A Year in Provence

One genre I enjoy reading (with a bit of guilt) is travel writing.  I really like discovering the details of daily life in a place from the point of view of someone who is new or newish to that place.  Details that are striking and interesting to a stranger or visitor might feel obvious or not-worthy-of-notice to someone living in a place their whole life.  It's interesting to compare daily rituals and habits, where and when people socialize, the markers of different parts of the day, how time is spent, and how people interact with their surroundings.

A year in Provence, by Peter Mayle, chronicles a British couple's first year in Provence, living in and trying to restore an old stone farmhouse set on the edge of a large national forest.

"At one end of the market, a van from the wine cooperative was surrounded by men rinsing their teeth thoughtfully in the new rosé.  Next to them, a woman was selling free-range eggs and live rabbits, and beyond her the tables were piled high with vegetables, small and fragrant bushes of basil, tubs of lavender honey, great green bottles of first pressing olive oil, trays of hot-house peaches, pots of black tapenade, flowers and herbs, jams and cheeses--everything looked so delicious in the early morning sun.
We bought red peppers to roast and big brown eggs and basil and peaches and goat's cheese and lettuce and pink-streaked onions.  And, when the basket could hold no more, we went across the road to buy half a yard of bread--the gros pain that makes such a tasty mop for any olive oil or vinaigrette sauce that is left on the plate. The bakery was crowded and noisy, and smelled of warm dough and the almonds that had gone into the morning's cakes."

The copy I have was previously in the library of Ann Hershey Byerly, as indicated by the large personalized embossed stamp.



The book is divided into chapters based on the months of the year with illustrations for each one. So far, I'm up to September.