Guestbook Comment
Review Submitted: July 19, 2005
Date of Stay: July 2005
Visiting the hilltop village of Grambois was a dream I have had since I saw La Gloire de mon père at a film festival in South Africa years ago. The enchanting film captured the magic of Marcel Pagnol's Provence for me, and I dreamt of one day walking across the village square, where, in the film, the men of the village played boules. I imagined, though, that Grambois would be festooned with the flotsam of the film: postcard shops, curio shops and video-toting tourists. How magic then, to discover that the village is still the lowkey, unchartered timewarp it is in the film. The only time benchmarks of the lapsed years being the parked motorcars on the now-tarred square. There is still one bakery,one store, one café on the square, just a quarter mile down the road from 'L'Oratoire de St. Christol'. And now I dream of revisting this old stone house one day, a house that exudes character and echoes of a myriad,langorous family summers by the pool, to write a novel, humbly dogging the heels of the master, Marcel Pagnol.
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