RB Pig Stye Chicken

Red Bikes (Won a month in France), Day 8

Somehow, Rooster convinced me to climb into a pigsty just outside the hilltop town of Gordes. That I did it and even smiled for the subsequent picture must mean I really am blindly in love with that man. The pigsty in question stands in Les Village des Bories, an ancient shepherd village built on solid rock and made up of a cluster of beehive shaped huts. These dwellings (or at least those built in a similar style) date back to the Bronze age but their architecture was mimicked throughout the Provencal region well into the 18th century.

One thing we figured out during our tour of these limestone huts was that, like us, the shepherds from back then really liked their wine. There are two wine storage caves in this 20-dwelling village. Considering how labor intensive it was to build any sort of structure out of rocks and without mortar, this group of hilltop sheep herders must have been truly dedicated to their “vin.” We decided we ought to pay homage to their dedication and get some vin ourselves and so off we went to Gordes.

The village of Gordes is built right into the rocky southern face of the Vaucluse plateau. Once there, we sat at a café and listened to a young man crooning French folk songs into a microphone in the main square and watched the people go by. There were a lot of people. Russell Crowe is filming a period piece in the town and perhaps the people were just there for him, but I can see why they might not be—Gordes is beautiful. Even walking around in the cellars under the city is a trip. We stumbled into a quiet “musee” under a merchant’s house and were able to walk around an old olive oil mill. The mill had been hewn straight into the rock and our guide informed us that the network of cellars in Gordes is extensive. When the town was a bustling place of commerce and not primarily a tourist destination, the network of cellars almost comprised a city unto itself.

Emerging into the blinking sunlight of the upper city, we promptly bought some olive oil of our own and headed home down the steep street that leads to Cabrieres. As we drove down the nearly vertical incline, we admired the dedicated bikers cycling up in the other direction and then gave thanks that we hadn’t tried to do such a crazy thing ourselves.