Ria and I headed today to Roussillion, a perched village next to a former ochre mine. The mining area has been preserved as a national park, with beautiful sandy trails winding through ochre outcroppings and sparse forests. We had a wonderful time there, even though it was baking hot. I chatted with a couple from just outside Paris whose son attends Berkeley; their French is so much easier to understand than the locals, as the Provencal accent is very thick and undistinguished. Ria played in the beautiful, colorful sand, and by the end of our hour-long walk, was colorful herself, as shown below.
The town of Rousillion is very pretty, up high on a ridge and made of local stone. It is therefore much more red than most local towns, and against the verdant green of the agriculture in the valley, it is just stunning. There is a veneer of tourism that is not surprising to find but always a shade disappointing, despite being tourists ourselves. We like to think we're special, but we're really not.
This was one of Ria's favorite destinations, and we hope to come back -- appropriately dressed -- when it's pouring rain to see if the ochre hills and trails look appreciably different.
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