It's actually really noisy living in a little old village like this, but rather comforting once you get used to it. All the are house are cheek by jowl and you can hear everyong going about their daily business in quite clear detail. Someone next door plays the guitar every lunchtime - rather well I might add - which makes a nice daily accompaniment to one's midday repast.
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| The church... and it's bell tower |
It all kicks off quite early. The church in mid-town starts it's bells at 7am with a pealing rendition to get the day started, which then repeats at 7.05am just in case you didn't hear it the first time. Once you realise you're awake and it's still only 7.06am, you then hear all the doves who clearly have also just been woken up, cooing away from their various perches among the rooftops.
And then there're the evening swallows. They gather at dusk and have a might time swooping about in great flocks above the old town - I'm sure if the buildings weren't two or three stories high and the alleys weren't so narrow, they'd make a speciality of dive bombing people.
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| The alley steps leading up to my atelier |
My favourite time of the day is just after it gets dark between 9 and 10pm when the swallows have stopped, and the sun has just gone down and the town settles into relaxation mode. The bars and restaurants provide a companion-able background hum to the live music that floats up the hill from the bars, occasionally punctuated with the dinner noises of clinking glasses and cutlery on crockery from the surrounding houses.
Bon nuit.
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