59 fountains: Fountain 35 The Diane Fountain, Moustiers Sainte-Marie

I had driven for miles following the vague directions given by the stone mason's wife from the campsite at Malaucene. She had described the minutia of the campsite, highlighting the dearth of children in a gleeful voice, but had failed to give the essential information, such as its name, which would enable me to actually find it. I stopped for directions at a table placed at the side of the road. A flimsy plastic awning sheltered a very round and flowery old woman who smiled and said that she knew of a lovely and economical campsite. Nevertheless, she appeared to not hear, or understand, when I asked for directions.

Then launching into a well rehearsed scenario, she offered me her wares in a clockwise order. I refused her offer of lavender sachets stitched into tiny purple and orange pillows, lavender and beeswax floor polish, lavender bath soap, lavender and honey throat pastilles, lavender infused olive oil. When she got as far as the jars of lavender honey, I knew that despite its cost, I must concede to a sale. Once our business was completed, she pointed to a rough tarmac road in the distance.

"Suivre cette route. Ce n'est pas très loin."

I followed the ever narrowing road for twenty minutes or so. I had based my waning trust upon one faded sign with "Camping" painted in clumsy red letters. The road climbed and gave me a 180 degree view of the enormous slash of a turquoise lake nestled among nearly black mountains. I was about to give up and retrace my route when I saw a powow of white teepees on the horizon.