Photo post: Villefranche sur Mer
Oct. 21st, 2013 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
highlyeccentricI believe these photos were all taken by Dr J, as 1. there are more than usual of me and 2. I think we only took the crappiest of our collective cameras, having plans (which went unfulfilled due to Amy getting heat-cranky) to go swimming.
Welcome to Villefranche sur Mer, one train stop away from Beaulieu sur Mer. The two towns share certain commonalities, starting with FREAKIN RIDICULOUS SCENERY WHAT THE HELL. Villefranche seems a bit more keen on coloured houses, though.
Angevins. They get everywhere.
A historical laundry! Apparently washwater ran into these tubs and then out again down through the old town to the harbour. (19th century, I think)
The old town is delightfully steep and curly, and its, er, lowlight is definitely the Rue Obscure, a covered street which dates to the late 13th century.
Medieval doorways, non-medieval doors, and medievalist in situ.
Occasional lightwells to break up the obscurity.
Obscurity comes to an end eventually.
Dr J and I spent much of the week squabbling pointlessly over what the secondary dialect on the signs might be. I was in favour of either Italian or Provencal, reasoning that neither of us were fluent in either language and couldn't rule them out. Or not until we saw Italian, French AND this dialect all on one sign. Dr J was mostly angry at the existence of something he didn't know about, but generally favoured Sardinian. I have since discovered the existence of Nicard, which would be the culprit.
THAT SCENERY. STILL DOIN' IT.
Houses, pretty; streets, curly.
Lunch: FANTASTIC. Duckie! I hadn't eaten duck before except in Chinese dishes. HOM NOM NOM. Leaves chinese-style duck in the dust.
Church (16th c) refurbished by Jean Cocteau in 1957.
Then we climbed up and around the whole fortress in the sun, and the museum failed to open as promised after siesta time anyway.
Looking around the bay, along the fortress wall.
Cool rocks!
More gosh-darned scenery.
Fortress to the rear.
I need to stop leaning away from the camera when my photo's being taken, it seems. Unflattering though the angle may be, observe the fisherman's pants which Kayloulee brought back from the north coast for me. BEST SUMMER GARMENT EVER.
We wondered if this might be a moat, but it's open to the sea and above sea level. Just a giant ditch for landward defence.
The purpose of these narrow arches was also a subject of much debate. Too narrow for structural use, we thought. I thought decorative / intimidating, Dr J wants to believe those shingles cover a pipe bringing water from the hills.
Beyond this point, only art galleries are open! The museum, which promised us miniature medieval figures, failed to deliver or even open doors.
Fortress from below.
Welcome to Villefranche sur Mer, one train stop away from Beaulieu sur Mer. The two towns share certain commonalities, starting with FREAKIN RIDICULOUS SCENERY WHAT THE HELL. Villefranche seems a bit more keen on coloured houses, though.
Angevins. They get everywhere.
A historical laundry! Apparently washwater ran into these tubs and then out again down through the old town to the harbour. (19th century, I think)
The old town is delightfully steep and curly, and its, er, lowlight is definitely the Rue Obscure, a covered street which dates to the late 13th century.
Medieval doorways, non-medieval doors, and medievalist in situ.
Occasional lightwells to break up the obscurity.
Obscurity comes to an end eventually.
Dr J and I spent much of the week squabbling pointlessly over what the secondary dialect on the signs might be. I was in favour of either Italian or Provencal, reasoning that neither of us were fluent in either language and couldn't rule them out. Or not until we saw Italian, French AND this dialect all on one sign. Dr J was mostly angry at the existence of something he didn't know about, but generally favoured Sardinian. I have since discovered the existence of Nicard, which would be the culprit.
THAT SCENERY. STILL DOIN' IT.
Houses, pretty; streets, curly.
Lunch: FANTASTIC. Duckie! I hadn't eaten duck before except in Chinese dishes. HOM NOM NOM. Leaves chinese-style duck in the dust.
Church (16th c) refurbished by Jean Cocteau in 1957.
Then we climbed up and around the whole fortress in the sun, and the museum failed to open as promised after siesta time anyway.
Looking around the bay, along the fortress wall.
Cool rocks!
More gosh-darned scenery.
Fortress to the rear.
I need to stop leaning away from the camera when my photo's being taken, it seems. Unflattering though the angle may be, observe the fisherman's pants which Kayloulee brought back from the north coast for me. BEST SUMMER GARMENT EVER.
We wondered if this might be a moat, but it's open to the sea and above sea level. Just a giant ditch for landward defence.
The purpose of these narrow arches was also a subject of much debate. Too narrow for structural use, we thought. I thought decorative / intimidating, Dr J wants to believe those shingles cover a pipe bringing water from the hills.
Beyond this point, only art galleries are open! The museum, which promised us miniature medieval figures, failed to deliver or even open doors.
Fortress from below.