After a particularly hilarious Uber ride from Marseille airport – one that involved getting lost down a dirt road in the woods during a storm (with a driver who didn’t speak English) – it was a relief to finally reach the beautiful entrance of Villa La Coste. And an even bigger relief to be handed a cold glass of Chateau la Coste rosé.
The hotel sits at the top of a hill overlooking its very own vineyard, and even in the downpour that was happening as we arrived, the valley views are truly spectacular. After a short wait in the lobby – just long enough to check out the Louise Bourgeois sketches casually hung next to us – we were shown to our room (well, villa).
I’m not exaggerating when I say that my entire central London apartment could fit into this villa. In fact, it could probably fit into the bathroom alone. Once you go through your private olive-tree-lined courtyard and through the glass doors, you find yourself standing in what is basically an Architectural Digest spread.
The open-plan room is immediately welcoming – contemporary without being cold or impersonal. Past the large living room, behind the panoramic windows, is an equally large balcony with the same incredible view as the lobby, except the torrential rain had been replaced with what was possibly the best sunset I’ve ever seen.
After some brief unpacking in the large walk-in wardrobe, Mr Smith and I decided the most sensible thing to do was to order room service. Seeing as we had a dining table that could seat about six people we thought we might as well use it.
It should be mentioned that there’s not much around Villa la Coste that’s easy to get to, which didn’t bother us one bit – once you’re there the idea of leaving is actually quite upsetting.
Much like everything else, the room service menu was simple, well curated and, most importantly, came with plenty of French butter. After dinner, a substantial amount of time was spent in the vast marble bathtub listening to Django Reinhardt and drinking more rosé. All in all it was a perfect way to spend our first night in France.
Waking up in a linen-draped four-poster bed wasn’t anything to complain about either, nor was being able to see the Provencal countryside without even having to get out of it. The sun was back, and after breakfast in our villa we were firmly committed to spending the rest of the day by the pool.
The minute you step outside here you’re immediately confronted with all the incredible smells the French countryside has to offer, which was only made better by the previous night’s rain-washing. The pool is hidden behind rows of cypress trees that cast stripy shadows across the lawn as the sun moves over you, and once you’ve claimed your white pool cabana you’re all set for the day.
It was around this time that something shocking happened: We saw other people. We realised it had been close to 24 hours before we’d seen anyone other than the friendly, rosé-bearing hotel staff. Between the sprawling grounds and the privacy of your own villa, you can easily forget that you’re actually in a public place.
Later, we had to pry ourselves away from our much loved cabana because we had a pressing engagement at the spa – it’s a tough life down in Provence. After looking through the impressive list of various massages and body scrubs we settled on mud treatments which essentially involved a lovely little French woman covering us in an array of different coloured mud and wrapping us in muslin. Not normally how I spend my Sunday afternoons, but thoroughly relaxing and enjoyable all the same.
That night we had dinner at Louison, one of the two restaurants on the property and the one that was recommend by the concierge. If, gun to my head, I had to pick one thing about our stay that wasn’t completely perfect I’d say it was this. The restaurant is set in a glass cube surrounded by water, and while it’s architecturally incredible, it’s not the most comfortable place to have dinner (though I suspect it’s more welcoming during the day).
The food was delicious and as artistic as everything else at the hotel, but unlike the room service menu it was definitely not simple – we had multiple courses of beautiful things served in crab shells and on sunflowers. But the lack of music or atmosphere in the bright, echoey room made it feel as though we had to speak in hushed tones. There was one other customer, an American woman dining alone, who said ‘Please make some noise because it’s so damn quiet in here!’ by way of introduction.
It’s not often, though, that you have the privilege of staying in a hotel attached to an art gallery, so on our last day the only thing left to do was visit Chateau la Coste. After a walk through the vineyard you find yourself on a kind of art safari where you come face to face with works by Richard Serra, Alexander Calder and Ai Weiwei to name just three superstars – not to mention the huge Louise Bourgeois spider crouching over the water on your way in. It’s definitely worth parting with the pool cabana for.
And so, with one final glass of that homegrown rosé at sunset, that was the end of our magical stay at Villa la Coste. A work of art all by itself.
Find out more about Villa La Coste or explore our complete collection of hotels in Provence.
Zoë Zimmer is an artist and designer whose work spans fashion and portrait photography, graphic art projects – including album artwork for major labels – and most recently, textile design for her womenswear brand the 87.
