Hidden at the end of an extraordinarily long avenue of plane trees on the outskirts of St Rémy, there is an 18th century château that has functioned as a hotel since the 1950’s. We were lucky enough to stumble across this sublime establishment many years ago and have repeatedly stayed there whenever possible.
The long approach to the château provides ample opportunity to contemplate the beauty of the gracious 18th century facade. We usually arrive at the end of the day and the shuttered windows are bathed in the late afternoon Provençale light as if the entire building has been lit for a private and mysterious theatre production. The stone balustrades throw serpentine shadows across the terrace and glacial white swans float nonchalantly on the canal that leads out across the park. The setting is verdant and history abounds. The crunch of gravel announces our arrival as we park in front of the stables and hurriedly unpack our luggage, eager to settle in to our favourite room once again.
The absolute charm of this hotel lies in the haphazard way in which it is run. The service is casual to say the least and maintenance has merely been a vague idea deferred to some time in the unknowable future. The result of this very fortuitous laissez faire is a château which has remained in absolutely original condition save a few rudimentary 1950’s plumbing additions to provide basic ensuites for the bedrooms. The terracotta tiles move under our feet as we ascend the curving staircase to reach the bedrooms.The painted shutters are faded and open with a familiar creak as we let light into the room. The soft yellows and greens of the wall colours were applied in the 19th century I suspect but are entirely correct and beautifully weathered. The gloomy hallway outside our door leads to a spacious and once opulent sitting room where a large 19th century billiard table lurks in a corner like a four legged beast. The furniture is sparse and worn but a delightful mix of different styles and periods -  flotsam and jetsam discarded by time.
An early evening ritual upon arriving is a walk through the rambling and similarly unkempt gardens to the centuries old stone pool where enormous and prehistoric looking carp break the surface of the black water and disappear again into the mossy and murky depths. An uninhabited dove cote leans into the undergrowth beyond the bamboo and a wild and thorny rose has nearly engulfed the park bench where we always sit.
Several years ago we arrived at this treasured haven to find that it had been sold, redecorated and ruined. The knowledge that the indefinable beauty of this remarkable place had been disfigured by modernisation and an over enthusiastic decorator with chintz cushions, fresh paint and brightly coloured plant pots was heart breaking. Although we no longer physically visit this adored château I am very grateful to be able to visit the memories of it as it once was, dishevelled but unequivocally beautiful - an eternal beauty somehow captured by the perfect imperfection.
This beautiful 19th century Louis 15 style console struck me in a similar way when I stumbled across it in an antique shop full of glittering gilt and polished chandeliers. It stood alone against a white wall with spellbinding restrained elegance. The graceful lines of the Louis 15 legs are poised and beautiful yet it is unassuming at the same time with its humble painted finish and wooden top. The paint is peeling in places exposing the wonderful carving beneath and the few marks on the wooden marquetry surface tell its story. Nobody has tried to refresh the paint or replace its top - its integrity is intact. It is simple, authentic and utterly beautiful.