The start was Chateau La Coste (don't think Lacoste clothing brand), just north of Aix-en-Provence. Irish hotelier Patrick 'Paddy' McKillen bought the Estate in the early 2000s and created a hotel complex within it.
That does not do credit to this place, now supervised by Paddy McKillen's sister, Maya. The Estate is a large vineyard. The original hotel accommodation is Villa La Coste on the top of a hill, a gated pish posh affair where guests are transported in 4x4s down to the centre of life. Latter contains the very acceptable Auberge La Coste, with some rooms looking out on to the vineyard - from here you can walk two minutes to take a terraced breakfast, or in the evening pass by the bar, enjoying (it wouldn't be Irish otherwise) a pint of Guinness.
The Estate is open to both hotel guests and day visitors. There are various restaurant options - I will leave you to your own research if you are interested - and an all day open bar where one afternoon we enjoyed the Trouble Notes, an accomplished folk rock trio doing an audition gig for a show - they had nothing to prove.
Naturally, wine tastings are available, but the highlight of the Estate is the art trail, all 40 plus installations of it, including pavilions, with works from Tadao Ando, Frank Gehry, Tracey Emin, Richard Rogers, Louise Bourgeois, and many more - even an impressive Bob Dylan railway carriage. Yes, you can do a pipsy half a dozen of them after a good lunch, but for the full set it is a near three-hour walk, and trek not stroll as the trail is up and around a hillside. Having given ourselves the luxury of a three night stay, we were able to split the walk into three chunks, which meant that we could avoid the tick box and stop to have a proper look at each exhibit.
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Onward down to Aix. We just asked for a taxi, but got a chap who turned out to be Maya McKillen's personal chauffeur when she is on site. Into this small, delightful City, with destination a guest house in the Quartier Mazarin, a grid of streets off the Cours Mirabeau - see below - containing 17th/18th century town houses. Our place was full of the owner's eclectic collection of art and furniture. Apart from the convenient location and relaxed feel, there was the joy of closing the front door on way out - come and go as you want - and encountering forty ear piece-clad visitors off a cruise ship (Marseiile), toiling up the street behind a bored looking guide. Did they think we lived here? Horribly arrogant, but hope so.
The 'culture' is also centred in the Mazarin. Star turn is the Hotel Caumont, an 18th century mansion restored to become an arts centre, whose summer exhibition comprises around 100 works by Toulouse Lautrec, with a poster theme pervading. There is also the Musee Granet - more art - and the 13th century Gothic Eglise Saint-Jean-de Malte.
To describe the Aix ambience, I need to pull out an adjective that might be age-inappropriate for this writer: 'cool'. There, I've said it, but the description is apt. Shops bars and restaurants within a tight centre, and once again (see my recent Turin piece) the enhancing presence of civilised university students.
Many of the bars can be found on the Cours Mirabeau, a c. 450 metre pedestrianised boulevard that is home to a thrice-weekly market. In fact, most of the centre is pedestrianised, adding to its attraction, but electric minibuses provide gentle service to those needing local transport. A morning stroll up the shopping streets on the opposite side to the Mazarin leads you Aix's Cathedral, which mixes Gothic, Romanesque and Baroque styles.
And after the Cathedral, it's time for lunch, as of course taken very seriously by the French but not to excess. You could really rock up anywhere, but we hit the jackpot with L'Archeveche, just round the corner. Impressed by food, service and location, we decided to chat to the manager. He turned out to be Senegalese, and he wasn't the manager, he was the owner (yep, check one's profiling). He enthusiastically explained that he had honed his front-of-house craft working at the Gavroche and Waterside Inn, where military efficiency of service was required, now carried forward by him in L'Archeveque, but with a relaxed, cheerful team. The place was so good that we went back in the evening.
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Those who prefer train to plane will be pleased to know that Aix has a TGV station on the outskirts, but our destination for the last leg was Marseille, another taxi hop, undertaken in just under an hour. When we had told people in Aix we were going on to Marseille we were responded to with furrowed brows, similar to how my Italian relatives perceived London - tutti ladri (all thieves) as one uncle said.
Luckily as Londoners we were sceptical over this prejudice, and anyway we had spent a day in Marseiille last year. Sure it is racially 'diverse', and sure there are hinterland districts where you would be mad to venture after dark, but the centre is great in a number of ways. The 'centre' is a U-shaped port marina (Vieux Port). Wrapped around it are restaurants and bars, with retail outlets (not a destination attraction) and hotels further back.
At the mouth of the port are two forts. The main one, Fort Saint Jean, is now part of a complex called Musee des Civilisations de l' Europe et de la Mediterranee (Mucem). One brilliant geographical/ethnographical exhibition, and another on motherhood that was a touch feminist heavy-handed for our tastes.
Fort Saint Jean is in the Le Panier. district. You can access it on one of the two Petit Train routes - otherwise it's an uphill slog (Ubers are available). In addition to the Cathedral and Mucem there is also the Vielle Charite, a C18 former 'hospital' for the care of beggars and the poor, laid out in cloisters style - today it is an arts and culture centre, amenable to gentle wandering around as one dodges the heat.
The attraction I have missed out is the Abbaye Saint Victoire. This sits impressively on a hill overlooking the City, and for tourists is accessed via the other Petit Train route. We ascended last year on our day trip, but found mayhem on arriving, essentially from the train service not being able to cope with the mass of passengers - staff in virtual panic bellowing at people to stay in a queue. We turned straight round, and this time gave it a miss.
But the return Petit Train journey into town leads me seamlessly to eating out in Marseille. As we reached sea level last year, we passed the Vieux Port 'Place Aux Huiles', seen on outward journey. Such was our enthusiasm for exploring the network of eateries in this area, we jumped off the train early, exciting complaints from the train staff (and I thought that the French admired failure to conform). Retracing the hundred metres or so of route, we started exploring....and for some reason drew a complete dud - no idea why.
This year, with more time in which to research, we did better, and of course if you love seafood, Marseille is for you - oysters at 2 Euros each.
However, now is the moment to drop a turd into this commentary. Literally. As we sat on the terrace at one restaurant, protected from the evening sun by a leafy tree, my partner's plate received a sudden accretion. Paralysed by the event we did not scream out, but studied the deposit and started a bizarre discussion over what the bird might have been, while calling the waiter...
...who in true Gallic fashion did not share our trauma, removing the plate with a polite apology, replacing it with a plate of fresh food, and positioning an umbrella over our table to prevent a recurrence, a case of shutting the stable door after the bird had defecated.
Why we did not make an enormous fuss I do not know. We have a habit of holding hospitality outlets to account for below par service. Perhaps the shock did get to us, or maybe it was the French sense of indifference, where 'desole/ee' means in practice mildly sorry, that for once drew the wind out of our sails.
Anyway, that is the best I can do for an extraordinary event on a fun trip taking in three distinct, but fascinating in their own way, locations.
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The author is a writer, speaker, historian, occasional tour guide, and former Managing Partner of a City law firm