All diamonds emerge from caves.. Who knew some of them lay hidden in the French countryside?

Nouzilly, a small commune near Tours, carries a name with the same affection it gives: a soft nuzzle of the French countryside.

Wonderfully alive, this region brims with natural streams, springs, and ponds. Its landscape is shaped by famously fertile, adaptable farmland while dense, far-reaching forests unfurl across the horizon, the Bois de Nouzilly to the north, the Bois du Mortier to the south. Limestone houses nestle into this landscape, as if they had grown there over the centuries.

Recalling the memories of last Christmas, bound for one of its defining homes alongside two of its most precious inhabitants, we barrelled down a long, stretching road as fire caught the winter sky. Lit in shades of orange and electric pink, it was a vivid welcome into the magnificent countryside maison.

Tatie N and her husband R’s property is decorated with sprawling bushes of climbing roses, sits beside a small pasture and is offset by a round little spring, home to petites grenouilles who croak their dainty salut to the wild fish darting below, and some, it seems, even welcomed us as we arrived.

Crossing its threshold, we found ourselves surrounded by a generous garden overflowing with diverse blooms, as we criss-crossed the large tiled terrace that links the house to the grange.

Here, in this magical corner of the Loire Valley,  the world slowed down and revealed its hidden wonders, as we slipped into the festive spirit of Noël. 

As very lucky guests’,  we are donned with a large basket and asked to follow a hidden passage behind the grange that leads down ancient stone steps. Descending down this secret passage, we are embraced by stone walls beautifully decorated with spiral snails that seek shelter on the soft moss, growing plentifully in the gentle humidity. As we reach the bottom step we are greeted by a weathered wooden door, rounded to match the curved stone and invited into the lengthy cave beyond.

Stepping inside the low lit room, a plethora of regional wines lay in wait, aligned perfectly on the cold stone. Designated with our picking places, we each gathered six or so bottles of red, white, and the ever-loved Champagne or Crémant. The air is thick and heavy with moss and earth, minerality and deep musk, the perfectly dark and cold alcove for these extraordinary gems. For scale, think of it this way: for some unknown reason, there is a canoe that lines the length of the cave, while still hosting plenty of walking space on either side. As rumour has it, on certain spirited nights of libation, one has been known to get in the canoe and go for an effervescent imaginary ride, singing merrily, merrily, merrily all the while experiencing life as but a dream.

Moments after popping open one of our many precious finds, we were wrapped in bisous and warm hellos to our Maman Bichette (my affectionately named mother-in-law), and swept into joyful laughter that seemed to rise in time with every uncorked bottle.

Over the three days of Noël, there was raclette, smoked trout and fresh oysters, and a small turkey with chestnut stuffing on the last night. Bottles of Champagne and Crémant, deep burgundy and spicy red wines, and fresh white Chablis accompanied every meal. We laughed, ate, drank, listened to music, and unwrapped countless presents beneath the pink-and-white Christmas tree. We were surrounded, swimming in love.

All presents, wine caves, and libations aside, the true magic lay in the people of this house. Tatie N and her husband R are two of the most exquisite beings you’ll ever meet: fun-loving, hardworking, travel-hungry, and always thirsty, overflowing not only your glasses, but also your heart. Their home is a quintessential maison de campagne, lovingly restored by R himself, its once-rustic interior has been updated for the ages, yet remains rooted in the tradition of French bricolage. There are many bricoleurs in this family, R among the best, with a knowledge that can tackle just about anything: Bathroom retiled? Kitchen gutted? Roof replaced? Tree trimmed? Hole dug for a pool? Ask him, he’ll know. At this point, I’d trust him with my life.

The two-level house has endured not just because of its good bones, but because of the devotion poured into it. At its heart is Tatie N. Beautiful, with deep brown eyes, she is the kind of wise woman who sees straight into you, all the way to the bottom. Savvy, intuitive, guided by a fierce inner compass, she is the Reine of this domain. Always a glass of bubbles in hand, always laughing or tossing a playful comment, always ready with a shimmy to some funky tune, her heart pours generously into everything she touches.

Together, she and R carry a profound knowledge of their region: refined palates, hands seasoned by work, and hearts that give without hesitation. To be in their company is to feel you belong. That Noël in the Loire Valley, among family, food, wine, and hidden gems, was the perfect embodiment of that feeling: love, welcome, and the slow, tender unfolding of life in its most effervescent form.