Nîmes, 1764.
My grandpa, Étienne, had a feverish soul. He was an antiquarian, meaning he was passionate about everything that bore the mark of the Roman world. In Nîmes, he only had to bend down to dream. Everywhere, you'll find ruins, fragments, and traces of the past. He kept a notebook with an ink-stained cover, in which he carefully copied Latin inscriptions, drew forgotten moldings, and annotated his thoughts. For him, every stone was a poem.

This is how the visit begins: by following in the footsteps of an 18th-century man, then his granddaughter, Élise, who will take up the torch in the next century. Together, they'll guide us through the Nîmes of knowledge, elegance, and loving archaeology.

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