While I was in Provence a few weeks ago, hanging out with Adorable Nephews #1 and #3, I paid a return visit to St Remy. I went hoping to replace my beloved swallow earrings (emblems for a Lady Traveller) that were taken when my house was burgled. Sadly, they proved to be irreplaceable - but St Remy was just as beautiful as I remembered.
I meandered around for about an hour, admiring the luxurious shops and beautiful nougat coloured buildings. The German idiom for living in the lap of luxury is 'leben wie gott in Frankreich', literally: living like (a) God in France. Certainly, you could be forgiven for thinking that St Remy had been designed expressly as a playground for the rich and/or godlike.
Serendipity took me to this charming cafe where it struck me that, as much as the faux vintage / shabby chic look is getting tiresome because of its ubiquity, it really works here. Perhaps because of the setting of (genuine) aged stone, faded (but original) ads pasted on the sides of buildings and - let's face it - the fact that the bright blue sky makes everything more appealing.
Because the cafe's order of croissants had yet to arrive, they pointed me to the bakery at the top of the square where I could buy my own and bring it back. (It occurs to me that since their name 'Les Filles Du Patissier' translates as 'the baker's daughters' they may have an in with said bakery.) Les filles promised to have my coffee ready by the time I came back and, indeed, they did. This has happened to me often in France and I love how easy cafe-owners are about it.
Although I was unlucky in my earring quest, I was more fortunate in my attempt to locate Joel Durand, the amazing chocolatier I discovered on my first trip to St Remy. The 'P' for Provence chocolates (with a salty-sweet olive filling) were just as good as I remembered. Truly fit for the gods.
I meandered around for about an hour, admiring the luxurious shops and beautiful nougat coloured buildings. The German idiom for living in the lap of luxury is 'leben wie gott in Frankreich', literally: living like (a) God in France. Certainly, you could be forgiven for thinking that St Remy had been designed expressly as a playground for the rich and/or godlike.
Serendipity took me to this charming cafe where it struck me that, as much as the faux vintage / shabby chic look is getting tiresome because of its ubiquity, it really works here. Perhaps because of the setting of (genuine) aged stone, faded (but original) ads pasted on the sides of buildings and - let's face it - the fact that the bright blue sky makes everything more appealing.
Because the cafe's order of croissants had yet to arrive, they pointed me to the bakery at the top of the square where I could buy my own and bring it back. (It occurs to me that since their name 'Les Filles Du Patissier' translates as 'the baker's daughters' they may have an in with said bakery.) Les filles promised to have my coffee ready by the time I came back and, indeed, they did. This has happened to me often in France and I love how easy cafe-owners are about it.
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