The village

Somewhere in the middle of the scrublands, with vines and pine trees, runs a river. On its banks lies a Village that only the Languedoc can offer. Life at a great pace, a sunny flash. In the alleyways, there is always something to say; a dogs bark emitting from under a porch, closed shutters secretly keeps the cool inside a house.

Also, that whiff of fennil, the sound of the door bell Chez Robert, the plain tress murmering with cicadas…. Take only a few steps along the small walled paths, with ageless look out towers, gardens of lavender and caper plants, and distant memories of a mans’ footprint of 40 000 years ago, close to here, in the caves of Las Fons...

One can stand, with a sprig of wild mint dangling from the corner of ones mouth, listening to the sounds of the warm wind through the reeds by the small pebbled beach, slip into the refreshing water of the River Cesse, while saying to yourself- not too loudly, there is nowhere else like this.

And tonight, while the setting sun looks like dying embers around the hills, the village will re-awake; crunchy olives with a faint flavour of bayleaf, a drizzle of our olive oil on a half tomato that was grown in our local gardens, a local goats cheese to share while trying to discover which of our local wines is the best in the world!
Benvenguts al pais de la vida vertadièra.

Welcome to the place where real life is found!

Special thanks to our translator, Michael Bowditch.

Last Updated (Tuesday, 20 January 2009 16:26)