Boom · 6 November 2002
To get from here (right here, where I am right now) to the road leading south to Montpellier, one must traverse a not insignificant stretch of hills via a road that is well maintained but narrow, at both ends of which one will find hairpin turns and steep inclines (the little red-haired kid’s tendency to carsickness can be a factor in negotiating these turns).
At the other end (that is to say, on the other side of the hills from where I am right now, right here) there lies, at the conclusion of a series of sharp turns, a point where the view from the road just sort of bursts open, and at once one’s eye is met with rolling green hillside (flecked, at this time of year, with gold and fire), framed on either side by sharp hillsides, with the menacingly graceful Pic St Loup as its backdrop.
It is awesome. Truly, this view has been art directed on a grand scale: budget no object, die-cuts and spot lam, gold foil and tip-ins.
Of late turning the corner has become value-added. Multimedia. I have found the exact spot on the road to punch Play on the car stereo so that I turn the corner exactly 0:56 into Enter Sandman by Metallica.
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