No part of France is more compelling than Provence, or richer in scenery, art, and the sense of history. The landscape has an epic and timeless quality, very Mediterranean. Hills terraced with vines and olives roll to blue horizons; the warm air is scented with jasmine or lavender; a lone cypress stands by an old stone barn, like a painting by Van Gogh, who loved this land so well.

The light is amazingly clear; the climate is dry and sunny in summer, and mild in winter (except when the Mistral blows in bitter gusts). Large parts of Provence are still surprisingly unspoilt, and not too expensive.

Provence takes in the six south east departments of France from Nimes to Italy (the coastal stretch around Nice, the Cote d'Azur or Riviera, is treated below as a separate region). From pre-Roman times, Provence has known foreign intruders, but has 'always welcomed and assimilated them.

The Romans left mighty remains - the aqueduct of the Pont du Gard, the theatres and amphitheatres of Aries, Nimes, and Orange. The people some?times use their own ancient dialect, Provencal. Many ancient villages are perched on the crests of hills; the old houses have heavy stone walls, and a dark polished wood.

The largest town, though not the most typical, is the great seaport of Marseilles in some ways more eastern-Mediterranean than French. The port, and le Corbusier's skyscraper, are worth a visit.   

Aix, to the north is a quiet university town; there are some good museums and stately houses. The most inspiring part of inland Provence is the lower Rhone Valley around Avignon. Here the ruined castle of Les Baux, where the troubadours paid court in the Middle Ages, sits on the crest of its parched hills - as romantic a place as you will find anywhere.

Aristocratic Aries glows with a sense of the past, and its dark-eyed girls really are as pretty as they are said to be.

Avignon, with its famous bridge and its massive Palace of the Popes, is a chic and gracious town, the centre of France's richest fruit-growing area. All round, the variety and interest seems inexhaustible.

You can visit Daudet's mill near Aries, or the surging Fountain of Vaucluse where Petrarch sighed for Laura. Big new atomic and hydro-electric centres on the Rhone, at Mondragon and Marcoule, lie close to Roman Orange and the lovely River Ceze, where you can bathe in deep rock-pools.   

In  the hinter-land lies the snowy peak of Mont Ventoux at 6,273 ft, with gores of the Verdon, 2,000 ft deep, the finest in Europe.

By contrast, the marshy plain of the Camargue, down by the Rhone Estuary, is one of the strangest corners of Europe, a nature reserve full fl horses, bulls, flamingos, and wild birds of all sorts. The area is deal for a riding or nature holidays. Its main town, Saintes Maries, Is the centre of a big gypsy pilgrimage each May 24.

The long coast of Provence, from Marseilles via the naval base of Toulon to the Esterel, is in many ways more pleasant than the more famous stretch from Cannes  via Nice to Menton. It is far less urbanized, and in many parts it is just as beautiful, notably the deep rocky coves to the west of  the little fishing port of Cassis; the Cote des Maures, where wooded hills slope steeply to little bays, the Ramatuelle Peninsula; the strip just north of Ste Maxime, where gaunt umbrella pines stand out on rocks beside the dazzling sea; and the weird coast of the Esterel, with its savage red cliffs.

Every where there are fine sandy. The best resorts, small or medium-sized, for a family holiday are possibly Cassis, Bandol, Giens, Aiguebelle, Cavalaire, Ste Maxime, Les Issambres, Agay, Miramar, and Theoule. Just inland there are some enchanting old Provencal hill-villages Bormes, Ramatuelle, Gassin, Grimaud; still largely unspoilt despite the vogue among film stars and intellectuals for buying up old houses and villas all around.

The only really fashionable resort on all this coast is St Tropez. Unlike Cannes or Nice, it is garish and bohemian, a tiny fishing port, thronged all summer with modish sophisticates. St Tropez is colourful and restless and great fun.

If you want an experience even more bizarre, but also more contrived, go to the island of Bendor, near Bandol owned and run by Paul Ricard, the aperitif magnate, as a kind of avant-garde holiday camp. Provencal cooking is rich and distinguished, strongly flavoured with olive oil, wild herbs, and garlic. It is a subtle blend of fishermen's and mountain cooking.

Of the fish dishes, the greatest is bouillabaisse (an elaborate fish stew, with garlic), followed by the somewhat similar bourride, and loup au fenouil (bass grilled with fennel). All are expensive. Soups de poissons (fish soup with garlic) and soupe de pistou (vegetable soup with garlic) are both much cheaper, and excellent.

Beef or lamb are often succulently grilled with herbs on open wood or charcoal fires, or served marinated in stews (baeuf en daube and the rest). Ratatouille is an unusual vegetable dish.

Fruit is plentiful try the sweet pink Cavaillon melons. There are some excellent full-bodied wines from the lower Rhone Valley, both red (including Chateauneuf-du-Pape and Gigondas) and rose (Tavel). Some of the dry white wines from the coastal regions are also good; Cassis, Bandol, Pierrefeu, and others.

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