What is Provence? Officially, there is no French department or administative region with that name. Yet when you hear the word, you think of oleanders, olives, and lavender. You think of a slower of pace of life, a Sunday lunch under the shade of plane trees, a café crème at a sidewalk café, or a long walk through a forest of oak and chestnut trees. You may even think of a village clinging to the side of a mountain, a church tower with a wrought-iron campanile where the mistral finds little obstruction, or a narrow cobble-stoned street.  And, finally, when you're marvelling at the rocky inlets of the Mediterranean sea, or relaxing on the beach of Pampelonne, near Saint-Tropez, you can also say: "I'm in Provence!"

The village where I live is listed in the Michelin guide of the Côte d'Azur, not in that of Provence. This puzzled me. When I think of the Côte d'Azur, I always imagine Cannes, or Monaco, or Antibes, not the tranquil and low-key surroundings I find myself in. I took this dilemma to my neighbor; he's eighty-five and has lived here all his life. "Mais non," he exclaimed, here we are in Provence. He waved his hand: the Côte d'Azur is over there, beyond St. Raphael. The people of Michelin know nothing. But where is Provence exactly, I asked. My neighbor made an even wider gesture. He mentioned towns: Arles, Aix-en-Provence, Avignon, Digne, Draguignan, Fréjus. It was a random selection in a large area.

Later I consulted Larousse, a French encyclopedia. It discussed the historical changes of the area known as Provence, narrowing it down, after WWII, to the County of Avignon and that of Nice. That explanation did not give me clear geographical bounderies. Finally, the word P.A.C.A. sprang out as a lead to what could be considered  Provence. P.A.C.A. stands for the administrative region of "Provence Alpes Côte d'Azur," consisting of six departments: Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, Hautes-Alpes, Alpes-Maritimes, Var, Bouche-du-Rhône, and Vaucluse (see map). This is a vast region, of contrasts and connections, of snow-topped mountains and mondaine sea resorts, of shepherds and yacht captains, of cork oak and palm trees, of a simple beef stew and an elaborate bouillabaisse.

So finally I found an answer in this P.A.C.A., less romantic and more diverse than I had imagined. Because for me Provence is a lush vision, that hides its complexity under a veil of simple delights: the red colors of the Esterel mountains, the taste of tapenade, the scent of rosemary, the cadence of the Provençal accent, and, above all, the mistral, the fierce wind that reminds us that paradise only lasts that long!