Provence in Pictures: Cafés and Lavender Dreams

Dreaming of Provence

That Place Where I'd Like to Be – Dreaming of Provence is more than just a phrase: it’s a feeling that returns with every dazzling image.

Dreaming is simple. In the past, all I needed was imagination, a hidden memory, or a yellowed postcard. Today, I just open Pinterest—my “dream places” board flows like an endless waterfall of beauty. The images cascade down my screen, and slowly, I drift away.

I love Provençal villages. Who could resist them? Cobblestone streets, blue-shuttered windows, and fruit markets painted in the colors of Cézanne. The sun—warm and almost tangible—slips through the photos as if I could truly touch it.

Images That Stop Time

Without thinking, I pin fresh lemons, bundles of lavender, pastel soaps stacked like macarons. Then, an image stops me: a café on a corner, embraced by a leafy tree. Its branches seem to shelter it. Small tables, people chatting in coats, steaming cups. How I wish I were there—right now.

Afterwards, I scroll down. A smile appears without me realizing. The Louvre appears with its majestic staircase, and the glass pyramid reveals Paris beyond. I click. Then, a window looking out over Lake Como. Another click takes me further away.

Little Pleasures, Lasting Memories

Aix-en-Provence appears again. It offers exquisite boulangeries, golden croissants, and warm quiches Lorraine with melted cheese. The beauty of Aix’s old town remains with me, always.

Then comes Roussillon and its red earth. Gordes, with stone houses stacked along the hill. The Abbey of Sénanque, surrounded by lavender blooms, is like a violet dream. A window opening to Tuscany. Another revealing the Eiffel Tower. These are moments of delight that slip into my day—as if just looking was enough to be there.

Even when no image appears, Grasse and its perfumes return. Beyond that lies Salon-de-Provence, land of Nostradamus. Avignon with its bridge and that childhood song… “Sur le pont d’Avignon, on y danse, on y danse…” The Papal Palace rises, monumental and unforgettable.

And finally, Arles with its golden light that inspired Van Gogh. Its lively cafés and endless sunflower fields. Nîmes, with its Roman coliseum still echoing ancient crowds. Everything returns as if I could walk through it again—this time through memory. That Place Where I'd Like to Be – Dreaming of Provence may be the most intimate journey of all.