Many years ago, our valued friends Jacquie and Lorne began searching for a vacation home. They explored possibilities in several parts of North America and Europe before deciding that the south of France offered almost everything they could wish for: a rich and fascinating history, a warm climate, exceptional food and wine, and surprisingly modest costs.

They eventually found their place in Pépieux, a quaint village in the Minervois wine region, situated just 3 km north of Homps on the Canal du Midi. It’s a small village in the Aude department of the Languedoc-Roussillon region, an area where history seems to be present at every turn. Just outside the village is the Dolmen des Fades, an extraordinary Neolithic monument built more than 5,000 years ago.

Only 12 kilometres away is Minerve, a breathtaking medieval village perched high above the gorges of two rivers. Its stone buildings, narrow lanes, dramatic setting, and turbulent history make it one of the most memorable places in southern France. Minerve is officially recognized as one of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France—one of the most beautiful villages in the country.

About 35 kilometres from Pépieux stands the magnificent Cité de Carcassonne, one of the region’s essential destinations. Its fortified walls, towers, and medieval streets are well worth exploring—provided you can overlook the vendors selling tacky souvenirs of doubtful authenticity and even less collectible value.

Close to Pepieux runs the Canal du Midi, a 240-kilometre man-made waterway in Southern France that connects Toulouse to the Mediterranean Sea. I sat beside the canal, wishing I had the time and money to rent a boat to spend a week or so gliding on the calm waters and stopping for three, four, or five meals a day.

From my first visit, I was captivated by Languedoc—its landscapes, ancient ruins, and history. Before travelling there, I had read about the Albigensian Crusade, the brutal 13th-century campaign that aimed to eradicate Catharism in southern France. Hundreds of thousands were killed because their religious beliefs differed from those sanctioned by the Church leaders in Rome. That history gave the region’s castles, fortifications, and villages more significance.

Many younger people prefer newer homes, leaving ancient villages at risk of gradual depopulation. That may help explain why respectful foreigners are welcomed when they buy and restore old homes. Newcomers help keep villages alive, even if they are part-time residents.

Modern village life is appealing. Walking to the local boulangerie, we found that almost everyone we passed greeted us with a courteous “Bonjour, Monsieur” or “Bonjour, Madame.” The weekly markets were abundant with seasonal produce, local specialties, and, best of all, cheeses that are never seen in Canada.

Local wineries encouraged customers to bring their own containers and draw vin en vrac directly from the barrel. We were told that substantial taxation began once wine was bottled. The bulk wine was not exceptional, but it was perfectly drinkable as an everyday beverage.

On one occasion, Gwen and I travelled to a nearby town in search of a fine wine recommended by the Guide Hachette des Vins. We expected a retail space, but the address given us was for an ordinary residence. Unsure if this was the right place, we knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered. Despite our limited French language, we explained what we were looking for. She walked us down the street and descended into a dark cellar filled with wine bottles. We purchased the Crus du Languedoc that we sought and imagined that we were paying about one-quarter of what the price would be in Canada.

I once remarked to Lorne that we had never encountered better markets or eaten anything less than an excellent meal in a French restaurant. He replied that French people had high standards. Any market vendor, café, or restaurant that offered inferior food would not remain in business for long.

I added that we had never experienced any difficulty dealing with French people, even though we spoke very little of their language. “That’s because you have something they want,” Lorne said. “Money.”

Lorne was one of Western Canada’s foremost restoration architects, so the prospect of owning an 800-year-old stone house in a small French village was no deterrent. Each year, he and Jacquie have completed modest improvements, carefully adapting the house without sacrificing its character.

But time passes, and circumstances change. Later generations developed interests that did not include maintaining a centuries-old home in a small Languedoc village. Jacquie and Lorne have therefore decided that the time has come to sell.

I feel sad because I’d like to have one more visit to Southern France where our friend might ask, “On va s’installer sur la terrasse pour l’apéro ?”

Here is Lorne’s short paper about their property.