Far away, in a town full of mysterious archaeology and golden light, it felt like I was looking for something, or even someone. But Van Gogh certainly didn’t live there any more, and it was difficult to imagine a time before cars prowled the streets.
There was definitely plenty of light and colour, accompanied by warm shade. Then there was the amphitheatre, appearing enigmatically at the edge of things and looking quite unreal lit by the evening sun.
Some of these things are needed in paintings, I think. The rich colours, the light and shadow and the feeling of an unknowable presence, seen or unseen, in the distance.