I took this photo eight or nine years ago in Vaison la Romaine, up in the Vauclause. I was a little worried about the darkness under his eyes and the potential poverty he depicts. Vaison is an attractive, quite ‘up-market’ place, famous for its Roman remains.

Another picture of the same place which I didn’t take ( source:’Watts up with that’). Down in my village today, my attention was drawn to a special edition of the local newspaper commemorating twenty five years since the devastating flood in Vaison that killed forty two people and destroyed huge parts of the town.

By 22 September, 1992, Provence had witnessed four years of virtual drought but  it had been raining for days, although there was no sense of impending doom. In the afternoon of this catastrophic day, an alert was issued warning of rare violent pluvio-orageux, rain storms, and the security forces were put on alert. However, the campsite upstream from the Roman bridge, situated next to a normally small stream, wasn’t evacuated because no-one realised the  impending danger. Similarly, inhabitants of a small housing estate on the opposite bank of the river remained oblivious.

Nonetheless, by mid-afternoon, the town was cut off from all communications with the outside world. Just after 4pm, the rain stopped but too late in the day to forestall tragedy. An enormous wave, more than 15 metres high, swept onto the campsite causing death and devastation. As it proceeded towards the Roman bridge, it grew in height and speed. The 2000 years old bridge had, uniquely, withstood German bombardment in WW2 and somehow managed to survive this onslaught.

In Vaison, however, not everything was as strong or fortified. The security forces rescued hundreds of people trapped on roofs or struggling in the waves. Bodies were discovered for the next fifteen days and it took years to remove all traces of the deluge.

This link should take you to extraordinary footage of the river in full force on the 22nd September: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9o3tvuN5pQ

On this current sojourn, the weather has been, as we say in England, ‘up and down’, and often ‘unseasonable’. Nonetheless, today I’ve been swimming in the open air and I write this on my terrace in the late sunshine. Over in Vaison, they’re holding a service to remember the lost of another 22 September.