Walking the dragon spine: La Citadelle, Sisteron

Upper ramparts of the Citadel of Sisteron

Glorously perched between heaven and rock, with the orange and red Sisteron flags flying in the ever-present wind, this walkway was exhilarating. 

The rock around which the citadel is shaped has a forever history as a fortified place, its been badly treated in every era but is now lovingly restored, cared for and valued by its town. 

It was a privilege to walk and enjoy the space.

Impressive bastion walls

Rocher de la Baume: Sisteron

Rocher de la Baume, Sisteron

We have started our slow return road trip north and leaving the light, warmth and sparkle of the Med yesterday felt harder when we arrived to the cooler windy weather here in Sisteron and had to resettle into a new space and find our feet again. 

The drive through the Alps-de-Haute-Provence had been a treat with it's a pared back colour palate of muted dry greens and greys, the lavender fields have been harvested and are resting. 

This part of France has a remarkable geological history and too complicated to even begin to remember, so I just look in awe. No wonder this is a UNESCO Geoparc. 

I had decided on Sisteron as a stop-over because of its natural beauty and remarkable 4000 years of history.

As we walked into town from our accommodation the Baume Rock slowly came into view, with the Durance River at its base and the formation of the gorge with the Citadel Rock on the opposite bank. 

The sun came out and we felt lighter, invigorated and ready for whatever the day held for us. 

The power of nature worked its magic.

 

The gorge of Sisteron, historical gateway into Provence.

Ile flottante revisited: Sisteron

A postcard home dated 9/5/87.
A farm-stay in Longueville with the Leroy family.
Their kindness and their hospitality has stayed with me for over 35 years.

It's still amazing and still too delicious

Pillowy airy poached French meringues floating on a bed of velvety ice-cold creme anglaise drizzled with a trickle of caramel and a few toasted almonds. The magic of a French dessert called floating islands or Iles Flottantes. 

And for me, this dessert takes me straight back to one of my favourite memories of living here in France in the mid 80's. 

I have only had this dessert once before and it was in Normandy when our farm-stay host, Mme Leroy, invited our little family to stay on and join them for Sunday lunch. 

I write home to my mother about our weekend experiences on the farm and how French life revolves around mealtimes and how exciting it was for us to witness their lives. 

In my letter below I give the details of that Sunday lunch and its 'amazing' dessert. And here I am, in the town of Sisteron, completely delighted to have finished our Sunday lunch with this dessert that comes with layers of feelings and meaning.

A letter to my Mom in the mid 80's when we lived in Paris, all about a French Sunday lunch.