The South of France was like stepping onto a movie set; everything felt so glamourous.

When we traipsed off the train in Cannes, it was almost too easy to fall into the lifestyle of the quaint, french resort town. Every morning was spent lazily, draped across the furniture in the den sipping coffee and checking emails until hunger took over. After preparing our breakfasts of quiche and fresh mango, we’d open the big french doors and take our plates out to the glorious balcony that overlooked Rue d’Antibes (the main street in Cannes).
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Around early afternoon we’d embark on adventures for the day. We hopped a train to Monaco and picnicked in the park and to Nice to link arms and chasse down the boardwalk. Sitting in beachside chairs facing the Cote d’Azur, we imagined the luxurious lives awaiting others in the oceanfront penthouse suites above. (Fear not, between popping into the shops and exploring the alleys, we found plenty of time for wines and cheeses.)
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Each night the sunsets appeared to be painted onto the sky and they echoed across the pristine panes of the windows that paneled the romantic buildings lining every avenue. The south of France is as beautiful as we hoped. We finished the days almost just as we had started them: on the balcony. Wine in hand and the aromas of dinner wafting through the french doors that lead back into our charming AirBNB apartment.
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As a million stars filled the sky and were uninterrupted by any big city lights, all I could think about was how perfect the easygoing nature of the south of France had been for us. Paris was calling and after a few days we’d be thrust back into the familiar routine of fast-paced traveling. For now, it was okay to take it slow. After all, traveling isn’t about how many extravagant attractions you see or how many trip-advisor recommended restaurants you eat in. It’s about the moments; it’s about the experience; it’s about the little things.

In the long run, they’re what you remember most.