Friday


Ganges, Herault. A familiar town for me. A town I could - and often did - walk to from the Chateau of a warm afternoon, through the sweet-smelling garrigue, and the tall grass meadows, and the grape orchards. Sometimes, among the low hills between, you could hear the low clanking of sheep bells as a shepherd guided his flock through the rocky terrain nearby. Sometimes, in spring, I could hear that sound through the open shutters of my bedroom. I think that there is no more soothing sound...the distant clanking of sheep bells, combined with the scent of the lavender water with which my grandmother sprayed the egyptian cotton sheets.
I love this children-crossing sign...isn't it sweet? I'd put this on the wall of my daughter's nursery if I could.
Another marvellous sign. This, like so many of the little villages in the region, is a town suspended in another era, tranquil amid sun-sparked dust motes and the smell of crushed thyme.

4 comments:

jen laceda said...

You are so lucky to have stayed a such a lovely little town in France. Where is it exactly? I mean, which province / area?

The Wanderers' Daughter said...

Jen, this is Languedoc. Brissac (where my family lived) is about about 30 minutes inland from Montpellier. Ganges is just a five-minute drive from Brissac, and is the nearest town of any size.

jen laceda said...

I was in Montpellier long time ago (1996). if only I knew that 30 minutes away would take me here...

Kickcan and Conkers said...

Yep, I know Ganges comme ma poche, altho' I have to say that i don't really like it that much. A nic emarket...