episode XI: Cavaillon

Vicente and I with the family of his uncle Luis. [Photo by the friend of Luis, son of Luis]

Vicente and me with the family of his uncle Luis. [Photo by the friend of Luis, son of Luis]

Vicente was no stranger to the concept of Cavaillon after seeing the family of his mother disappear to the town, one by one, escaping Spain to find better opportunities to work. Having spent over a month in a car with Vicente I was also no stranger to its concept, but I was clearly a little rusty on the geography of France; “where is Cavaillon again?” I kept asking over and over again as we went through the motions of planning our route. Just like my initial impression of Alfafar, I thought Callosa was stunning, a gorgeous little French town, though the lettered and numbered apartment blocks where most of the migrant workers were living seemed less than idyllic.

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