Movement, Memory, and a Long-Awaited Stay in Southern France
Last summer, the world felt like it was finally stretching its legs again, and so did we. After years of cautious travel—testing policies, scanning headlines, and weighing what-ifs—we set out on a 3½ week sprint across Western Europe. It was more ambitious than usual. Less our typical slow-burn kind of trip and more a series of connected moments, stitched together by trains, rental cars, and early-morning wakeups.
We covered a lot of ground, more than we usually would. But the goal was clear: expose the kids to a variety of cultures, landscapes, and languages. From the coastlines to the countryside, bustling cities to quiet hilltop villages, we wanted them to feel the texture of Europe. And they did.
But somewhere along the way, between navigating busy train stations and hunting for family-sized Airbnbs, we found ourselves craving a slower pace again. The kind that lets you settle into a rhythm and really absorb a place. We’ll go back to that next time. One region. One cadence. Fewer check-ins.
Still, one stretch of the journey stood out. A place that didn’t just meet expectations but felt like it had been waiting for us.
In the hills of Southern France, tucked among old stone villages and lavender fields, was the original Dior perfume flower estate. We had tried to book it back in the spring of 2020, before the world hit pause, but the timing hadn’t worked out. This time, it did.
Passing through its gates, it felt as though we’d entered another century. The property carried the weight of history, but it didn’t feel fragile. It felt alive. Roses and jasmine in full bloom, the scent of old-world refinement in the air, and a kind of stillness you can’t find on a map.
For Lindsey and me, it was one of those rare places that immediately slows your heart rate. The kind of place you instinctively want to linger. And we did, if only briefly. We sipped wine at sunset, walked among the flowers that once inspired a legacy, and imagined what it would be like to stay the entire summer.
Maybe someday.
