A home in Provence

I never buy the first pair of shoes I try on. But after trying on a dozen pair,I sometimes find the first pair fit best.

After touring 35 houses over three weeks across Languedoc and Provence, I returned to the second one I'd seen. I'd known it was the house for me even before the trip. From the first time I spotted it online, there was something different about it, something that resonated in a way that others didn't. So, after a second visit to be sure, and a third visit with my savvy French friends who confirmed the choice, I made an offer on a maison de village in a tiny hamlet of 120 homes.

From the village, 50 minutes north of Avignon and 9 kilometers outside Vaison-la-Romaine, you can see for miles down a vine-filled valley reminiscent of Tuscany. It was this view that drew the Knights of the Templar to establish a commanderie there in the 12th century, but it was the wine-making in the valley below that has kept a village there ever since.

The house, a three-story stone cottage with rose-colored shutters, was built in 1830 a few steps from remnants of the original medieval wall. It wasn't a grand house, I'd seen better. It had no garden, although the roof terrace was private and nice. And I'd have to be creative in defining a space to eat since there was no formal dining room and the kitchen was small. But the three bedrooms were large and bright, the fireplaces all working, and rooms painted the lovliest shades of lavender, pink and green. There was space to create two more bedrooms and a second bath, if needed, and it was easy to picture my family there, and visiting friends and small parties.

In the end,of course,the decision was less about the particulars of the house than the particulars of my heart. Walking from the village down the hill and through an orchard of ancient olive trees, the wind blowing across miles of thyme, fennel and vines, I knew the search was over. I was home. The offer went in the next day.