Everything is quiet after supper. Hardly anyone is on the road. A few times I’ve seen boars and once, a deer. The evening gathers around me as I climb the mountain towards LaTourette. Partway up there is a monument marking La Méridienne Verte. The whole country celebrated in the year 2000 with steles alongside the roads and on 14 July with picnics. Our village had a paper picnic tablecloth that unrolled for meters and meters (and meters!) up a very small dirt road. Families seated themselves on both sides and furnished their own eating utensils and plates. There was much sharing of dishes and likewise much passing bottles of local wines. I am still impressed, when I think of it, that in the whole country—even in the smallest backwaters—people were participating in a grand display of conceptual art, honoring an imaginary line on the globe and installing permanent monuments in celebration.