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Our week began with the sparkle of Paris — breakfasting on croissants at Café de Flore, slipping quietly into a private viewing at the Musée d’Orsay, and dining at a bistro so hidden, even some locals haven’t found it.
Midweek, the high-speed train whisked us into another world: Provence. Days unfolded among rows of lavender and sun-warmed vineyards, each afternoon ending with rosé on a terrace overlooking the Luberon hills. One evening, a village square lit up with string lights for an impromptu market — and we left with fresh chèvre, figs, and memories we didn’t plan for but will never forget.
