If there’s one place on Earth that knows how to do the simple things right, it’s Aix-en-Provence. Situated in southern France, this town oozes charm like a leaky bottle of perfume left in the sun—strong, fragrant, and hard to ignore. Of course, by the time you’ve been here for 15 minutes, you’ve already formed two firm conclusions: the first is that everyone in Aix has perfected the art of leisure to a science. The second is that you’ve clearly missed the memo on how to pull off looking effortlessly stylish while pretending to sip coffee.

The golden stone architecture of Aix, basking in that Mediterranean sun, makes you feel like you’ve strolled into a time capsule, one that conveniently stops just shy of the era of smartphones. It’s a town that hasn’t so much resisted modernity as it has casually waved it off with a casual flick of a hand as if to say, “Why rush?” And really, why would you? Aix doesn’t rush anything, least of all its café.

First things first—when you arrive in Aix, you’ll notice that it seems to be home to more cafés than actual people. Like mushrooms after a rainstorm, they pop up in every conceivable corner, side street, and sunny square. It’s not so much a question of where to get coffee, but rather, where can you get coffee and the best view of locals as they go about their days, blissfully unaware that they’re part of your live-action drama.

There’s a unique pleasure in choosing your café. This unspoken ritual involves surveying each establishment’s seating arrangement, judging the general vibe of the clientele, and mentally calculating which spot offers maximum visibility with minimum interaction. Locals, of course, are unbothered by this process. They’ve been occupying these café chairs for centuries, lounging as though each wicker chair is a throne and every espresso a decree.

There’s a particular art to people-watching in Aix. It’s like going to a zoo, but one where the animals are immaculately dressed, impossibly elegant, and occasionally sipping rosé before noon. Ah yes, the wine is a local pastime that, while most civilized societies might reserve for evening or at least post-lunch hours, the residents of Aix seem to think, “Why wait?” And honestly, why indeed?

Pre-Noon Drinking: The Noble Tradition of Day Rosé. It’s around 11 a.m., and already, the clinking of wine glasses can be heard at several tables nearby. Most locals prefer a crisp, pale glass of rosé, as if they’ve decided that water, while perfectly fine, simply doesn’t carry the same joie de vivre. Sometimes, they’ll opt for pastis, the licorice-flavoured anise spirit that can knock you off your feet if you’re unprepared. Pastis before lunch is the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a Hemingway novel, except here it’s not some tortured American writer—it’s Jean-Paul, casually enjoying his third small glass while reading Le Monde. You, meanwhile, are pretending your Americano is hitting the same sophisticated notes. One thing’s for sure: any attempt to judge this behaviour will immediately peg you as the uncultured outsider you are. So, instead, you lean into it. After all, when in Aix, why not indulge? Have a glass of wine. It’s five o’clock somewhere (though certainly not here), and you’re on vacation—right?

Now, about the coffee. Let me make one thing clear: the French do not mess around when it comes to espresso. You won’t find pumpkin spice anything here, thank God. What you will find, however, is espresso in all its tiny, bitter glory. It’s the kind of coffee that will make your heart race, either from joy or a mild caffeine overdose. Most cafés won’t even bother offering you a menu because you should already know what you’re having: an espresso or a café au lait, depending on the time of day and your caffeine tolerance.

It’s worth noting that ordering a “coffee” in Aix is a bit of a gamble if you’re not specific. Say “un café,” and you’ll get an espresso. If you’re hoping for something more along the lines of a full mug of American drip coffee, well, you’ll need to ask for a café allongé, which is essentially espresso with a bit of extra hot water. Still bitter, still small, but at least it lasts more than two sips.

If you’re brave enough to sit down for breakfast at a café, you’ll probably be offered a noisette—an espresso with just a dash of cream—or, if you’re feeling particularly fancy, a café crème. The latter is basically France’s answer to the cappuccino, and it’s a perfectly respectable choice if you want to linger at your table and look like you belong.

For those abstaining from alcohol or caffeine (for reasons that can only be described as “curious” in this setting), Aix’s café scene offers a variety of soft drinks that are somehow imbued with more sophistication than anything you’d find at your local diner back home. Perrier is a staple, of course—because why would you drink regular water when you can have bubbles? There’s also Orangina, a fizzy orange drink that somehow manages to feel both casual and slightly exotic at the same time. But it’s not just the fizzy beverages that get the spotlight. A good café will have an array of flavoured syrups for mixing into mineral water, ranging from the classic grenadine to the more adventurous mint or lavender. These are the drinks you sip when you want to appear both refreshed and refined, though the locals, again, are probably sticking with their rosé.

Of course, while the café culture is enticing, it’s hard to ignore the sheer beauty of Aix itself. The architecture here is a testament to the region’s golden age, with soft hues of yellow and cream colouring the buildings like a permanent sunset. The streets are narrow and winding, as if the city itself was designed by someone who couldn’t draw a straight line to save their life, but that’s all part of its charm.

At the heart of Aix is the Cours Mirabeau, the grand boulevard lined with towering plane trees, where cafés spill out onto the pavement and beg you to take a seat. As you sit, sipping your chosen beverage, you can feel the weight of history pressing in on you, in the best possible way. This is a town that has seen centuries of artists, intellectuals, and dreamers pass through, and somehow, it’s all still here, captured in every cobblestone and every corner café.

If you’re an art lover—or even if you just like pretending you know your Manet from your Monet—Aix has one name that looms large: Paul Cézanne. The man is practically a local hero here, and for good reason. Cézanne’s connection to Aix runs deep; he was born here, painted here, and never indeed left. His love for the landscape around Aix is evident in his works, and as you wander through the town, it’s easy to see why.

The Montagne Sainte-Victoire, a craggy mountain that rises just outside the city, was one of Cézanne’s favourite subjects, and it dominates the skyline like a guardian watching over the town. Walk a little further, and you’ll stumble upon his studio, Atelier Cézanne, preserved just as he left it. It’s a quiet place filled with the ghosts of his creative genius and a reminder that this seemingly sleepy town has produced some of the most influential art in history.

Aix’s connection to the Impressionists doesn’t stop with Cézanne. The town was a magnet for artists, drawn here by the light, the landscape, and perhaps the leisurely pace of life. Even if you’re not well-versed in art history, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe as you explore the town and imagine the conversations that must have taken place in these very cafés, between artists whose works would go on to change the course of art forever.

At the end of the day, Aix-en-Provence isn’t just a place—it’s a mindset. It’s a reminder that life doesn’t always have to be rushed, that there’s beauty in slowing down and savouring the moment, whether that moment involves an espresso, a glass of rosé, or simply sitting at a café and watching the world go by.

As you sit in one of the many cafés that dot this town, basking in the sunlight and soaking up the atmosphere, you begin to understand why Aix has inspired so many. It’s not just the beauty of the town itself, though that certainly helps. It’s the way the city invites you to slow down, to take a breath, and to appreciate the small things—a well-poured glass of wine, the way the light falls on the buildings, the sound of laughter from a nearby table.

In Aix-en-Provence, time seems to stretch out, like a long summer afternoon that never quite ends. The cafés here aren’t just places to grab a quick coffee or a glass of wine—they’re spaces where life unfolds, slowly and gracefully, in the most delightful way possible. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to be a part of it, if only for a little while. I hope this post can not only describe my version of a slow day in Aix but, in a small way, become a public service announcement for those just starting to assemble a travel itinerary for the area. Please don’t confuse my writing style as critical. I love this place and everything about it. Aix drops my blood pressure and ensures my happiness. Please don't hesitate to drop me a line with your comments or thoughts in the box below the last image.

Live well!

M.

p.s. The Leica Q3 43 is just the right camera for wandering the streets of Provence. If you have a moment, please visit my gallery pages for more images taken with this and other cameras.