In the sun-warmed medieval village of Montréal, deep in the heart of southern France, Camellas‑Lloret rests a short distance from Carcassonne’s ancient ramparts — a quiet love letter to the past. Behind its 18th-century stone walls, lovingly restored, jasmine scents the air, wood floors whisper underfoot, and the hush of linen curtains stirring at the window carries the weight of memory. This intimate retreat is the work of Annie and Colin, whose chance meeting on a Paris-bound train b...
