I had a wobbly moment yesterday. I drank a too-strong coffee, set off late from my spot-in-a-field and a whole bunch of decision angst kicked in mid-route about where to head, where to sleep the night, along with some lost-in-translation WhatsApp moments with a French man. Plus…I stunk. I’ve not washed clothes in 10 days (and I’ve been wearing the same clothes for all 10 days). It’s a boundary I do like to push, but then I cross this boundary and I am, well, over it. I wound up landing into Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, a small village of 700 people with a labyrinth of one-way streets around dusk. It’s a bit fancy. Fancy people flock here because it’s been crowned prettiest place in in the country.
I found a miraculous park spot at the base of the village, walked up in my stinking hike gear, and had a wine and some olives in a back alleyway where the people were nice. I spotted some hills across the way and, as it got dark, headed in that direction to find myself a flat spot away from humanity. I point to it in the above video.
And here’s the view from said field this morning. Three sentences in. Robust start.
Last night I caught up on the Mathildas win and cried in my van reflecting on things. I reference two facts in the above. I’ve put some IG tile grabs below with the details.
One more day until I wash my clothes. Plus, I’ll share the details of the hikes, the stops, the villages and my campervan in an upcoming post.
Smell ya!
Sarah xx
