French Revolution

BUT WHAT DO WE DO HERE? ” The West Vancouver couple that own this home are used to hearing this from first-time visitors to their remote villa in the small hamlet of Cornillon (pop. 1,000) located in the Gard region of southern France. The more urban metropolises of Nice and Cannes are both a fair distance away and there’s nary a Starbucks in sight.

Soon enough, their guests develop a taste for the petite cups of coffee
at the local café, and grow accustomed to wine-soaked, mulit-course lunches that sprawl out over entire afternoons—with a lounge by the
pool in between. By day three, a full-fledged love affair with la vie en rose has begun.

It was just such a romance that drew the couple to the area nine years ago. A few brief sojourns to Provence had them convinced it was time to have a more permanent destination in the area, and after searching
both sides of the Rhone River (which separates Gard from more touristy Provence), they discovered a 220-year-old majestic stone villa for
sale—a coup for them. “These days there aren’t a lot of stone mas
left in Southern France,” he says. “People are finding half an old barn with three walls and building a house within it, just to gain the stone work.” They bought the property immediately.

The exterior screamed old France, with its cobblestone entranceway
and a small turret gracing one corner of the former seigneur’s estate. Unfortunately, the interior had been robbed of such charm due to a series of bad renovations over the centuries. Despite its size (6,500 square feet) the house featured just three tiny bedrooms and one bathroom lodged in the turret (ah, the French). The kitchen was closed off and cramped, and the lower level and its wine caves had declined into serious disrepair.

Working with architect Didier Leduc, who hails from the neighbouring village of Goudargues, the couple created a more open floor plan that connected the kitchen with the sejour, an arched-ceiling living space where they spend much of their time. The kitchen got a complete overhaul and now features a made-for-a-party six-burner Smeg range from Italy and roomy work island topped in granite. The small water closet in the turret was taken out to make way for a cozy den with a wood-beamed fireplace.

The former wine caves became stone-cool bedrooms with their own ensuites, one a coveted space for visitors for its terrace overlooking
the vineyards and ready access to the pool. Because he often works remotely from his “European office,” the homeowner uses a fifth bedroom for his workspace, equipped with high-speed Internet access—and a queen bed when guests necessitate.

Thick stone walls and traditional shutters protect the main floors from the scorching heat of the summer. “We often fight an inner battle,”
says the homeowner. “Having gone through a long, dreary Vancouver winter, we want sunshine, but the summer sun is so intense here, you have to force yourself to close the shutters.”

That battle is avoided by decamping for the cool, shaded terrace overlooking the vineyards and preparing a dinner, usually grilled meats from their favourite butcher in the village, on a wood-fired grill. Les Canadiens, as they’re known in their tiny hamlet, have become fast friends with the neighbouring winery owners at Domaine Challias, who tend to the property’s handful of olive trees while they’re away. (The couple hopes to one day press their own olive oil.)
As for Canadian visitors to their property, they quickly slide into slow service, lazy market afternoons and long strolls through the surrounding vineyards. It seems that first seigneur here understood the magic of the area as well. A Latin phrase, inscribed on the turret in centuries past, perfectly sums up the experience; it translates as: “This little corner of the earth, more than any other, makes me smile.” wl

See SOURCES.