A Villa of Their Own

Can five couples find happiness sharing a villa for a week in a small village in Provence? Mais oui!

When friends and acquaintances were told of our plan to do just that, the universal reaction was, “Are you crazy?” They then reminded us that you never really know people until you travel with them--and then it’s too late.

Undeterred, we plunged ahead. Did our grand adventure turn out to be all we’d hoped? Absolutely. Were we all still speaking by week’s end? We were, in fact, a well functioning family. There were no cross words, no quibbling (publicly, at least) about who had the better accommodations, no hurt feelings when one or more couples opted out of some planned excursion to spend time alone or go elsewhere.

We had started our odyssey as six couples, but an accident in Barcelona en route forced one couple to return home to get medical attention. Old friends all--save for two spouses who have been embraced by the group--we include journalists, a historian, an FBI agent and an attorney. Recently, we had started a tradition, gathering each year in Seattle for a long Fourth of July break. And some of us had traveled abroad in pairs. But we were well aware that is quite different from being under the same roof 24 hours a day.

Finding the villa of our dreams wasn’t easy. For weeks, we pored over catalogs solicited from agencies from Massachusetts to Oregon, answered ads in newspapers and magazines including the New Yorker and San Francisco magazine, scoured the Internet and compared notes by telephone. After all this searching, two of us, working with different agents, zeroed in on the same property about the same time. Our fellow travelers decided to rely largely on faith and friendship.

To make it work, we wanted each couple to have as much privacy as possible. Our ideal villa would have six bedrooms and six baths. (OK, ugly Americans). This quickly eliminated 90% of available properties. There were dozens of lovely looking places with pools, stately salons, baronial dining rooms and accommodations for 12, but with only half enough baths.

Having heard horror stories about villa rentals--swimming pools blanketed in algae, chicken feathers coming out of a water tap and places perched only feet above the roar of the Autoroute du Soleil--we were wary. Ultimately, our quest led us to Ashland, Ore., to At Home in France. A name plucked from a magazine ad, it’s an agency that handles only French properties and, we were assured, scouts their villas before recommending them. The amiable agent, Allyn Kaufmann, seemed to be on our wavelength. Where other agents had tried to reel us in by assuring us that we had no chance of finding 6BR/6BA, Kaufmann said it would be difficult but not impossible.

Then one day she called with good news. Though she hadn’t seen the property, she had learned of a listing for Domaine Amen, an ancient former convent in the village of Meynes. A colleague had told her it was A-1--and previous renters had made a glowing report. It sounded almost perfect: five bedrooms and a convertible den, four baths and a powder room in the main house, with another bath just outside by the pool; two bedrooms and bath in a guest house only steps away.

The owner, she told us, was a renowned French artist who, with his companion, lives on site. Ordinarily, we would have asked for references from previous tenants, but it was getting to be crunch time. The large properties tend to be booked months ahead. So, we scrutinized the photographs and the drawing of the floor plan and agreed: This was it.

Booking through At Home in France, the rental was $4,200 a week, plus a refundable $1,000 security deposit--to be paid on our return--and utilities and telephone, which came to about $150. The couple who couldn’t come paid their share out of pocket as, unlike some of us, they hadn’t opted for trip cancellation insurance. Most agents recommend it and will refer you to the Automobile Club, American Express or a travel agent handling such insurance. Because rental agencies have contracts with the property owners, monies are generally nonrefundable in case of a last-minute problem--unless the property can be re-rented.

Split six ways, Domaine Amen came out to about $700 a couple for the week. Where in France can you rent a luxury hotel room for that? And hotel rooms don’t come with garden, cherry orchard, vast public rooms and Charles-Louis La Salle, our genial host, descended, he told us, from a Gen. La Salle who fought with Napoleon.

(Currently, the guest house is not available; the villa, now expanded to sleep 14, rents from $3,580 to $7,585 a week, depending upon the season.)

*

Our adventure began on a Saturday in mid-May last year as we rendezvoused in the village of Meynes, which we reached by a minor road off Route D986, midway between Nimes and Avignon and about 15 miles from each. We came from as far north as Seattle, as far south as San Diego. Three couples flew into Milan, one into Cannes; another drove down from Paris. With directions provided by Kaufmann, all found their way easily to Domaine Amen, filled with guarded anticipation.

Anticipation changed quickly to delight. La Salle, the villa owner, who speaks some English, was there to welcome us. He and his companion, Joel Schneider, occupy one wing of the villa, which has a separate entrance. They were always available when needed (as they were the day we very briefly had neither heat nor electricity nor water), but they never intruded.

By evening, there were five rental cars lined up in the villa’s gated courtyard. Each arriving couple was directed by the already entrenched guests around the side of the villa to the proper entrance, with its spacious foyer overlooking a terrace and garden. Thereafter, we dispensed with formality and took the shortcut, up a flight of stairs from the courtyard entrance.

The property had been billed by another agent as a “superb village house in the heart of the quaint village of Meynes,” only a short drive from the Roman bridge Pont du Gard and other major destinations.

That description was almost accurate. The only disappointment was the village itself, which was not the colorful town of our imaginations, with a beautiful square and little sidewalk cafes. Rather, Meynes is an unremarkable village of 3,000, many of them blue-collar workers at airports in Nimes and Marseilles.. A number appeared to be unemployed, as there was always a cluster of men, some young, sitting in the rather dreary town square.

Wandering into Meynes’ only “restaurant” on the first evening, two of our group (one a female) were greeted with steely stares. No, they didn’t serve dinner--and this was a guy place, basically just a bar. We would not spend much of our time exploring Meynes.

But Meynes did have a little newsstand, several bakeries where we would buy breakfast croissants to enjoy at the villa and a tiny store just outside our gate that offered some fresh produce and a few basic essentials (sort of a 7-Eleven, Meynes style). No shopping was necessary on check-in day, as our host had thoughtfully put in bread, wine, cheese and pate and a big basket of Provencal vegetables.

The first order of business was settling in. So how do you allot bedrooms of varying sizes and amenities and keep everyone happy? Our FBI agent solved the dilemma with two packs of playing cards. Placing a card in each room, he then asked the “ladies” to draw from identical cards. Though most of us secretly hoped for the master bedroom, which was roughly the size of a soccer field, everyone professed to be happy with the luck of the draw.

*

Our first evening set the pattern for the week. At cocktail hour, we gathered in one of several living rooms--the one overlooking the cherry orchard and the walled pool--and brought out our duty-free bottles. After a time someone suggested half-heartedly that we seek out a restaurant nearby, but there was little enthusiasm for that idea. When the kitchen cupboard yielded a package of pasta and some olive oil, we were able to create pasta a la eggplant, onion and tomatoes.

After long days of touring, we more often than not opted to eat “at home,” sometimes feasting on roast chickens or lasagna, white asparagus, sausages and cheese and crusty breads bought that afternoon at market day in one of the nearby towns. Sitting around a big square table in the dining room, we’d share the day’s adventures and plan the next day’s.

Bookkeeping was very casual. Rather than establish a household fund, we simply took turns buying food and supplies and kept track of what we’d spent. At week’s end, those who were more out of pocket were reimbursed.

There were two television sets, but, mercifully, they were upstairs in bedrooms. So after dinner there were spirited rounds of the word game Boggle, some bridge and conversation.

The accommodations were truly superb. All beds were oversized, with feather duvets. There were bedside lamps. Bathrooms were adequate to spacious, with plenty of hot water. There were even two kitchens, one of which we never used, and amenities included a washing machine (but no dryer), dishwasher and microwave.

And, yes, there was central heat, although Charles-Louis seemed quite surprised when we asked to have it activated. Limited maid service was included in the price. Closet space was adequate, linens and dishes plentiful.

The villa, which was once featured in “Architectural Digest,” is sunny and spacious, tastefully furnished in a blend of contemporary and antiques with decorator touches and Oriental rugs. Every niche holds an objet.

When Charles-Louis and Joel came for drinks on our last evening, we learned the history of the villa. The oldest part, the pigeon tower--now an enclosed stairwell leading from the dining room to an upstairs bedroom--dates from the 16th century. The property was originally a farm, and the main part of the house is 17th century. Much later, it was an orphanage run by Catholic nuns (thus, Domaine Amen). When the state took over care of its orphans after World War II, the orphanage closed. The property sat vacant for 15 years; squatters moved in and stole the fixtures.

Twelve years ago, living in Toulon and looking for a peaceful place for a home-atelier, Charles-Louis found the Domaine. Together, he and Joel restored it. They added the pool--in an area where the nuns once laundered their habits and winged headdresses. They created a grand dining room where once there were four small sleeping rooms for the sisters.

On reflection, our only regret is that we didn’t spend more time just hanging out at the villa. But there was so much to fit in--market day in beautiful Ile sur Sorgue, lunch in St. Remy-de-Provence where, by luck, the Provencal national choir also was lunching and treated us to a spontaneous mini-concert.

We walked the Van Gogh walk, visited the asylum where he was a patient, toured excavated Roman ruins and saw the Palace of the Popes at Avignon.

We took beautiful drives through vineyards and valleys, to fabled hilltop towns such as Les Baux and Fontvielle, to the picturesque village of Seguret in the Vaucluse, a postcard of cobbled streets and fountains.

One night we were the only (very pampered) guests dining at Auberge Escavarats, a charming restaurant in a centuries-old building in Remoulins, the nearest town of any size to Meynes. Remoulins, it should be noted, is also home to a Supermarche that, I confess, we frequented for household basics.

Our big splurge was a birthday celebration for one of our group. Everyone got gussied up for once, and we made the 30-minute drive to Villeneuve-les-Avignon, where we dined on squab salad, veal Roquefort and creme brulee, served by white-gloved waiters at the very beautiful La Magnaneraie in a 15th century country house.

All too quickly, the week sped by. With a last wistful tour of the villa, cameras in hand, we bade it--and each other--goodbye. Now, we are once again poring over catalogs. We plan to rent a villa in Tuscany this year. For two weeks.

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GUIDEBOOK

Chez Vous in Provence

Getting there: Best connections L.A.-Avignon are on American or AOM to Paris, then Air France to Avignon. Shoulder-season round-trip fares begin at about $630, including tax. Or take the fast TGV train from Paris to Avignon; it may be almost as fast as flying.

Getting around: Avis International, telephone (800) 331-1084; Hertz, (800) 654-3131; and Budget, (800) 527-0700, have rental car outlets at the airports and train stations in a number of Provencal cities, including Nice, Marseilles, Nimes and Avignon.

Rental agencies: Following are some companies that handle villa rentals in France. Most have Web sites where potential clients may view photographs of properties:

At Home in France, P.O. Box 643, Ashland, OR 97520; tel. (541) 488-9467, fax (541) 488-9468, fax (541) 488-9468.

Villes et Villages, 2124 Kittredge St., Suite 200, Berkeley, CA 94704; tel. (510) 559-8080, fax (510) 559-8217.

Villas and Apartments Abroad, 420 Madison Ave., Suite 1003, New York, NY 10017; tel. (800) 433-3020, fax (212) 755-8316.

Just France, 800 Lancaster Ave., Suite M-3, Berwyn, PA 19312; tel. (610) 407-9633.

For more information: French Government Tourist Office, 9454 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 715, Beverly Hills, CA 90212-2967; tel. (310) 271-6665 or (202) 659-7779 (France On Call hotline), fax (310) 276-2835.