Cassis, Virginia Woolf’s English Dream

From the late 1920s, the Côte d’Azur became a refuge and source of inspiration for British and American writers.

The air is crisp this morning. In the Gulf of Cassis, the teasing mistral rustles the trees and the sun burns at its peak. Everything turns blue. Where does the sky begin and where does the sea end? The red, green and white shutters are drawn and the city is sweating. On the way to the lighthouse, a few passers-by saunter by, while others, near the statue of Frédéric Mistral, watch ships go out like sparks in the distance. It sizzles, splashes, and we hear the clinking of cups on the terrace. “There were rocks. After breakfast we would sit there in the sun…” All these make for sweet music. At higher altitudes, the air becomes drier. “We’ll go for a walk, straight up the slope to the woods…” Low walls separate the road from the villas. “Red, jagged tulips were in full bloom…