Les Gorgeous de Verdon- Sorry, I Mean Les Gorges..

There are 27 different regions in France that are somewhat comparable to counties in America. In 2012 I lived in Montpellier, in the region of Languedoc-Roussillon, also known as the wine region. I’m currently living in a region in the southeast of France called the Var, close to the Mediterranean Sea. While we don’t live on the waterfront (or in a van, down by the river), there are a lot of enriching activities to do in this area. This region is also very different from Languedoc-Roussillon. Around Montpellier, every open space is used for vineyards. The Var has some vineyards, but you also find a lot of mountains, like the Montagne Noire.

Unlike the sunny Côte d’Azur, there was a lot of fog, trees with changing leaves, and it was very chilly in the mountains. In fact, it reminded me a lot of New York! Unfortunately, there aren’t that many forests in this area. Mainly you find a lot of limestone and quartz foundations. The first time I really saw these massive limestone mountains was a week ago, when Lauren and I visited les Gorges du Verdon with our friend Mark and his parents.

Mark’s parents were extremely kind and offered to drive us about an hour outside of Draguignan to see one of this region’s main attractions, les Gorges. I really didn’t know what to expect as we made our way through the winding roads and hairpin turns, steadily gaining altitude. Our first stop was in the little medieval town of Trigance that perches on top of a mountain and overlooks a beautiful valley. The city is so old, in fact, that you have to walk through it because the roads are too small to handle the amount of cars tourists would bring! Needless to say, I fell in love with it instantly: the cobblestone roads, the ivy covering the walls of ancient houses, the castle with its flag rippling in the wind, the breathtaking scenery, not to mention the fairly cheap but delicious coffee and tea we shared at a café! Everything about this village is enchanting. You half-expect a knight to ride up the pebbly road to the castle at any second.

After a cup of tea we headed towards les Gorges de Verdon, the huge limestone formations divided by the Verdon River. Put it this way: its nickname is “the Grand Canyon of France.” While I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon, I will say this landscape reminded me more of America than anything I’ve seen yet in France. I distinctly remember feeling that for the first time, the space was open. I felt small. As we watched the mountains climb up on either side of us, we pulled the car over and walked along the side of the road, gazing down at the river and marveling at the mountains around us. It was incredible.

As we continued our way through the mountains, we stopped at Aiguines for a bite to eat, and then found the most beautiful village I’ve ever seen: Moustiers-Ste-Marie. If you ever, ever visit France, you MUST visit this village. Unlike Trigance, which perches on top of a cliff, Moustiers-Ste-Marie is nestled in a valley surrounded by towering rock formations and full of sunshine. The cobblestone streets are lined by brightly colored buildings, overgrown with ivy that changes from green to deep red in the autumn. Artisan shops filled with pottery, soaps, herbs, and gelato beckon you from every corne. A sparkling stream descends from the mountains, dividing the town in two, complete with a little waterfall overlooked by a café.

Lauren and I happened to get separated from Mark and his parents, but that was okay because we stumbled upon the greatest discovery of the day. We found a set of stairs and began to climb them, assuming the others had done the same. When I say stairs, I really mean huge chunks of rock that had been chiseled to form very rough, steep, and gravelly steps. We climbed up and up until we reached a little plateau that featured a shrine to the Virgin Mary set behind wrought iron bars and one, single tree that stood out against the setting sun. We continued climbing and finally, when we could take no more, we stopped to gaze upon the incredible view spread before us: we could see mountains surrounding us, the Lac St. Croix in the distance, and the little stream trickling through the village of Moustiers-Ste-Marie all painted in breathtaking colors. Because the sun was setting, the entire valley was illuminated in golds, oranges, dusky rose, and a hint of blue here and there. All the colors of the autumn I’m missing found me on top of that mountain top, during that sunset in France.