A mild and gentle rain had just begun. Through a narrow gap in a thick hedge hiding the river Garonne, I saw two elderly men fishing. I found a way to reach them.
I asked about fishing, then about living in their enchanting region of Bordeaux in southwest France. They described lives barely touched by time. Lives that follow the slow seasonal rhythm of the vineyards with the same ancestral predictability as the river current is regulated by the tides of the distant Atlantic Ocean.