jello, jello, jello

So we were in a little village called Uze in southern France, Provence about 45 minutes south of Orange. We went there because there was a real castle. Now in the south of France, there were not many castles. In the north of France, there were castles everywhere, we had our pick of what we wanted to see and of course we didn’t. Now we wanted to see a castle so off we went on a little jaunt on our way back from Nimes. We arrived just in time for an espresso before walking into the castle – it was closed, open again in 1 hour. The one hour extended to two hours so we walked and walked some more along narrow streets, back alleys. There really wasn’t that much to see in Uze. Finally it was time, we eagerly lined up outside the gate – all 10 of us. Oops the only thing open right now is the turret as the tour of ‘the castle’ would not take place for another 45 minutes. So off and up we went. The stairs, all 212 of them were circular, narrow on one end and even narrower on the other. Going up was okay and the view was pretty good being a nice day and all. But coming down, oh my oh my. By the time we hit the bottom, our legs were jello, not a bone left in them and no place to sit down. The photo was taken during the inside tour but that story will have to wait until tomorrow.

Flickr : France, Provence, Uze, castle, museum