On the road to Arles, in Fontvieille, an old dismantled mill can still be seen amid the pines and holm oaks: it's Alphonse Daudet's mill.
It was here that the poet spent long days of dreams and memories. It was here that he stocked up on sunshine and perfumes, legends and refrains. It was here that he began to grind his little stories of Provence. It was here that Lettres de mon Moulin was dreamt up: a little masterpiece, so Provençal and so French, so regional and so universal all at once, steeped in human sensitivity and fragrant with humour: a spray of mischief and good humour, a bouquet of tenderness. A show featuring an essential work of our literary heritage for the whole family to enjoy...
