The Provence you can’t miss is romantic, picturesque, surprising

Every summer, courtesy of my television, FOMO arrives.

FOMO, or “fear of missing out,” is the sense that excitement is happening elsewhere and you’re not on hand to share it. I especially experience it every July when the Tour de France appears on TV, rolling at bicycle speed through the meadows and mountains and villages of France. Especially rural France. Especially Provence.

You know the images. The poppies, the Roman ruins, the roadside farm carts. Everything looks ready to eat. And you wonder: Is it that gorgeous? That idyllic? That delicious?

Why We Wrote This

This summer’s Tour de France has come and gone. But memories of cycling through Provence will stay vivid for a long time.

Friend, it is.

But Provence is also not as it seems. It’s not as sleepy or unpeopled as it appears on postcards. A recent visit – a modest attempt to quit “missing out” – revealed countless places and people as newfangled and surprising as anywhere, ancient architecture notwithstanding. Many had perhaps heeded their own yearnings and moved to Provence from far away. In Roussillon, we bought a scarf from a Scottish woman, and the evening before we’d met a woman who’d emigrated 30 years ago from Amsterdam.

“Why?” we asked.

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