Rain they take as a personal affront, shaking their heads and commiserating with each other in the cafés, looking with profound suspicion at the sky as though a plague of locusts is about to descend, and picking their way with distaste through the puddles on the pavement. ~Peter Mayle from A Year in Provence
It rained the entire time I was in Provence.
Provence was sort of a lonely place to begin my travels. For one, I didn’t see a single other solo traveler let alone anyone within 20 years of my age. I pretty much spent my days wandering around the different stone villages of the Luberon, ducking into cafes when the rain got too heavy and retiring early to my Airbnb apartment early with a bottle of red and some cheese.
I became fascinated with the doors and the windows of Provence mostly because it was so cloudy and rainy I couldn’t see much else. The villages looked like paintings and I couldn’t believe anyone actually lived behind these works of art.