AIX-EN-PROVENCE, FRANCE – Market day in this ancient Roman city is always a colorful event. The fruit and vegetable stands are lush with bright, local produce; large jars filled with spices punch the air with erotic scents; freshly-picked flowers are stacked high; colourful French characters, cigarettes dangling out of their mouths, seduce the crowd with their charming wit and salesmanship.
It’s a scene right out of a book – which it is.
“Oh look,” says one British woman as she arrives at a market, circa 124 BC, “it’s just like he describes it in the book.”
The “he” the woman was referring to is author Peter Mayle, who spotlighted this market, along with one in nearby Avignon, in his runaway bestseller A Year In Provence, the first in a series of his books in which he features the magical places and people who live in this most enchanting of French regions.
“Many of our guests ask about Monsieur Mayle,” a dark-eyed woman with the olive oil skin named Anne-Sophie Guihard informs me as we sip coffee in the colourful surroundings of the Villa Gallici, a 19th century home that has been transformed into one of France’s most desirable hotels.
Above: The market in Aix is very special.
“They all want to know where Monsieur Mayle lives,” says Guihard, general manager of the hotel, one of over 200 unique properties in France that display the butterflied Fleur-de-Lys emblem of the prestigeous Relais & Chateaux group.
The 22-room Villa Gallici is where I park my rented car on the sixth day of my drive across southern France, which started in Nice and has brought me here mainly because of my fascination with the descriptions in Mayle’s books.
“Our guests use the Villa as a base and go searching the Luberon for the places Monsieur Mayle talks about in his book,” the enchanting Guihard says in the gracious hotel’s living room filled with museum-worthy antiques.
After taking early retirement from his London job, Mayle moved to the tiny Provence village of Lourmarin at the base of the Luberon Mountains and began chronicling his life there – all the while introducing readers like me to the charming French characters he has met along the way.
Because of my noon-time arrival, I decide to tour historic Axe, the birthplace of post-impresionist painter Cezanne, and soak up the hotel’s wonderful ambience before setting out for Lourmarin the next morning. Anne-Sophie promises to map out a route to the tiny village located less than an hour away from Axe.
The Villa, which resembles a fine French country estate, complete with iron gates and statues guarding the entrance, is located on a hill overlooking Axe’s market and historic area. It has no formal dining room so guests enjoy gourmet meals in the luxury of the ornate sitting room, which is decorated in vibrant fabric wall coverings with matching overstuffed furniture.
Early the next morning, with a sumptuous Provence breakfast under my belt and Anne-Sophie’s map as a guide, I head out on the A51, exiting a short while later at Pertuis, a charming town featuring wine and pottery makers selling their wares on the side of highway D973, one of the local roads that snake through the Luberon.
The pleasant, well-marked roads here are lined with rows of the bare-looking plane trees that when in full bloom shade drivers from the valley’s searing heat with a natural canopy that by all indications is quite spectacular.
The wonderful drive along the base of the Luberon Mountains introduces me to some dramatic scenery – lush sweeping valleys sitting in the shadow of majestic white cliffs that from a distance look like giant clumps of meringue.
My eyes light up when a sign tells me I’m about to enter Lourmarin, the tiny village Mayle discovered on holiday and fell madly in love with. Lourmarin and other Provencal villages like it seduce travellers with their quiet country charm and narrow streets lined with enticing boulangeries.
The most enchanting thing about Mayle’s books is the wonderful characters he meets in Provence. It doesn’t take long for me to come across one, a local artisan by the name of Alexandre Berthet, who sells unique wood products made from olive trees from his tiny shop at 22 Rue Henri de Savorin.
“Oh, you are a member of Monsieur Mayle’s fan club, too,” says Berthet as he welcomes me to his town which features a 15th century chateau – the first Renaissance Chateau built in Provence – and is the burial sight of a far more prominent writer than Mayle, France’s Albert Camus.
“People come from as far away as Japan to visit us and see Monsieur Mayle,” says the rustic-looking Berthet who scoffs at the rumour a stranger brings that the Mayles had to vacate Lourmarin because they were being besieged by fans.
“Mais, non,” a startled Alexandre tells me. “Monsieur Mayle has two homes just outside the village – one where he works and one where he lives. It’s a closely guarded secret where they are located.”
Even the purchase of one of his creative crafts does not loosen Alexandre’s lips on the whereabouts of Mayle’s homes. As I stroll through the centre of town, a vintage Citroën car, the kind Mayle bought when he first arrived in Provence, passes with an elderly couple inside. Could it be Mayle and his wife? Unfortunately, no.
The rest of the afternoon is spent wandering the village with the steep hills that has now become a chic place to call home. As I looked at the local real estate office advertising homes for as much as €1 million, I recall that when Mayle first arrived he paid around €100,000 for his Provence farmhouse.
Above: The smell of spices perfumes the air around the market.
Many of the everyday shops Mayle writes about in his books have been replaced by upscale inns and restaurants. The boulangerie where he pedals to get his bread most mornings is still on Rue Henri de Savorin and so I purchase a few biscuits to take along on the drive.
Local women carrying baskets of freshly baked baguettes remind me of some of the characters Mayle mentions in his books and the old man wearing the weathered clothes walking towards me as I enjoy a glass of wine at Chez Caby looks like he just stepped out of a chapter of A Year In Provence.
For the most part, though, I have to agree with the American sitting beside me that “I would have liked to have seen this town before Mayle popularized it.”
It’s still early so I continue my drive through the Luberon, stopping at the medieval towns of Bonnieux, Gordes, Roussillon and Fontaine de Vaucluse, all of which sit perched on rocky cliffs overlooking the lush Luberon valley where vineyards prosper in the rich soil.
On the drive back to Villa Gallici, I stop at a quaint inn where I enjoy a local Provence dish called La Daube, a beef stew that is perfectly accented with Provence herbs.
The next morning I reluctantly bid adieu to Anne-Sophie and the Villa Gallici and head for my final stop – at Salon-de-Provence’s Abbaye de Sainte Croix - on what has proven to be one of the most memorable drives this seasoned traveller has ever taken.
The Abbaye de Sainte Croix is a 12th century monastery perched high atop a honeycomb mountain overlooking the terra-cotta town.
The Abbaye is another place popular with Mayle’s fans, Catherine Bossard, the engaging owner of the Relais & Chateaux property tells me.
“When his books on Provence were first published many of our North American guests asked where they could find Monsieur Mayle,” Bossard tells me. “Now, not so much.”
Salon sits at the crossroads of Provence. A sleepy town featuring a 10th century castle – Chateau de l’Emperi – and sandwiched between Axe and Avignon. It’s within easy driving distance of historic sites like Arles, Nimes and Remoulins, where the much photographed Pont de Gard (Roman aqueduct) can be found.
The Abbaye’s rooms, all named after saints – my charming two-storey abode was called St. Thomas – are bright and colourful and came with great views of the garden where lavender bushes perfume the mountain air. My room here, decorated in cheerful Provencal motif, was a highlight in a trip jammed with highlights.
After just one night at the Abbaye, it’s time to turn in my rental car at Avignon and catch the futuristic TGV bullet train back to Paris and a few nights at Relais & Chateaux’s charming Hotel de Vigny, located around the corner from the Arc de Triomphe.
The glorious French scenary the TGV, an amazing feat of technology, reveals on the way out of southern France gives travellers one more option to consider when planning a trip to this beautiful country.
In all, I covered 902 glorious kilometres on my eight day journey through the Cote d’Azur and Provence. Stayed in five of the most memorable hotels I have ever visited. Met dozens of interesting and friendly people. And came away full of hope that maybe one day, I too can live A Year In Provence.