Market Day. As promised, my love took me to the medieval town of Forcalquier, which dates back to the times of Roman occupation when the trade route via Italy and Spain once flourished from the 10th through 16th centuries. Perched atop a steep hill, the town has seen thousands of years of inhabitants come and go. The one thing that never changes is its awe-inspiring view. From the far distance, one can see the ancient remnants perched atop a steep hill, its magical presence, stirring a curious fascination. As the outline of old buildings become clearer and one can get caught up with the immediate sense of nostalgia. It seems in Forcalquier that time has stood still.
Once we had arrived, as with everywhere else in France, you’ve got to find a place to park and walk. Being that it’s market day, that created a challenge. Leave it to Steph to find a solution. He took a winding route to the top of Forcalquier and we managed to find a spot near Note Dame de Provence, the old chapel and where the Citadel once stood. From there we walked down hill until we found an open cobblestone corridor that led down to the center of town.
The walk was a chilly one, and I reminded myself, posing the question … why the Hell did you choose the coldest part of Winter to visit France? The walk itself was exerting, and by the time we reached the heart of the town, I had warmed up plenty. We stopped at a nearby bistro, sat down for my coffee and my love, his beer. The market thrived all around us, and being eager, and ready to explore we finished our little tête-à-tête and took another walk. Olives, Cheese, Bread, Wine, Meats, Fruits & Vegetables … there was so much to see. Our visit to Forcalquier was somewhat short but I did get a promise that we’d go back. I know that in the near future that market day in the mornings will be a very special treat for me.