Discover the beauty of Provence

So in summer the feel is distinctly Parisian Left Bank - haute couture rather than Haute-Provence.

And fame has drawn fans of this swish version of the rustic idyll from ever further afield.

Gulf Arabs and Russian oligarchs have bought into their version of the dream. But driving on through Apt, I headed into wilder country, climbing through oak and fine forest until finally I reached the rolling plateau that provides an ideal environment for growing lavender.

The air up here is so pure and the night skies so clear that the French chose it as the site for the national observatory.

From hilltops, there are fine views of the surrounding mountains: Mont Ventoux, whose bare limestone flanks glisten deceptively like snow under the midday sun; the Montagne de Lure to the north and the Luberon, cloaked in oak forest and garrigue, to the south-west.

On a clear day you can see the snow-capped line of the Alps far to the east.

A number of GR (grandes randonnées) hiking routes that wind around these mountains all come together here, so keen walkers are spoilt for choice.

The lavender fields are more broken up by copses and patches of forest offering welcome shade than those on the plateau of Valensole further south.

Often the path followed droveways lined by dry-stone walls past rounded shepherd's huts or cories.

On one walk I passed in swift succession two absurdly picturesque stone-built farmhouses which, if they were down in the Vaucluse, would surely have been given the full makeover.

Enquiring about them in the nearest village café, I learned that one was abandoned when its spring dried up - just as in Manon des Sources.

The other, virtually a manor house with its own dovecote, had been empty since the son committed suicide there.

The family could not bear to live in it, but neither would they sell. Again, different values from those just down the road.

I liked to set out early, before the heat of the day built up, and then either picnic on local saucisson, fresh goats' cheeses and deliciously tiny black olives under a walnut tree, or linger in a simple village restaurant serving up, say, cheese-filled courgette flowers followed by rabbit cooked over vine clippings and flavoured with a mix of Provençal herbs that, hereabouts, naturally includes lavender.

Forcalquier, with its narrow streets, makes a good base for exploring this lavender country, having two good hotels and a choice of restaurants.

Elsewhere, most visitors stay in B&Bs or self-catering gîtes (prices are much lower than in the more fashionable Vaucluse). But I also wandered into charming hill-top villages to quench my thirst, buy the makings of a picnic, or tuck into an uncomplicated fixed-price lunch.

Among my favourites are Oppedette, hanging over the Calavon Gorge, and Simiane-la-Rotonde, where, by the remains of the medieval castle, the Sainte-Victoire laboratory holds sessions on the distillation of lavender into essential oils and their use in aromatherapy.

At the Tuesday market in Banon, which has a working lavender distillery, I bought some of the celebrated local cheeses wrapped in chestnut leaves.

Probably the liveliest market takes place on Sundays at Reillanne. After making my purchases, I observed the hubbub from a balcony while sipping a local version of pastis, which, surprisingly, is sky-blue in colour.

It takes a good two hours' drive from either the Rhône valley or the Côte d'Azur to reach this "back country".

If coming from the coast on the Route Napoleon, the lavender fields around Valensole are more accessible. En route there are the Gorges du Verdon (France's version of the Grand Canyon) and spectacularly sited villages such as Moustiers-Sainte-Marie to explore, though these can get busy in high summer.

As is so often the case, you have to go that extra mile in order to step back in time and enjoy life at an easier pace.