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Saint-Tropez & surroundings

In the past, Saint-Tropez was a quiet hamlet - a small fishing village, as portrayed in the 1956 Roger Vadim film "…And God Created Woman". There are vast expanses of land covered by pines, oaks and cypresses that loom over the sea. There are fields of gnarled olive trees, and old wooden boats, whose paint has been eaten away by salt and erosion. Indeed, it was the ascent to world fame of the film’s heroine Brigitte Bardot that helped this humble village turn into such a popular destination. Since then, Saint-Tropez has metamorphosed, all the while keeping its Provence village charm. There is Senequier, the most celebrated café in the region, where you drink ice coffees while leafing through Var-Matin; a myriad of beach bars where you find the crème de la crème of the international jet-set, and sublime landscapes bathed in sunshine. Then there’s the Mediterranean climate and the secret beaches, not to mention the smells of maquis, myrtle and rosemary. The neighboring villages of Ramatuelle and Gassin have retained their old-time charm, with small flower-covered streets, ancient houses with stone walls, and hidden places where nature is still untamed. You discover them by chance, following the rocky paths strewn with pine needles. The walk is punctuated by the squawks of seagulls observing your unsteady gait through the rocky obstacles, as you try to reach the sea. The coastline is a succession of coves and fine sand beaches where you hear nothing but the slow sound of the waves. In the port, the fishermen untangle their nets and throw the small fish into a bucket: these will serve to prepare the bouillabaisse. On the beach of l'Escalet, the table is set up in the shade of the trees. The meal, of course, is served with olive oil, and a regional rosé to be savored while listening to the incessant song of the cicadas. The afternoon is reserved for swimming in the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean and games of petanque, one of many Provence traditions that make this region a foremost destination.

Marseille

Standing on the ramparts of Fort Saint Jean, you are a stone's throw from the sea. The landscape distills into three colors: the pink of the time-worn stone of the fort, the deep blue of the sea and the light blue of the cloudless sky. Boats sail offshore or enter the crowded harbor. The gigantic shadow of a ferry lazily floats out of the trading port and briefly hide the Estaque from view. Down below people drink coffee on the platform of the fort and explore the stairs overgrown with flowers. You stop for a moment between two olive trees to enjoy the warmth of the sun. Here, on this immense open sky terrace, one almost forgets the big city behind these century-old walls. The MuCEM stares back at you, wrapped in a garland of black concrete. A few years ago, the site on which it stands was nothing more than an abandoned jetty occupied by petanque players, traveling circuses, and masses of cars bound for the Mediterranean. The old lady of Marseille and this newcomer now guard the port side by side, symbolizing the old and new face of Marseille. Incongruous mixtures make Marseille what it is: the ubiquitous presence of nature in the midst of extremely urban settings, bold architecture standing next to fishing ports, ancient history and street art meeting at the same corner. Go for a family stroll by the harbor and you’re suddenly surrounded by fishing boats and buildings from the ‘50s. The sailors strip paint off sea-beaten hulls as the café terraces steadily fill up. Boats light-heartedly set out towards the inlets whose white cliffs and wilderness are never far away. Although it is two thousand years old, Marseille never takes itself too seriously. It is known for having its own distinct character. It has a unique knack for knowing how to let life flourish, allowing little histories to live alongside its grand one. In Le Panier, the oldest district, one plays hide-and-seek with the sun under the 17th century arches of La Vieille Charité. In Le Cours Julien one sits in the shade of trees, surrounded by more street art than anywhere else in Europe. Under the arcades of the byzantine-style La Major, the waiters shout across to one another from their fish stands and pizza ovens. As you follow the footsteps of the Impressionists to the small port of l'Estaque, you find yourself swept away by the smell of panisses exuding from huts that have remained unchanged for decades. The summer and the easy-going rhythm of life linger in Marseille throughout the year. They are in the little Malmousque coves hidden under the Corniche, between the beautiful pastel houses and the fishermen's huts somewhat eaten away by salt. They are in the sea that emerges at every turn. You find a bit of this communal and holiday feel everywhere in Marseilles. Each neighborhood has its own identity, but perhaps nowhere as much as in the tiny port of Les Goudes, where the sight of pink, blue and yellow huts makes you suspect that time has truly stopped. The lone street is so narrow that going down it by car is a real feat. This is where you go to enjoy the catch of the day in one of the bars facing the harbor, a pergola above your head, sheltered even in winter from the mistral. Marseille is a great lady of inexhaustible youth - without frills and rejecting conventions. Her beauty is welcoming, indolent and brazen at the same time. She is forever turned towards the Mediterranean, seeing off her fishermen as they leave for the sea under the watchful eye of La Bonne Mère (a local nickname for Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde).

Ibiza

Early in the morning, curiosity leads us to the warm, crystal-clear waters of Sa Caleta, a little cove sheltered from the wind and swell south of Ibiza. Behind the white sandy beach, we find a small traditional fishing port teeming with cabins. We walk from one to the other, balancing on their thin wooden ramps submerged in glistening water. Their doors follow in line, green then blue. Just above us, the sharp ochre cliff strangely evokes the great American West. Silence reigns, disrupted only by the echo of the small boats - llüts – sailing off into the turquoise sea. We sit down for a moment among the ropes and chains in the cool shade of haphazard roofing before starting up the stairs that stretch behind the cabins towards the ruddy heights. High up, we find Phoenician ruins surrounded by pines. Far from the clamor of the towns, only the sound of the cicadas echoes on the rocks. Some lizards scamper around our feet. From the top of the cliff, the coves seem tiny, lined up like horseshoes opening upon the shimmering sea. Everywhere on the white island, nature manifests itself in all its wildness and diversity, baffling and fascinating us at the same time. Throughout the seasons, we come across cacti, carob trees, almond trees in bloom and centuries-old olive trees. With one’s feet in the water and one’s eyes on the horizon, it is not rare to witness a sunset of pink, yellow and pale blue, the background of our most beautiful evenings. In such tranquil moments, one almost forgets that Ibiza is about to burst with light. As night falls, the island holds to its ‘party capital’ reputation. Night after night, the cities of Ibiza and San Antonio host the best beach, rooftop and club parties. Moreover, with the numerous chiringuitos and restaurants scattered around the island, Ibiza ranks high among the top gastronomic destinations. The festive atmosphere goes hand in hand with Ibiza’s own version of la dolce vita. Since the 1930s, many intellectuals, artists, and nonconformists who seek warmth and tranquility have been drawn to the wilderness and hedonism of Ibiza. Its spirit of freedom and of creativity has persevered to this day. A detour to Formentera When Ibiza becomes too hectic, there is always its little sister Formentera, wilder and more preserved from mass tourism and urbanization. As it has no airport, it can only be reached by sea from Ibiza. A long way from Ibiza’s extravagances and clubs, with the clearest waters of the Mediterranean, this secret retreat will please those in search of quiet and tranquility. Here, straw hats replace sequin dresses. Country roads lead to sandy beaches that easily compete with those of the Caribbean. To preserve its much sought after calm, bicycles and scooters are favored on the island. There are few restaurants, bars and hotels in Formentera, an absence that only adds to the island’s discreet charm. In the back of its paradisiacal beach, there’s Beso, where you can grab lunch with your feet in the sand and great music in the background. The restaurant is renowned for its paella and octopus, served with warmth and flair in the shade of an impressive pergola.