The narrow village paths, lined with colourful restaurants and intricate bouquets adorning the decaying medieval walls, straddled the river meandering through the centre of this picturesque town nestled at the footsteps of the Alps. The surrounding landscape, comprising a ring of forested mountains and complemented by a crystal clear lake embraced this medieval paradise. This archaic town, lined with cobblestone streets, ramparts, archaic castles and cathedrals from the medieval and renaissance periods was truly fascinating to behold. Exotic buildings and streets with colourful facades, magnificent cathedrals and richly decorated buildings connected by secret passageways plunges one literally into the tales and story books of ones childhood. I stood in a silent reverie as flamboyant characters such as Molière and D’Artagnan suddenly come to life.

The narrow street widened into a wide thoroughfare to my delight; I was now able to gaze upon a delightful scene. A radiant yellow window decorated with blue wooden panes set against red bouquets of flowers adorning window sills, contrasted brilliantly with the sandstone coloured archaic wall and blue tinged cobble stone street. I stood admiring this most beautiful facade resplendent with such simple yet beautifully blended colours. Looking about in childlike wonder I thought “What would it have been like to have lived so long ago in a town such as this?”. My thoughts deep in reverie, a gentle smile slowly crept across my face as I pondered one of my favourite characters; D’Artagnan from The Three Musketeers, walking down a street such as this in his swashbuckling style, an air of bravado, the hallmark of a proud and fiery young Gascon in the prime of his life.

The main road skirting the periphery of the town meandered suddenly into a narrow street. Turning down an ancient cobblestone pathway, my eyes widened in wonder as I gazed upon a delightful scene, a moment in time that plunged me back into an era centuries ago. An archaic building with a crumbling facade of earthly hues commanded my attention. The golden sandstone with its decaying wooden shutters and doorways, contrasted brilliantly with the blue tinged cobble stone street displaying a mosaic of classical beauty. I stood admiring this most beautiful facade resplendent with such simple, beautifully blended colours. A pang of nostalgia gripped my heart for a life that I had merely glimpsed from stories bequeathed from past generations and cherished conversations with elderly townsfolk only too eager to relate their experiences of joy mixed with suffering and sorrow. The buildings were merely an extension of the human experience I thought to myself. This crumbling facade merely reflected the fortitude of the human spirit during times of adversity; it’s ability to endure all things and still manifest something of beauty.