None of the people I've met who've been to Provence have mentioned Le Mistral. I knew the word and had a vague romantic idea of some sort of seasonal winds that blow down across the lavender fields, but I had no clue how fierce these winds are or that they affect the region on average 100 days out of the year. We first noticed them at Notre Dame de la Garde where they were crazy wild, blowing us off balance and making it a little frightening to walk too close to the railings on the hillside plaza. Linda was taking a picture for a fairly conservative looking Muslim couple. She said she had to stop and tuck her shirt in so as not to flash them as the winds blew up (she would like her mom to know that she did in fact tuck her shirt in so no harm). Later that night we were eating in a restaurant back down by the harbor and the winds started to rattle the the windows and blow the fabric roof of the eating area around in a threatening way, as well as picking up and tossing fairly large pieces of debris outside. Walking home, we had to lean into the wind in order to make headway. At lunch the next day, we were sitting at a cafe in a courtyard when the wind picked up our neighbor's lunch and dumped it into her lap ( this was a ceramic plate, not a paper one). I said I knew about vol au vent, but I'd never seen salad au vent before. Later that afternoon, the little bird we were watching almost got blown off the wall by the wind. Our planned cruise to the Calanques (Mediterraneann fjords) the next day was canceled due to the winds and the ferris wheel in town shut down for the day because it wasn't safe to run it. The sound the wind made blowing through the spokes of the wheel kept making me think there was a sporting event nearby because I thought I was hearing a crowd roaring.
So I have a new respect for Le Mistral. People here seem to take it in stride, but it is definitely a force to be reckoned with.