Turns out whiling away the summer in a big villa in the south of France is a good as it sounds.
In truth, perhaps the trip was a desire to revisit the follies of my youth. A heady cocktail of summer memories slinking around the Cote d'Azur and a few Bridgette Bardot films lead to a vision of a lazy summer doing nothing with agreeable persons. My vision was all lengthy shaded lunches breaking up languid days and sultry nights spent shuffling along the quayside. So I gathered my peeps, found a charming villa in a hillside town above St. Tropez and settled in for a summer long lounge.