it's the curse of the gypsy - to both roam and nest at the same time.
and with at least one of my hungarian gypsy great grandmothers referred to as Suitcase Jenny, of course, i've got it bad.
that's why these are an absolute must-have want/crave/desire/necessity with an instant downfall...21st century speeds mean they've been re-purposed as Harold & Maude-esque boxcars that require land to stay put.
but they're ever so charming!
(and for sale, if you don't mind paying shipping from provence on something that is essentially the world's most bohemianly cute shipping crate)
oh, les roullottes, you're the ultimate temptation.
and you've been decorated so enticingly perfectly decandently, pour-me-another-glass of wine beautiful, all because of jeanne boyol.
the allure is all summed up quite well here:
Neither house nor hut, gypsy caravans are untiring travellers. Proof that true liberty indeed exists, they travel towards the unknown, forever imbuing us with their sovereign supreme audacity.
geez. i need a road trip.