Been away....Now I'm back part 2

There are several bigger and quite interesting towns in the area, Avignon being the best in my opinion. It is a medium sized town, but one that has bigger significance than it's actual size probably. For a while, a few centuries back, it was where the Pope was based and there is a huge palace still dominating the town. It's now a museum and hugely impressive. To a degree it's been restored to try and simulate what it was like in the 15th century, but the thing that struck me most was how overwhelming the place is still. At the time it must have been like going to a different planet. And it struck me how much power and money the church had in those days. Far more than today. I always find it a bit strange going round old castles and the like because they feel very bare and cold nowadays. I try to imagine myself in the time they were built though, and they must have been warmer and more welcoming. There must have been lots of rugs, drapes, paintings and such around. Not just bare stone walls as we see today. The other thing that has made Avignon famous is it's bridge. In the UK kids are taught French by singing a song about dancing on the bridge. Not sure why this folk song exists, but it kind of sticks in the head.

The pace of life in rural southern France is wonderful. In the mornings I would go to the local bakery and buy some fresh croissants and a baguette. For some reason the bread in France tastes very different to the same products in the UK. There follows a leisurely breakfast of meats, cheeses, spreads and fresh juice, washed down with coffee. All the while the sun is out, people are pottering around and taking the time to chat to each other, and life just feels like it's winding merrily along. No stress, no rush. People look healthier and happy. Much more so than in London for example. I know things usually appear rosier when you're on holiday, but it did make me think a lot about how good life would be in Provence instead of London. To the extent that I started to look in estate agents windows at properties for sale (how much they were, that sort of thing). The situation was heightened by the fact I was reading a book called Driving Over Lemons, by Chris Stewart, which is a bout a family who bought a farm in Spain and moved there to start a new life. It's a true story and very down to earth, and just relates their experiences good and bad. It's very funny and quite inspiring.

Having been away from France for a few years now I'd forgotten how much I loved speaking French I wasn't sure how easy it would be to slip back into it, but from the first moment it felt incredibly natural. And I realised how much I loved it. For me it is a gentler and more expressive language, despite not being my first tongue. I'd also forgotten how good the smell of the countryside in southern France is. The hot earth, pine trees, flowers, scrubland and grasses (collectively know as the maquis) has a sweet, almost sickly smell. But it's the right side of bad. It's very hard to describe unless you've smelt it, but the best way I can is that it smells 'hot' I guess part of the appeal to me is that it brings back memories of childhood holidays in that part of the world, but it's also quite a lazy smell and induces relaxation.