In our early 20s it occurred to us that we were very fond of the southern French “mode de vie” (engl. Way of life)

It’s just a little bit different there compared to home.

We initially came to Bélesta because of the winegrowers’ cooperative: the wine guide wrote something about deeply red wine with flavors of cherries and a hint of black pepper.

Then we noticed the snow-covered Canigou towering behind blooming poppies. And again, and again these dilapidated stone huts. Couldn’t we rebuild such a “Casot”?

That’s how it all started. Oh yes, and we wouldn’t be kicked off the campground anymore if we were having a good time in these hills here…

We wanted to get settled in the Midi. Thought we knew how to take it easy. Then we got to know our neighbors in the garrigue. They turned out to be professionals from whom you could learn how to live and let live. That’s what people call “tranquilité” around here.

I always thought that Vladimir Kaminer and Charles Bukowski exaggerated their description of exuberant madness, that Peter Mayle’s tales from late 80s Provence couldn’t be true and that Salvador Dalí happened to locate the center of the world at Perpignan train station only by chance. Not even close! Now I know the folks around the southernmost villages in France and I very much enjoy their sympathetic craziness.

Welcome to the region where everything is a little different!