It doesn’t take a lot to forged me into my favorite fantasy: the one through which I’m, in reality, French. As we drove via Provence into Luberon – solar on my face, tortoiseshell shades on, ‘Je t’aime moi non plus’ taking part in on the stereo – I used to be totally immersed once more, channelling my internal Jane Birkin, marvelling at how the sunshine falls otherwise right here.
‘Look, it’s similar to a Cezanne oil portray’, I stated to Serge (aka Mr Smith) within the passenger seat and all I wanted now was a scarf. Maybe a convertible too. However the bubble burst as quick because the Citroën, approaching like a System One racer, determined to overhaul us.
The waves of leisure I had began to take pleasure in have been whipped up right into a match of pique. The expletives I discovered have been distinctly English. We pulled into the village of Lourmarin just a bit flustered.
The lodge is true within the coronary heart of the village and due to this fact has no automotive park. With slender streets (and narrower parking areas) we opted for a spot up by the château and made our method down on foot.
Le Moulin’s entrance is unassuming – in reality, we walked proper by it earlier than realising we’d missed it. Or maybe I used to be nonetheless distracted by the crimson mist. However as quickly as we stepped inside, the road-rage was forgotten. Calming neutrals and sepia-hued tones washed over us and delivered me straight again into my Birkin and Gainsbourg desires.
Mr Smith, being French, took cost of check-in, while I had a nosey round. There’s little doubt you’re within the south of France: thick stone partitions, terracotta and ochre tiles, wicker furnishings, rattan shades and dried flowers – it’s a classique French Farmhouse with fashionable refinements.
Our room was simply as pleasing, oozing that nostalgic, Provençal attraction and understated luxurious. There’s a je ne sais quoi about Le Moulin and I used to be in inside heaven.
It was apéritif hour, so I threw on a linen costume, dabbed some rouge onto my lips and headed out. Le Moulin is on one of many primary streets of Lourmarin and proper in your doorstep are the charming French boutiques promoting as many lavender scented drawer baggage, provencal soaps and stylish objets as you possibly can match into your carry-on.
Bars and eating places line the slender streets in usually French style. We picked the liveliest the place the three primary streets within the village converge – excellent for folks watching – and sipped the lightest rosé you’ve ever forged your eyes on. No must ask for ‘blush’ right here. It was so sippable in reality that earlier than I knew it, Mr Smith had ordered ‘Deux verres supplémentaires, si vous plait!’
Our keep was in the direction of the tip of September when, regardless of the gloriously heat sunshine in the course of the day, the evenings get chilly. We shivered again to the lodge simply in time for our dinner reservation within the eating room. Stable stone arches and a vaulted ceiling are spectacular reminders of the constructing’s historical past (it’s a transformed 18th-century mill).
It’s a big house, but the environment is cosy and relaxed. Feeling heat and fuzzy, we have been prepared for some hearty, home-cooked menu, and we weren’t upset. Provencal olive tarts, adopted by filet de boeuf, accompanied by a effective crimson. Parfait! For sure, we slept very nicely that evening.
The next morning, craving some gentle train to compensate for yesterday’s excesses, we took a stroll round city. Lourmarin, though vigorous, could be very small, so after our morning espresso within the solar Mr Smith prompt we benefit from the lodge’s bikes to discover additional afield.
Now, I ought to point out at this level that I passionately dislike biking. I’m scarred from household holidays after we have been pressured to cycle among the hilliest components of France – on a motorbike with no gears, in sweltering summer time warmth, aggressive canines chasing us – at all times to find the eating places which have been our vacation spot had already closed.
So, it’s no shock I didn’t soar for pleasure at his suggestion. That was, till I realised that these bikes have been e-bikes – what an ingenious game-changer. Hills have been tackled with ease! My thighs weren’t burning! I didn’t break a sweat! My headband remained firmly in place!
I loved the panoramic views throughout the mountains, valleys and plains, with limitless vineyards and honey-hued villages on the hilltops. It’s no surprise artists, poets and writers have drawn inspiration from this a part of France for generations.
The remainder of our journey handed in a wonderfully sun-dazed, rosé-tinted blur. We wandered the close by chateau’s olive groves, drooled over the native produce on the lodge’s deli, Le Commissioner, and hid ourselves away on the secret pool. In beneath 48 hours I had totally adjusted to the brand new tempo of village life and will fairly simply have settled in for some time – simply name us Monsieur et Madame Terrasse.
Again on the motorway in the direction of Marseille airport, we left Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg behind us. Nevertheless it’s via sepia glasses that we’ll look again on our keep at Le Moulin.
Unassuming and genuine, it means that you can take pleasure in life’s easy pleasures, and on this usually face-paced existence, reminds you ways vital it’s to generally decelerate. Or perhaps that’s the Citroën driving up your bottom. Mon dieu!
Charlotte Wenman is senior inventive producer, helming photoshoots for a mess of style, life-style and journey manufacturers, working with the likes of Harrods, Soho Home, Cowshed, Lemaire, Monocle, Suitcase and extra. When not on set in far-flung areas, she’s having fun with a slower tempo of life in her newly renovated cottage within the coronary heart of the Kent countryside.