Sharp eyed patrons of my singular drivel will note that the accent in Piégon is correct this time, an acute rather than a grave. No? Stay alert there! Those of my patrons who claim to be au-fait with the language (if there are any, which I doubt) must have had sleepless nights over my earlier Piègon post when it should have been Piégon. Frankly this accent business has become so acute it’s driving me to an early grave.
See what I did there?
Anyway, Piégon is a village we first stumbled into with the son-and heir some years ago, in searing heat I seem to recall. It has a seriously bad rock carving as its centrepiece, so bad in fact it’s good. Like those concrete hands at Beaumes-de Venise. We noted that rain is washing away this artistic enterprise gradually, in places anyway.
But look here, if you want chapter-and-verse on Piégon you can go on line and read it up, I’m no travel writer as I am sure you will have concluded long before now… or anything else much, I expect you are muttering, if you’ve got to this point… But interestingly, this village got tired of being up a steep hill and decided to relocate itself about 100 metres lower down. Which is why it has (or had, for a short time) two churches, the upper one being in ruins these days, like the rest of the abandoned Piégon — but with a well maintained clock tower that chimes out the hours, at the appropriate time and interval.
See what I did there?
Anyway, Piégon is a village we first stumbled into with the son-and heir some years ago, in searing heat I seem to recall. It has a seriously bad rock carving as its centrepiece, so bad in fact it’s good. Like those concrete hands at Beaumes-de Venise. We noted that rain is washing away this artistic enterprise gradually, in places anyway.
But look here, if you want chapter-and-verse on Piégon you can go on line and read it up, I’m no travel writer as I am sure you will have concluded long before now… or anything else much, I expect you are muttering, if you’ve got to this point… But interestingly, this village got tired of being up a steep hill and decided to relocate itself about 100 metres lower down. Which is why it has (or had, for a short time) two churches, the upper one being in ruins these days, like the rest of the abandoned Piégon — but with a well maintained clock tower that chimes out the hours, at the appropriate time and interval.
Sorry about the dead poplar, dead centre in the view below: I tried to skirt round it but to no avail: try to live with it will you?
