The smell of sweet lavender, the sound of tiny pebbles crunching beneath your sandals, the taste of chilled Rosé wine… I have such fond memories of lounging away warm summer afternoons in the Provençal garden of my parent’s mas they rented in St. Remy de Provence. We had many outdoor meals at their stone table (covered in Provençal fabric), and enjoyed cooling down from the blistering summer sun in their cerulean blue pool. The garden was by no means overly manicured, in fact it oozed with that carefree charm Provence is so well known for: the random stone pot planted with lavender, an ochre urn bursting with sun ripe tomatoes, an old olive…