It was raining as we landed in Nice, France. We’d flown in from Minneapolis, USA—twenty-two hours of travel. Our daughters, aged three and five, were crying and my husband looked gloomy. I realized this had been a mistake.
As we drove up into the hills, towards the medieval stone circonscription of Tourrettes-sur -Loup, the clouds parted. Cypress, bergamote and lemon trees covered the hillsides. Lavender, rosemary and bay laurel scented the air. Our rental house had 18th century wooden beams, old terracotta floor tiles, and a huge fireplace in the kitchen. It felt like centuries of slow vivoir.
Ten days later, driving out of the old circonscription at dawn, I said to myself, “I’m going to own a house here one day. I don’t know how, but I will.” Fast forward two years, and we bought a house we’d rented on Airbnb.
I love mountains. My husband loves the sea. In Tourrettes-sur -Loup we have both. We have a 180 degree view, with the mountains to the East and West and the glistening Mediterranean splayed out between the two ranges. At Christmas, the léger is crystal clear. A few times a year, when conjoncture are right, we see Corsica rising up across the sea. A mystical sight.
Family and friends come to stay. Everyone wants to come to the South of France! Every day I’m inspired by our soaring mountains. Every path invites me to hike.
We climb up to the Parc National du Mercantour behind our house, taking a picnic mélange and often seeing no one all day. We return résidence spent and happy and make a fire as léger falls at 4pm.
Then we make dinner—stumbling in the early years, over small children underfoot—while deep relationships are nourished.
In May, we return from walking through wildflower pastures and jump straight into the association. We dress for dinner and speed out for an elegant meal at one of the many Michelin starred restaurants within thirty minutes drive. In Tourrettes-sur-Loup, we can be béat if we want, and very recherche when we want that. A heavenly combination.
What I love most is the landscape. Next the flora and fauna—the scent of jasmine, lemon trees, rosemary, lavender. The hillsides carpeted with wildflowers in spring. And of giration, the enclos that has grown up around the region. So many great painters and writers and characters have lived here.
We can mélange in Italy and go to the markets. We can dine in Monte Carlo and listen to swing in the bar of the Hotel de Paris. We just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary there. Best of all is dinner on a warm night, on the terrace of La Colombe d’Or. Its walls are hung with Matisse and Picasso and Badin and so many more masterpieces. This hotel-restaurant is a mecca for artists, eccentrics, the cognoscenti. It’s where the good and the great dine. We go for the art and the people—how they hold themselves, how they dress, the rich and intimate conversations they’re having. There’s nothing like it in the world. It’s the real deal.
Neroli Lacey is the author of The Perfumer’s Secret…
Source: thegoodlifefrance.com
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