purple haze

DSCF8547

DSCF8556

DSCF8545

Although no succubus I must have absorbed Dylan’s strength in my sleep, for in the morning I felt the strongest and freshest I had all trip, Dylan was a hollowed out husk of sleeplessness.

We departed Cheval-blanc with a gift of a lavender posy stuck into my handlebars, the relaxing aroma drifting up with every bump.

It is a credit to our relationship that Dylan humoured my ride up hill and down dale through the towns of Provence (8 in total that day). And more so that I ignored his foul mood that slowly dissipated with the clouds. But let me tell you they were thick and dark that morning! The grey Sunday leaving roads practically deserted save us and the occasional cat that, spooked, scuttled across our path. The towns carved into the mountain appeared ruinous with their desertion, we supposed inhabitants were holed up in churches. There was something spectacular about their apparent isolation, it must have been a real labour of love to build them perched up their in the clouds. They were part of the landscape as no steel and glass edifice could ever be.

DSCF8549

DSCF8553

DSCF8558

DSCF8571

DSCF8585

DSCF8576

DSCF8578

DSCF8581

DSCF8583

DSCF8582

You may also like

2 Comments

Leave a Reply