Describe a place in the countryside you have been to

The place I want to describe is my grandparents' village, about two hours outside the city, which I used to visit almost every school holiday as a child. We'd get there by bus and then a motorbike taxi down a dirt road that turned to mud whenever it rained, which even now I associate with the smell of wet earth more than anything else. What you see there is mostly rice paddies stretching out on both sides of the road, buffalo wading through them, and this enormous, almost theatrical sky that you just don't get in the city because there's nothing tall enough to interrupt it. I remember helping my grandmother feed the chickens and getting shouted at, affectionately, for standing in the wrong spot, and in the evenings there was this total, almost unsettling quiet after the generator was switched off. What struck me most, comparing it to the city, was the pace — nobody seemed to be rushing anywhere, conversations lasted as long as they needed to, and time felt looser somehow, less accounted for. The city, by contrast, always feels like it's keeping score. I haven't been back in a couple of years now, partly because my grandparents have since moved in with my parents, and I think that's part of why the memory has taken on this slightly idealised glow — it's easier to romanticise a place once you can't just go back whenever you want.