Valbonne: Little Town, It’s A Quiet Medieval Village

There are times when we may forget we live in a medieval village in the South of France. The same one that Makenna visited on her very first day in France after moving to the country, site unseen. Thankfully, her father had been, and had given her ample warning of its cuteness. Otherwise, she admits she might have been overwhelmed and felt the need to leave immediately. Instead, she burst into song as I walked by the fountain.

In that moment, she admits felt just like Belle. Except she was thrilled with the community, rather than bored by her small, provincial town.

Around Valbonne, Makenna and Chris are known as the crazy, tall, Americans who opened a cooking school in some famous person’s house. As such, they happen to be well-known around the village. It is almost impossible to walk through and not happen upon a familiar face that greets them, a fact you will become comfortable with during your time at La Peetch. The community is so wonderful and open, you may find yourself encouraged and inspired by their friendly discussions.

Some days it can be difficult for the team to remember that this is our home. It’s not that anyone actually forgets that they live here*,* that would be basically impossible. But COVID—as many of us well know—had a way of removing the joy of living in a village with minuscule lanes, where physical distancing to slow the spread was near impossible. A village that, without its lively central square of five central restaurants (which were closed for six months), can feel utterly dead at times.

Alas, and likely unsurprisingly, the pandemic sucked a lot of the quaint joy of living in Valbonne. This beautiful, storied town that is over 500 years old, with its quiet nights and beautiful, sunshine-filled days. But there are some nights when we are adamantly reminded about the little joys that come with living here. One of those nights happened to Makenna recently.

At 10 til 7pm, I meandered from my village home/perch overlooking the park with the burbling fountain, and headed into town to acquire a bit of wine. (Two bottles was my mission, I came back with three.) On my short journey of 3 minutes door to door, I waved and said “Bonsoir!” to no less than 20 people. After so much time masked up, it is still very different to see full, smiling faces on town walks. A fact that brings me peace and anxiety in equal measure.

I stopped to chat with the chefs in the Moroccan restaurant. Mentioned to the kitchen store that I needed more aprons for the cooking school, she said she could have them in-store before the weekend. And finally settled at “Cave de Mary” run by…yes…Mary. A retired sommelier who isn’t quite ready to be retired, so she opened a cave.

We spoke to each other. Mask free. For the first time in two years. It was a revelation. She bagged my bottles, and I made my trek home. Full of love and joy, it was the joy that caught me. It was the first time I actually had felt joy in two years. Unfettered, unwavering joy.

And that feels worthy of its own celebration, too.

Recent months have made the idea of “normal” life in this wonderful, picturesque village in the French countryside a true dream to wander back into. This community is something out of a fairytale, and we are incredibly grateful to be a part of it.