They con­trolled a net­work of farms like ours. Le Pey­rouri­er was par­tic­u­lar­ly well placed with its fer­tile low lands between rolling hills and the riv­er that could car­ry floats of cere­als to Fre­jus. There sail­ships would car­ry on to the Holy Land.

The farm expand­ed like a mush­room over gen­er­a­tions. Provence rooms and barns shel­tered the many sea­son­al work­ers asso­ci­at­ed with the vine­yard and sheep flocks.

Old mul­ber­ry trees remind us of the silk­worm pro­duc­tion era. But, in the last thir­ty years the suc­ces­sive own­ers neglect­ed farm­ing and even liv­ing there. An emp­ty slum­ber crept over the place. We dis­cov­ered it in Spring 1995 and fell under the charm of its but­ter­flies. We brought it back to its orig­i­nal beau­ty with a blend of mod­ern taste and com­fort.

Guests from around the world enjoy the calm, the old trees, a stroll along the riv­er or a hike through the hills. In the sun­set they can dream of the time the Tem­plars were bless­ing the har­vest.