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May 12, 2009
Photos from France.
As I was wandering through Lourmarin, a ridiculously charming Provencal town where a bustling Friday-morning market was in full swing--the fresh breeze carrying the smell of cured sausage and fresh baguettes to my nostrils--I began having fantasies. Mostly it involved never being heard from again, disappearing into those lavender-scented hills, without so much as a trace. (A convenient lottery win and the inheritance of a rustic...
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