I keep going through my photo archives and finding photos I'd forgotten about, of trips I'd (almost) forgotten I'd taken. My thought process goes something like (in the words of adorable nephew #1), 'know dat? Oh yeah. France.' Or in the case of these photos, 'know dat? Oh yeah. Moulin.'
The French writer Alphonse Daudet (1840 - 1897) wrote a series of short stories called Lettres de Mon Moulin. Daudet did spend time in a windmill in Provence, but the stories are definitely fiction - and very funny!
In June I went on a literary pilgrimage to Fontvieille, a small town about 8km from Les Baux de Provence. Just outside Fontvieille you can find what's called 'Le Moulin de Daudet' - not the windmill where he lived (that's now a ruin, though you can walk to what's left of it), but a mill he featured in several of his stories.
The mill and the views are gorgeous and, as I discovered, it's a very pleasant place to sit and eat apricots, fresh from the market. The only thing I regretted was not having my copy of Lettres de Mon Moulin with me to read under the pines. I could probably have found it in the town, but it just seemed like too much effort to leave my perch ... however, my hint to you is: go on a sunny day, bring a book, buy a picnic at the market in Fontvieille and bask under the shade of the sails. Repeat as necessary.
The French writer Alphonse Daudet (1840 - 1897) wrote a series of short stories called Lettres de Mon Moulin. Daudet did spend time in a windmill in Provence, but the stories are definitely fiction - and very funny!
In June I went on a literary pilgrimage to Fontvieille, a small town about 8km from Les Baux de Provence. Just outside Fontvieille you can find what's called 'Le Moulin de Daudet' - not the windmill where he lived (that's now a ruin, though you can walk to what's left of it), but a mill he featured in several of his stories.
The mill and the views are gorgeous and, as I discovered, it's a very pleasant place to sit and eat apricots, fresh from the market. The only thing I regretted was not having my copy of Lettres de Mon Moulin with me to read under the pines. I could probably have found it in the town, but it just seemed like too much effort to leave my perch ... however, my hint to you is: go on a sunny day, bring a book, buy a picnic at the market in Fontvieille and bask under the shade of the sails. Repeat as necessary.
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