Garden of Vence, marvel of Provence (Nostradamus)
We went to the historic town of Vence yesterday (next to the famous St Paul de Vence village, one of the most beautiful villages in France) for H’s regular check-up. We were like walking down memory lane for this is where we used to live (1999-2002), in an apartment where 2 of the 4 exterior walls are lined with a long terrace where yours truly was responsible for making passers-by heads turning because of the flower display, and every square meter of that terrace was exploding with colourful blooms coming out from the upright, climbing and crawling plants practically covering the two-sided facade of our property.
No amount of manicured or immaculate gardens of Vienna, London or Paris could equal the ecstasy I feel everytime I see the chaotic charm of window garden displays of Provence (in France) and Liguria (in Italy). I don’t know why.