Paraguaya a la Francesa

This afternoon, while walking through the cobbled streets of Lyon, I noticed how the air filled with a particular aroma of tobacco and anise. A group of friends laughed around a small table with tall pastis glasses, accompanied by small bites of charcuterie. It was, without a doubt, the magic of the French apéritif in action.

There is a magical moment when the sunset light brushes the lavender fields of Sault. Everything is tinted in shades of lilac and gold, a spectacle worthy of admiration. Walking among these flowers feels like stepping into a perfumed dream, where time seems to stand still.

I have a weakness for ñandutí, that delicate lace carrying the stories of hardworking hands in Paraguay. I remember the first time my eyes got lost among its intricate threads at a fair in Asunción, as if every turn of the needle had its own whisper. Up close, ñandutí looks like a miniature universe, where each woven figure tells a little story: a fresh sunrise, a chat full of laughter and mate, or the memory of a distant hug.

On a bright afternoon, when the golden rays of the French sun gently caress the lavender fields of Sault, I feel that I am in a magical corner of the world. It is a place where the air smells of dreams and memories. Sault, a small village nestled in the Provence region, is best known for its endless lavender fields.