The mistral continues to bother the plane trees and the poplars, and the sun slips lower creating a golden violet sawtooth of the little Alpilles. The kids are called in for baths and we all retreat to our rooms to fix ourselves before dinner.

The hair is brushed, pulled back and covered with a printed silk head scarf, a long poplin skirt is drawn over her swimmers as a quick means to an end, no time for a shower, an aperitif beckons. In his room he flicks off the swim shorts, drags on some tan silk trousers and tucks in a low buttoned, ruffled linen shirt, just enough to cover a mild sunburn. He slaps on some suede moccasins and slides on his soft silk jacket, enjoying the crisp crackle of the salt on his skin.

The clink of ice and vermouth, whose aroma calls on the dry herbal flora of the surrounds.

We pile into the Mehari, and with chatter and the rustle of our clothes in the wind, we buzz away to Saint-Remi for a light aperitif. Welcome to Part Two of our little Provencal experience. Here you'll find a collection of softly tailored elegant looks for once you've left the pool and the evening calls.