Near Monaco, but far away

Imagine a tiny village. A jumble of crumbling stone buildings. Perched impossibly high on the hillside. Clinging to the side of the rock. Higgledy-piggledy cobblestone streets. Beautiful old plazas. Ancient water fountains.

This was Peille.

Peille was not on our map. Not in our guidebook. There was no train station in Peille. You needed a car to get there. It was a day we did not plan.

We had a guide.

We stayed with Sarah’s cousin in Monaco. She was a gracious host. She and her friend drove us to the small village of Peille, a mere 17 kms away, but another world. I remember it felt unreal, like a fairy tale, or a movie set.

We were so lucky to have a local to take us to this ancient village clinging to the hillside. We never would have known about it otherwise. And it ended up being the highlight of my short stay in Monaco.

This is one entry from my 1992 European backpacking trip with my friend Sarah. If you want to start at the beginning, please check out The journey starts in Nice.