Thursday, June 21, 2012
After breakfast of croissants and coffee, I explore Collobrieres. Around every corner I gasp at huge, medieval wooden doors, thick wrought iron gates, lavender gardens. I meander down side streets no wider than ten feet. Red geraniums sit in window boxes, aged wooden shutters lie against rough walls painted in blues, yellows and greens. I happen down a narrow side street and find a memorial of flowers in a doorway.