone River. Looking out, see if you can spot all those magnificent colours Van Gogh spoke about in his letter. Van Gogh is an artist whose use of colour is unparalleled. He saw the world in a way that many of us simply miss. Take this time to yourself. Put away your phone or camera for the moment and simply look over the horizon.

While Van Gogh’s depression was something he couldn’t overcome, there is no doubt that, at least for a time, Arles gave him a momentary respite from the overwhelming sadness he felt in his soul. And no matter who you are, I hope that visiting Arles brings you the same sense of peace Van Gogh felt when he was here. You may even see a little bit of that magic Van Gogh etched into history. And bring a little bit of that magic home with you too!

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