bastide-moustiers.com), and vowed that someday I'd take a beautiful woman there. Eighteen years later, I finally did. It was worth the wait—and the ridiculous tab. Our suite's bed was like a cloud; the hours-long fixed menu, cooked with herbs and vegetables from the garden and pigeon shot that day, kicked off with flutes of 1998 Krug Rosé, was a revelation. The next morning, my wife and I played pétanque out back with the chefs, then ambled around the medieval town and up into the breezy hills. The place was so seductive that I ditched plans to monkey up limestone walls at a famous sport-climbing hot spot nearby. Instead, I just sat in the sun rubbing my belly, picturing myself old and content and vacationing like this often.
Filed To: Italy