title. Contrasts in the Countryside

date. July 2015

destination. South of France

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The best part of France for me was not the big cities, monuments, or churches, but rather the parts in between.

My family and I travelled through the south of France for a week in the summer of 2015. We knew there was a lot to see and that the best way to hit all the sights was to rent a car and drive ourselves around rather than doing transportation by trains or bus tours. This decision was probably one of the best we made that summer. As much as I don’t love road trips (the smell of feet, the cramped space, and the sheer proximity/unavoidability of your whole family for hours on end) I still cannot deny that there is no better way to experience the south of France than along its windy country roads. (Maybe next time I’ll go alone and get a convertible instead.)

 

The countryside in the south of France harmonically combines elements of urban and rural. In my opinion, the breathtaking beauty of these lands has not been diminished by human presence, but rather enhanced by it. The farmers and winemakers of this countryside are fully dedicated to the up keep of these awe-inspiring horizons. They work tirelessly grooming and trimming the wild French terrain they live on so as not to ruin it’s wild nature but rather enhance its allure. This is their livelihood and they fully dedicate themselves to it.

The scenery in this area is filled with beautiful contrasts. Contrasts in both colour and terrain. The beautiful blue sky’s would contrast beautifully with the coppery roofs of the farm houses. The rugged edges of the Pyrenees Mountains would contrast with the flat fields of farms and vineyards. The gigantic yellow sunflowers contrasted with the wild purple flowers of the lavender plants. And one day the endless green fields contrasted amazingly with the blood red light of a dying sun.

The best part was that these countryside’s were not limited to just pleasuring the eyes, they would play with all the senses in new and exciting ways.

Rolling down the windows you could smell the lavender fields before you even saw them. Large wafts of a faint sweet, floral yet herbal fragrance would flood the car and tell you what was to come (it was also a great way to clean the car of my brothers foul feet odour). Also there was the earthy smell you would get at vineyards and even the smell of fresh cut grass. There was always something for your nose to smell, and usually it was pleasant, I promise.

As well, there was the taste. Going along these roads we came across fruit stands, small shops or bakeries, and many many vineyards. The freshness of it all and the decadence of the food could tingle your tongue in so many ways. The sweetness of fresh grapes, figs, oranges, and pears. The creamy taste of French cheese made locally or warm bread from a family shop. And everything was always with wine. I’m a foodie so I cannot deny that this was my favourite part.

The hidden treasure I discovered in France was surprisingly not a destination, but rather a lesson on how to enjoy the journey getting there.