It started with Remi suggesting that we go on a picnic. Now, I know a bit of him after twelve years, not all–thankfully–and could sense that there was something not at all random going on. By now, I know well to just let the explorer explore, for he has an infallible instinct. And so, packed up and armed with paté, we drove an hour north until we were at the base of Mount Ventoux.
We lunched, we drank a bit of wine, we took a nap. And then the secret was revealled: Remi wanted to take a looksee at the village above, Crillon le Brave.
Was the charm immediate?
Evidently it was.
As we rounded each corner, giving way to a different bit of lovely more glorious than the last, I sighed.
And waved a little hello at our picnic spot in the valley below (follow the road to the intersection of vines on the left, olive groves on the right, under the big tree).
Surprisingly, for such an utter patch of bijouterie, there were still corners untouched…
…But oh there were secret signs that Crillon le Brave was most definitely appreciated by a certain few.
Remi and I know Provence…quite well, I would say and yet this discovery reminded me of another and knocked me breathless.
Literally! I was snapping like a mad turtle to the point of hyperventilation so there will be more to come…
Until then, yep, follow that good light, the one that makes you happy and have a fantastic weekend.
To listen to:
Charming indeed! I'd say closer to exquisite – as are your beautiful photographs!
Before I came to Paris, this is how I imagined it would look like. Yes, please do laugh. My 12-year-old self couldn't have been more off!
I long for the days when I am not in the urban shuffle and quest for the best here in Paris, but for now, I have your blog. Thank you for these posts. I like going on little trips with you. : )