There’s nothing like starting your day at a bridge from 3 BC. We drove to Pont Julien this morning to take in its 2,000+ year old grandeur. It’s still used as a pedestrian bridge and bike path, but cars no longer traverse it. It was originally part of the Via Domitia, a road connecting Italy to the Roman territories in France. The best place to get a photo is down below. Lola loved exploring here!

The village of the day is…Roussillon! Tucked away amongst tall pines and red cliffs is the town of Roussillon. Colorful buildings in all shades of red, yellow, pink, and orange come together to make this village the most vibrant of any we’ve seen so far. It honestly felt more Italian than French, and Paul said it might be his favorite village yet. The earth is red everywhere you look. Legend has it that a young woman, Dame Sermonde, threw herself from the cliff after her cold and inattentive husband served her the heart of her lover on a plate. Her blood colors the earth to this day.

Tragic love stories aside, we came to Roussillon for the market and to explore another Luberon village. Roussillon is quite popular, as the number of people increased the longer we spent here. But the market buzz just added to the ambience. We found a cafe for lunch that turned out to be one of the best lunches we’ve had here. I enjoyed a salad with fresh apples, tomatoes, and roquefort cheese. A small bottle of rosé and people watching rounded out our time here.

We spent the afternoon wine tasting around Bonnieux. The first was Château Isolette where we felt we were having wine in someone’s French country home. I wanted to transport the fireplace back to Amsterdam! The next stop was Château de Mille, the oldest château in Luberon. We just happened upon this one and it turned out to be an amazing experience. Exploring the grounds was like walking through an ancient village. The château dates from the 12th century. We finished our wine tasting at Cave de Bonnieux, where we tasted many wines from Luberon and Ventoux. At one point our server told us, “This is my father’s wine.” So naturally we had to bring some home.

Tonight we are dining in at the cottage. As I’m writing this, the evening breeze has just begun to blow. Lola is laying down at my feet and a cold glass of white wine is next to my keyboard. I think it’s time to turn in for the night.

Bonsoir et à demain!

xo – Erin