Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Ferme la Reboul Cappeau

For all that I pretty much despised our campsite at Avignon,  its proximity to an excellent farm nearly made up for the noisy hotel. 

Only about half a mile away was a little bit of paradise. 

I sent Bill exploring on his bike.

He came back with such lush food and picturesque descriptions that I had to go see for myself.

Initially all I saw was gorgeous fruit and veg, cheeses and sausages - and the lovely dog. 

On our next trip I noticed the farm house, the proprietary cat (is there any other kind?), 

the view of Avignon just over the river.


I decided I didn't just want their produce, I probably wanted their whole life. 

Those are chickens out there beyond that bicycle.

I'm sure it is far more work than I would be prepared to take on at this stage,

but it all looks so appealing, so incredibly ... French.


Beryl said...

How lovely! I wonder how old that farmhouse is? The pictures of their produce makes me hungry.

Shelley said...

I found myself loving the sun-faded paint on the shutters, something that in the States used to drive me nuts. France just does that to a person.