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"I like to amble around the land of my childhood: Picardy. When I was a child I liked to get lost in the fields and groves that surrounded the north of Amiens. At that time our holidays consisted of the coast between Quend and Fort-Mahon, picnics in the dunes and games on immense beaches: the air there has a unique smell; it smells of the sea and salty wind. I also enjoyed losing myself in Picardy's countryside and along its small lanes where small, compact villages give way around a bend to a field of poppies, rape and even sunflowers. That's how I see Picardy: mauve like the sea, red like the flowering poppies, green like the enclosures and yellow like the rape. "
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