Undiscovered Provence

Getting away from the glitz and glamour of Cannes, Nice and the Côte d’Azur, Joanna Leggett discovers the hidden magic of Provence off the beaten track.

- Joanna Leggett

From the very first you’re struck by a different world. Bleached silvery landscapes are set below the craggy foothills of the Alpes-Maritimes department thrusting their way downwards towards the Mediterranean. The ranges seem to be painted misty blue with the peaks pointing into the azure sky. It’s not for nothing the coast is known as the Côte d’Azur. Cypress trees dot the landscape, as if thrown carelessly by a giant’s hand, placed so perfectly they enhance the view from any vantage point.

The scents of lavender, rosemary and pine are so evocative of Provence. With the sun warming my shoulders, I close my eyes, inhale, listen to the cicadas and could be nowhere else.

Where Provence starts is unclear. Of course, it stretches from Alpes-Maritimes down to the coast, but exactly where the light changes to the golden hues which bathe this part of the country seems to happen somewhere along the Rhône valley between Montélimar (just think nougat) and Orange.

To me, Provence is a state of mind – an entry into a brighter, warmer world. Of course there are tourist areas where numbers swell over the summer months, but in the heart of true Provence – away from areas lauded by Peter Mayle in his books and that delicious film A Good Year – life continues at a different beat. Old men play boules in village squares, stopping for pastis at shaded tables under ancient plane trees. Markets abound with wonderful sun-blessed vegetables waiting to tempt your tastebuds and inspire you to create something special for supper; this might be as simple as goat cheese with the freshest ripe tomatoes sprinkled with herbs and local olive oil, luscious bread and, naturally, a glass of Provençal rosé.