I’m getting through my pictures from last year’s trip to Provence slowly but surely. A couple of weeks ago I talked about Gordes, and just 10 km away the landscape dramatically transforms into iron-rich soil and you come across Roussillon. It’s such a noticeable change in the appearance of the red cliffs and consequently, the colors of the town. Whereas Gordes feels blindingly white because of the limestone, Roussillon feels much more Mediterranean. Like a clay pot. The houses are saturated in bright, earthy colors. It’s a bit less formidable and a bit more reachable. Mom and I walked the town and discovered, like many other towns in Provence, the haphazard arrangement of the town plan, which is conducive to lots of nooks and crannies and, thus, lots of fun unexpected doors and windows. It’s a door-lover’s paradise!
Colors of sorbet, non?
I loved the iron-work detailing throughout the town. These metalsmiths had a good time.
Watermelon house? Please and thank you.
The view.
Isn’t this a fantastic covering for a balcony? I note it here so that someone can use the idea for their own backyard.
And we left at sunset. Sigh.
I dream about this place. Where do you dream about?
