Saint Guilhem le Desert

No, that's not a disease, nor a dish. It is the name of the village we visited on Sunday (the fucked up chronology continues!). It's only ten minutes from Aniane. We walked around and just gazed in marvel at the cozy buildings, narrow streets and the Gellone river, which pretty much runs through the whole place. I think I'll let the pictures do the talking from now on (all of 'em can be found here).

The village square. Several restaurants surround it. Service is slow, but it's worth it just to sit here and people-watch for an hour or two.


This sandwich was the size of my underarm. I had to admit defeat in order to have room for the ice cream later on.


There were ruins of buildings at the very top. I get dizzy just thinking about it.


Sho, sho cozhy...


In my imagination, a hobbit lives behind this door.


If, on the other hand, hobbits lived on the second floor, he would live here:


The monastery has its own vinyard... this sure ain't Norway.


This is how I prefer my religion - locked up.


The river Gellone runs under the effin city hall.


It also provides water to the numerous drinking fountains that can be found all over the village. My guess is that in earlier days, this was the city's sewer system.


In a slowmoving part of the river, they had fish. Lots and lots of fish.


Of course, this wouldn't be France unless people behaved like animals.


Pont Diable. One of fuck knows how many in France. There are several alternative versions of how this bridge came into being. I think it was built around 1030. The surrounding area is the preferred bathing place for the local populace.


These little fuckers can be heard all over Italy and the south of France. They play incessantly and loudly.