I have a confession to make. I've spent years taking women to France...to Provence, Normandy, to Avignon and beyond. I know France the way you know a place you keep returning to year after year. And it keeps giving me something new every time I visit. And somehow I didn't even think about another huge part of France.

There's a version of a day trip to Châteauneuf-du-Pape that most people get. They drive in, take a photo in front of the castle ruins, buy a bottle at the first cave they see, and leave within two hours feeling like they've done it.

There are places you visit once and remember fondly, and then there are places that quietly claim you. Avignon is the latter for me. I’ve returned to this region more times than I can count, and each visit feels less like a trip and more like coming back to myself. It’s where Maison d’Amies began, long before it had a name, rooted in shared meals, wandering streets, and the belief that travel should be savored, not rushed.

There's a particular quality to the light in Provence in September that's impossible to describe until you've experienced it yourself. The air softens. The shadows grow longer and more golden. And the summer crowds that pack the narrow streets of Avignon from June through August simply... disappear.