FR26.15 Moustiers-Sainte-Marie

If you ever find yourself in Provence and have no idea what to visit (which would be odd, because literally everything is picturesque), I’d say Moustiers-Sainte-Marie is THE one village you absolutely MUST visit.

It’s even considered one of the most beautiful villages in France, if not the most beautiful. I’m not making this up – it’s officially part of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France! And for good reason.

Despite all this, it’s also the only village we’ve encountered so far where parking anything larger than a shopping cart becomes a serious challenge. There is one car park for cars (height barrier: 1.9m) and a campsite (€16-ish) for campers. Apart from that, you’re pretty much left to hunt for a spot or get creative.

We chose creativity.

While parking Wilma on a strip of grass behind a bus stop, we watched the same four campervans drive past us again and again, desperately searching for somewhere to park their homes. Whether the lack of parking is intentional to combat overtourism or simply an oversight, we honestly don’t know.

Having succeeded, we made our way into the village.

Just as we had finished the steep climb and reached maximum sweat levels, I realised I had brought the wrong camera. The views required both a wide-angle lens and a telephoto lens.

So I headed all the way back down.

And then all the way back up.

Exercise for the week completed 💪

The first time you round the corner and properly enter the village is almost overwhelming because you genuinely don’t know where to look first.

The tiny alleyways lined with cafés and shops?

The church high up on the hillside?

The famous star hanging between the mountain peaks?

The stream winding its way through the village?

The flowers, trees and plants everywhere?

Or perhaps the church in the lower part of the village?

And, like many villages in Provence, the scent of star jasmine is everywhere, giving the village a wonderful fragrance.

Honestly, Moustiers-Sainte-Marie is simply stunning.

Since I had probably lost about five litres of sweat walking up the hill twice, we decided that ice cream was a medical necessity.

Kathrin paid an undisclosed amount (she refuses to tell me to this day), but it tasted heavenly.

Possibly because we were a little closer to heaven at that point.

A few facts about the village:

• Dramatic cliffside setting: The village sits between steep limestone cliffs at the edge of the Verdon region near the famous Gorges du Verdon, often referred to as Europe’s Grand Canyon.
• The mysterious golden star: A gold-coloured star hangs from a chain stretched between two cliffs roughly 225 metres apart. According to local legend, a Crusader knight named Blacas hung it there after returning safely from captivity.
• Ancient origins: The village traces its roots back to the 5th century when monks from the Lérins Islands established a monastery in caves on the cliffs. The name “Moustiers” comes from the Latin monasterium.
• Two beautiful churches:
  • Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption Church with its distinctive Lombard bell tower.
  • Notre-Dame de Beauvoir Chapel, reached via 262 steps and rewarded with spectacular views.
• A waterfall in the village: A spring emerges from the cliffs and forms a waterfall that flows through the village, historically powering mills and workshops.
• Small population: Despite its international fame, only around 700 people live here, giving the village a surprisingly intimate atmosphere.

We had timed our visit perfectly and the village looked absolutely beautiful in the afternoon sunlight.

That didn’t make the 262 steps up to the upper chapel any easier though.

The path consists largely of polished rocks and they are incredibly slippery. Seriously slippery. I would not want to attempt it when wet. In fact, climbing the 2,000 steps up Reinebringen in Norway felt easier.

The chapel, however, is worth every step and the views over the surrounding countryside even more so.

Once we had explored every corner of the village, the restaurants proved too tempting to ignore and so we treated ourselves to dinner in one of the charming little alleyways.

What surprised us most was that, despite the village’s fame, the prices were perfectly reasonable and nowhere near tourist-trap territory.

With full bellies and lots of wonderful new memories, we rolled back down the hill to Wilma. She was still parked exactly where and how we had left her.

From there we made our way back to our quiet little patch of home and watched a sunset over flower fields.