The Serene Village of Stone

by Sharon

This village, besieged during the wars of religion from 1562-1598, and again in World War II has transformed into a serene vacationer and jovial artist haven.

I watch a group of student artists with their easels and brushes paint on the nearby curb. Enchanted by the delicate brush strokes as it graces the canvas, I sit enjoying my plate of tomato and basil tagliatelle. The bistro sits on the outer edge of the perched village of Gordes offering an undisturbed view of the Luberon valley in Southern France. There is nothing to disrupt the skyline as all the electricity and telephone cables have been put underground.'

I see a mosaic of deep rich earth tones. The red clay colour of the soil mixed with the deep green of the olive trees and the mustard yellow and dull orange of the fall fauna. A light breeze is sweeping over the rows of rosemary and thyme plants.

This village, besieged during the wars of religion from 1562-1598, and again in World War II has transformed into a serene vacationer and jovial artist's haven. The area has been home to many great artists, including Picasso, Renoir, Matisse and Van Gogh. The picturesque setting mired with colour would be an ideal muse for anyone.

Gordes is a village made of stone. For starters, a winding road lined with dry-stone walls leads to this hilltop town. All the buildings in Gordes are made out of white, beige or honey-coloured stone with terracotta clay tile roofs. No fences are allowed, only stone walls. The calades -the Provenal name for cobblestone streets are made from stones fetched in the nearby rivers.

This labyrinthal village of stone, built to thwart invasions in Roman Gaul times is now a tourist hotspot. Gordes was an oppidum - Latin for the main settlement in any administrative area of the Roman Empire and a border town. As a result, Gordes has lived on a defensive mode, as evidenced by the austere exterior of the village. Carved into the cliff side, the stone rock buildings appear jagged and harsh from the outside. At the summit of the hilltop village sits an imposing medieval castle, flanked by four round machicolated towers bearing terraces for artillery. This castle once served as a fortress, but today it houses the tourist information office and the Pol Mara museum - showcasing the contemporary art of the Flemish painter of the same name.

After my bistro lunch, I meandered through the narrow stone alleyways and gazed up at the houses that surround me on both sides. Many of the homes have been pristinely restored with period archways and doorways. Vines trail along the house wall framing doors and windows. Almost every window is adorned with blue or green shutters and manicured flowerpots sitting on display. I passed young couples sitting in the outdoor patios of two side-by-side café and old friends chatting on a bench outside the pharmacy. There are no supermarkets but lots of specialty stores for specific items as well as bakeries and meat shops.

Rushing does not seem to exist here and unlike 400 hundred years ago, today there is nothing combative about this place. Other than a slightly stern outer rock face, it is hard to believe that this place was once a border town built on defending itself against invasions. As the day fades into twilight, I watch as the stone buildings change colour. Under the direct sunlight, the stone reflects a warm golden colour which shifts to a faint yellow and finally a dull grey-white as the sun disappears.

I walked into a small souvenir shop selling Provençal pottery crafts, lavender lotions, freshly grown rosemary and paintings of the enamoring town. Though, I have never picked up a paintbrush since elementary school, I am inspired to take a painting class in Provence.