Just visible from the startling red ochre village of Roussillon is Gordes, perched dramatically on a steep hill side and crowned by a Renaissance château. It is a town of artists, mostly bad, some good, lured there by the beauty of its narrow streets and terraces of old stone houses. West of the main Place du Marché is a smaller square filled with a fountain, and a café called, for the moment, the Café Renaissance. But presumably there has always been a café just there; it is the ideal place to drink a glass of Côtes du Lubéron or iced Beaumes-de-Venise, under a huge plane tree strung with lights, like Christmas all year round.