Traveling during the mistral is no easy feat. The notoriously cold and relentlessly fierce northwesterly wind that blows from France’s heartland into the Mediterranean Sea can reach up to 20 miles per hour, last for several days (the record is 65 hours straight), and buffet everything in its path when it peaks in the winter and spring. Knowing that, you might wonder: Who in their right mind goes to the South of France in November? Me, that’s who.
As Condé Nast Traveler’s self-appointed France correspondent, I took it upon myself last year to head to the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region and report on the joys of going in the offseason. I had hoped to spend sunny, crowdless days exploring the area’s hot spots: the wine cellars of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the painter Cézanne’s old atelier in Aix-en-Provence, and the harbor restaurants of Marseilles. But then I got off the high-speed train at Avignon, my home base for the week, and the mistral knocked me off my feet and forced me back indoors. “Going out?” the mistral said, laughing. “I think not.”
And so I spent most of my five nights in town staying at home in the cozy embrace of one of my new favorite Airbnbs in the South of France: this renovated apartment in Avignon. It’s a supremely chic space, simple yet overflowing with charismatic texture. The cream-colored stone walls, the high ceilings done in dark wood, linen fabrics on the sofa and queen-size bed in the bedroom, and woven seats exuded a strong sense of place; this is an apartment in an ages-old city with great history, save the baskets from Ikea. But the induction stovetop, Nespresso machine, dishwasher, flat-screen TV equipped with Chromecast, Wi-Fi, washing machine, electric towel warmer, and combination air conditioner-heater—thank goodness for it—kept this abode firmly in the 21st century. So well-appointed is the space that the host even put together a magazine-like guide on how to operate the appliances. Très chic!
A few things to note: There’s no elevator in the building and this Airbnb is located up a flight of stairs on the first floor, which actually means it’s on the second floor in American terms. (Remember: the French count the ground floor as “zero.”) The apartment, though well laid out, is still rather small; I’d only recommend this for solo travelers and couples. Families might feel cramped, but hey, Junior can always sleep on the comfortable couch. I certainly did after a night of watching French game shows and training myself to better understand the language.
