Postcard from Aix-en-Provence

Aix-en-Provence is a city that invites you to slow down. Between its shaded squares, fountains, and the legacy of Cézanne, it offers a glimpse of Provençal life best enjoyed without a plan.

We have been curious about Aix for some time, but from our usual base in Nice it always felt a stretch to make the journey. Taking the train from Paris to the Riviera gave us the perfect excuse to finally stop off and see what this town was all about.

We arrived with few expectations. I pictured sandstone-coloured walls, narrow streets opening into wide squares where you could pause for a glass of wine, and a more relaxed way of life. I’ll admit, I was also hoping for endless lavender fields at the height of the season, but didn’t see any hint of purple.

Aix is, I suppose, as small as I imagined. The old town is compact and pretty, a maze of narrow lanes and sun-warmed stone. The main streets are lined with high-end shops – bigger brands than I expected, even an Apple store – while the independent boutiques hide on quieter side streets, rewarding those who take the time to explore.

In my wandering, I stumbled across a couple of record shops, an unexpected surprise that I’ll come back to in a future piece. For now, I was happy to simply meander, dipping into shaded squares, following the sound of water from one fountain to the next. There are so many fountains in Aix they almost become part of its rhythm – each with its own character, each adding to the sense of calm.

It wasn’t as photogenic as I expected but that’s not necessarily a mark against the town. Maybe it’s my fondness for open views and calm seas that didn’t connect with this inland town. The ‘hero’ image for Aix - the large Rotonde fountain was surrounded by taxis and delivery vans when I stopped to pap it so it would require some time and thought to really get that shot.

We stopped for a simple lunch – a pizza, a salad, and a bottle of rosé, sitting outside in the warmth of the sunshine. Exactly the kind of meal you want in the South of France, unfussy but perfect in the moment.

This is, of course, Cézanne’s town. His name is everywhere – signposts pointing to the Atelier Cézanne, the recently opened Cézanne House, and galleries dedicated to his work. You can sense how this landscape shaped his art. I wanted to see more, but in the heat of summer it felt easier to stay outside than wander through galleries. Another time, perhaps.

The hotel – Villa Gallici – was beautiful, though its charm was its own rather than something tied to Aix. Still, its gardens made a perfect retreat after long walks through the city.

Would I go back? Yes, I think so – though perhaps I’d give it longer next time. Aix feels like a place that reveals itself slowly, rewarding those who linger. On another trip, I’d like to see more of its art, explore beyond the centre, and maybe even time it with the lavender in bloom.

For now, I leave with memories of soft light on golden walls, the sound of fountains, and the easy pace of a town that doesn’t rush for anyone.