Enjoying the moment in the south of France
So we went to a nearby village, Seillans, siad to be one of the most beautiful. And when walking a long among the medevial buildings, it’s almost possible to dream back in time. How was it to live here in the 14th century?
I am dressed in shorts made of a pair of old jean, and I wear my hoody. Still it’s a bit crispy in the air. Autumn isn’t coming. Autumn is here.
The sky is clear, the landscape exquisite. I see the mountains nearby. The lower ones covered with trees, many of them oaks. and a bit further away they are higher, more grayish, but still sort of soft. No really peaks at the horizon.
And it’s stunningly beautiful. It’s like I am both watching and eating the views at the same time. Luke trying to store them inside, for a grey and rainy day.
And we find a restaurant, and sit outdoors. Most of our stay here in France I have cooked, and this was an opportunity to be served by another.
And I looked at the menus, not choosing from price level, but from desire. I wanted snails, and thought I would get them in shells, covered with garlic, butter and persil. And they were. And then I longed for fish, so I had a fish filet.
We ate slowly. Me enjoying the moment, even if it was a bit chilly. Just this: I am being served! Not at all taking if for granted. Being grateful. Relaxing. Looking around us. Seeing the big plane tree, sitting next to an outdoor more than three hundred year old washing place and a fountain from the same era.
When living in the area 30 years ago, I read several books about Provence. Like some of Marcel Pagnol. And there I had read about the communal washing places, the ovens where people could go and bake their bread, and stuff like that. So I easily go there inside, into another time, imagining also the hardships of the feodal society. And now it’s sort of turned into something cosy, to something that we consider really beautiful.
Staffan, interested in technique and buildings was walking around, walking up stairs in the nearby buildings, seeing also the dirt, and the reminders that cosy houses whose grounds could be more than 500 years old, isn’t just picturesque. I guess they are cold and humid to live in at winter.
And still, walking the narrow streets, where no cars can enter is still breathtaking. Also seeing what people till do to make it beautiful.
At a nearby table was a bunch of cyclists, taking a long nice lunch in the village, before continuing their ride up the mountains. And bikers are something we’ve seen every weekend, and many of them older than us.
As the waiter asked if I wanted a dessert, I remembered that I had seen a creme brûlée on the chart. And she said that it was blazed with the local liquor genepi. And I didn’t want to resist it - so I ordered it together with a cafe creme, enjoying every spoon of it. Feeling happy. Just by the slow tasting, in all it’s simplicity.
As we walked back to the car I realized I have no memory of ever going here, and it’s just two villages away from Callian. I don’t know if that is true. Have I been here before or not? Well, it doesn’t matter, the experience was still new to me.
Charlotte Cronquist is a warrior of love
Love is the answer
