East of Avignon
"pinkish cliffs--the color of Roussillon"
Let me start off by saying that this village is not your normal Provence type village. It feels like it knows it has a quality that sets itself off from the others. You won't see buildings needing repair or trash in the streets. You willl pay a charge for parking along the road. Restaurants charge a bit more for their offerings. Artists have found this place and Roussillon is taking advantage of this.
There are two Roussillons in France. This is the one that is east of Avignon.
Upon viewing the cliffs below you will see why Roussillon is known for its pinkish red color. The houses and building of Roussillon are quite beautiful and this village is seemingly more kept up than surrounding villages. I found Roussillon to be more of an artist's village.
Roussillon is found on the southern edge of a plateau de Vaucluse. When we visited Roussillon we stayed at Bonnieux and Avignon is less than two hours drive away.
You will find pine forests surrounding the village which help lend a peacefulness there. The quaint streets of Roussillon are all easy to view because the village is small.
This is a village that I love to paint. Every corner gives an artist a different view with so many scenes with great composition. In the center are several outdoor cafes and you can walk a short ways and be above the cafes for a different look. You will see this in my photos below.
If you have been to Sedona, Arizona, the color of the the rocks is similar. There just aren't those big cliffs as in Sedona.
"This became a painting"
Right in the center of Roussillon you will find this picturesque spot. We were there in the afternoon, but I would have like to seen it when the light was coming from the left. This was taken during the midday meal time and there were few tourists out walking.
The cafes were full and you would need a reservation. There were no seats left for late comers.
"Look in "Things To Do" for more photos"
Roussillon is worth a day's visit. It is also near the lavendar fields, perfume makers, and the village where Peter Mayle lives and writes about.