Tucked away in the rolling hills of the Luberon Valley, far from the towering skyscrapers and incessant sirens of New York City, lies the picturesque village of Bonnieux. At first glance, it’s a scene straight off a Provençal postcard: crumbling stone houses baked golden by the sun and swallows darting between weathered shutters. Locals sipping their espresso while engaging in the French art of passionately debating Olympique de Marseille’s recent efforts on the pitch while simultaneously choosing the right brasserie for today’s plat du jour.

And yet, there’s more to this tranquil corner of the world than its cobbled streets and lavender-scented air. There’s a story of reinvention, of finding hope and meaning in a world upended by a global pandemic. It’s the story of Pierre and Jessica, a Franco-American couple who swapped the corporate life for vineyard rows, skyscrapers for views of Mt. Ventoux, and the claustrophobia of a locked-down city apartment for the liberating expanse of the Valley that surrounds us.

If I told you that a couple from New York would move to this corner of France to open a wine shop during a global health crisis, you might roll your eyes and say, “Well, of course, they did.” After all, isn’t that what people do in those books we read while fantasizing about a simpler life? In fact, Jessica had recently finished reading Peter Mayle’s "A Year in Provence," a book that, like so many of us, had her daydreaming of quiet vineyards, village markets, and long, languid lunches under the shade of plane trees. So, when New York’s COVID restrictions made it feel like they were starring in their own episode of Survivor: Urban Edition, they started asking that familiar question: What if we just… left?

And so, they did.

Pierre, of course, had an advantage. Being French, he had a network of friends and family to lean on. His connection to the land runs deep, rooted (if you’ll forgive the pun) in the soil that sustains their business. Jessica, for her part, was no stranger to reinvention. After years of running a family office in New York, managing both its finances and personalities (a job, I’m sure that requires more diplomacy than a UN peacekeeping mission), Jessica was ready for a new challenge. Together, they packed up their belongings, said goodbye to the chaos of the Big Apple, and made the journey back to Pierre’s homeland, where they would embark on a whole new adventure.

Their shop, Racines, sits at the base of the village. The name Racines means “roots” in French, which is a fitting metaphor for their journey—not just Pierre’s return to his French roots, but the deep roots required to grow great vines, and by extension, great wines.

When they first arrived in 2020, they hoped not to be met with the skepticism you might expect from small villages anywhere in the world. Outsiders coming in, with big city ways and ideas? Starting a business in the middle of a global crisis? But, as with most things in France, skepticism can be softened by a good bottle of wine. And that’s where Pierre and Jessica excelled.

Their business model was and remains simple yet ambitious: bring the best wines from across France to the people of the Luberon—locals, tourists, and expats with second homes alike. But they weren’t just curating any old collection of wines. Pierre, with his degree in finance and years of working for a very established wine retailer in New York (which must come in handy when negotiating with winemakers), spent months travelling across France, visiting vineyards, and personally selecting the wines they would carry in their shop. These weren’t the mass-produced bottles you find on supermarket shelves. No, these were small-batch, artisanal wines made with love, care, and generations of expertise. And Jessica, with her sharp eye for detail and impeccable taste (a skill honed in her years managing wealthy New York families), ensured that the shop’s selection was exquisite and approachable.

In a very short period, other village business owners supported the new kids on the block, which the couple wholly appreciated. It wasn’t very long until the customers came calling and soon after a repeat customer base was established. Word spread, as it does in small towns, and soon, their little shop became a local institution. Locals began to pop in to pick up a bottle for special occasions and holidays, while expats would linger to chat about the latest offerings from Bordeaux or Burgundy. Racines has become more than just a wine shop—a meeting place.

Word spread to the surrounding towns, and soon, visitors from across the region were making the trek to Racines to sample their wines. The couple hosts regular tasting events and assures me that this will expand to include cheese pairings and dinners prepared to showcase the wines that will best bring out the flavours of the lovingly prepared meals.

I believe one of the keys to their success is their genuine passion for what they do. Pierre talks about wine the way some people talk about their children—with a mixture of pride and wonder. He’s not just selling bottles of fermented grape juice; he’s selling a piece of French culture, a connection to the land, and the centuries of tradition that go into each vintage. And Jessica, with her background in high-stakes finance, brings professionalism and attention to detail that ensures every customer feels like they’re receiving the very best. Together, they’ve created something extraordinary.

But, of course, it hasn’t all been sunshine and rosé. They’ll be the first to tell you that running a small business is exhausting. But through it all, they’ve persevered, driven by their love of the land, their passion for wine, and their desire to build something meaningful.

And now, two years after they opened their doors, they’ve built a thriving business and become an integral part of village life. On any given day, Pierre will chat with customers about the latest wines from the Rhône, while Jessica hovers nearby, offering suggestions and ensuring everyone feels welcome.

As I sit here, sipping a glass of red that Pierre insists is a wine not to be missed, I can’t help but marvel at what they’ve accomplished. They’ve taken a big gamble, and it’s paid off in ways they never could have imagined. In a world that feels increasingly uncertain, their story is a reminder that sometimes, the best thing you can do is take root in the place that feels most like home.

So, if you ever find yourself in the Luberon, I urge you to stop by Racines. You’ll leave with more than just a bottle of wine—you’ll leave with a sense of connection, community, and perhaps even a renewed faith in the power of following your roots.

(If you’re lucky, Jessica might even let you in on her secret to balancing the books and pouring the perfect glass simultaneously.)

I hope this post finds you happy and healthy. If you have a moment, please leave your thoughts and comments in the box below the last image. This is my first foray into sharing the stories of others I have met on my journeys. I trust that you enjoy the shift. Please let me know if you would like to meet and learn about others who make village life so interesting and enjoyable.

Live well!

Mark.

p.s. For those interested, the following cameras were used to capture the included images. Leica SL3, Leica Q3 and the Leica Q3 43