Seven Days in the South of France
There’s an ease around solitude in France, especially in the south. A quiet contentment, like they’ve made peace with being alone. Maybe even prefer it.
I began in Nice and found myself continually returning to Pain & Cie, not just for the food or its spot at the edge of Marché Aux Fleurs, but for the long wooden table meant for solo diners. One meal, I sat across from an older man. We didn’t speak—just exchanged a glance. I ordered what he was having. He nodded. We ate in silence, and that felt complete. No need to fill the space. Just presence.
I started noticing it everywhere. People alone in the line of chairs by the promenade, quietly watching the sea. A woman sunbathing by herself on a tiny window balcony. Another on a tanning bed in the middle of her living room, lit by the afternoon sun. People at the markets alone, taking their time, choosing things carefully. Not lonely—just living.
It made me realize how different that is from what I’m used to. In most places, being alone feels like something you’re supposed to fix. Rather here it is just part of life. Normal. Even beautiful.
My first excursion was Saint-Paul de Vence. I wandered the medieval walls, later pleasantly lost as I walked through the streets filled with art galleries. Down south, the locals say jamais sans mes boules—never without their game of pétanque. You can watch matches from the terrace of Café de la Place, or escape next door into La Colombe d’Or and feel the quiet hum of Picasso-era inspiration.
Jardin Exotique d’Èze
La Colombe d’Or
Two miles down the street is the Fondation Maeght, France’s first independent art foundation. I spent time wandering the grounds, soaking in views that stretch from the city all the way to the sea. There’s a sculpture called Per Quelli qui Volano meaning for those who fly. I breathed this quote in, feeling like a quiet invitation. The café there is the perfect spot to sketch, surrounded by peaceful scenes and stillness.
I saw both Èze and Villefranche in one day. For the best view of Èze, the Jardin Exotique d’Èze can’t be missed—perched high above, it offers a breathtaking panorama of the coastline. Down in Villefranche, the narrow streets and seaside charm drew me in. I ended the day back in Nice, enjoying live music and some quiet seaside reading.
Taking the train from Nice to Aix-en-Provence felt like stepping into a different rhythm. The city had a youthful energy: full of students, movement, and lightness. I met my friend at a bar, where she welcomed me with an iced glass of Ricard. After catching up, we wandered through the local markets, picking out fresh fish and vegetables for dinner.
My next day was spent visiting to the Book in Bar & Hôtel de Caumont to see an exhibition of photographer Steve McCurry’s work, spectacular and moving.
The last morning began with the smell of crepes and coffee. We fueled up for a road trip through Provence, passing through the postcard-perfect towns of Gordes, Lourmarin, and Roussillon. We stopped at a vineyard and picked out a bottle of rosé for our picnic. It was the perfect way to end the trip—slow, sunny, and unhurried. We spent the day weaving through quiet villages, sipping wine, and enjoying easy conversation. As the light faded, we pulled into the driveway, the sky soft and golden. A gentle close to a trip that asked only to be felt.
Pétanque at Café de la Place
Lourmarin
Les marchés de Provence