We practically lived in Hermes, and other St. Tropez adventures

Oct 8

Written By Marcia Piper

Hello, St. Tropez.

Which, in my brain movies meant I'd be popping bottles with the likes of Beyonce and Jay Z.

As we arrive into town it was bustling with people, energy, and -- perched on the water.

Yep, I think I'll love it here.

After we parked the cars (fyi parking is EXPENSIVE to the tune of 80 euros, a day -- barf) as we walked back to our airbnb we passed quaint store fronts -- namely, La Tarte Tropezienne.

It goes without saying we stopped.

a) because there is no bakery I ever pass up

b) see "a"

Bought a treat for each of us, consumed mine before I got the change back into my purse and exited and almost ate Mark's. That good.

Soft, moist layer of cake (sponge/brioche like) slathered with a generous layer of cream filling. Then sprinkled with rock sugar.

I had a (massive) food-gasm in the aisles of St. Tropez...

Then repeated said gasm every day we were there, and twice the last day.

I cannot tell a lie.

Glass of bubbly here on our first night.

Candlelit, exquisite port location, and people watching that would make you buy real estate.

Airbnb was my favorite of this trip. Situated in the heart of St. Tropez (next door/attached to Hermes!), on the top floor with sweeping views of the city below. Gorgeously decorated in French chic with rich hues of ivory and gray. Two bedrooms and two bathrooms, it accommodated the six of us (the living room has a massive sectional that transforms into a bed) with ease and grace. The kitchen was top of the line, making it easy to prepare meals and cocktails. Soundproof once the windows closed for the epitome of a good nights rest if you don't want the Sea air billowing in (which was lovely as well).

This park housed the most adorable older men playing the French equivalent of bocce ball, and a quaint restaurant (name I can't recall) with an outdoor patio -- and they were showing the World Cup.

So in the spirit of compromise, the ladies ordered a bottle of wine, and the boys watched the game.

Win. Win.

My pasta carbonara? Also a winner.

Yes, yes that is pancetta.

The trip brought on a righteous bout of motion sickness for yours truly rivaling my already not awesome car sickness in spades. So I found a pharmacy a few streets over and sweet, sweet relief.

The One and Only, a bottle(s) of rose', sand and sun.

My idea of heaven.

See. I belong on the sand.

My face happiness speaks volumes.

Someone please convince Mark we need to move to the beach instead of visiting like long lost lovers of the sand and surf.

Please.

Yachts. Replete with staffs of 10+. This picture does no justice for the mammoth that are luxury yachts.

I'm talking flat screen tvs that take up an entire wall, persian rugs, chandeliers, and a under deck that lifts on command to expose water sport -- wave runners and beyond.

Dolla-dolla-dolla bills y'all.

Boat tour -- did you know Bridget Bardot made St. Tropez famous?

Her movie, "And God created woman" was filmed there in 1956.

Dinner in Old St. Tropez -- think cobblestone streets and a slight sea breeze. We sat on the patio and a local musician, Alex Mason was playing. If the night wasn't already great, it jumped straight to perfection.

Fish special -- fear not, they present the fish to you, then will de-bone/head it. Which is the only way I eat meat. With no faces.

Robyn (my soon-to-be aunt and our officiant!), me and Jess

Robyn insisted we indulge in macaroons from her favorite Paris bakery, La Duree.

I do as I'm told.

The bottom one was salted caramel.

Yes, it melts in your mouth.

Gelato with this beauty at Barbarac -- the silkiest gelato I've had to date. So I split my time bouncing from Barbarac to tarte tropezienne like a winner.