Walking along the streets of the neighboring village,
I was happily surprised to find the olive tree surrounded by pansies.
The pink backdrop adds perfection.
Midday and the shutter is half closed.
Basil ready for pesto.
The hike up to the clock tower gave me this perspective.
In France, the center of town is often, if not always, a maze of tiny streets mounting in a circle with the church in the middle.
…"ERIE" is on the end of many French words. Do you know what this sign says?
As soon as someone says, "Cremerie" I am going to say, "Voila!"
Up above the city, from one church tower overlooking another.
If you want to see the backroads of France, then go on the back roads.
If you want to see how the French live, then visit a non-touristic village and stay there
for a week or so and immersing yourself in the daily life of a small town.
The foothills of Provence. Garlaban in the distance.
I wanted to ask him if he sold wine. But then thought he might think I was flirting and ask me up.
As I walked away, I thought I should have asked him certainly, he had wine for sale.
Looking up at the clock tower.
A facade next to the town hall, called "Hotel de Ville".
The massive, century old, olive pot, now used as a plant holder.
Thought you might enjoy a few postcards, from the village next door to where I live.
Leave a Reply