How easily I could slip back into my sleepy Provence, to a village called Vers, next to the Roman aqueduct I used to swim under, near the medieval town of Uzès where my mother bought our vegetables, in a garden where an imagination could run wild. I’ll find my way back, with silver hair and the
wrinkles of time. But for now, I’ll settle for weekends here and there. Forget the Provence of souvenir shops and crowded lavender photo shoots. This is the Provence of village squares shaded by plane trees, market mornings, long lunches and antique hunting under the southern sun…
📍 Maison de la Bourgade
31 Rue de la République, 30700 Uzès
