Le Phébus & Spa, Joucas

Summer in the Luberon is a sociable affair. The markets fill by nine, the terraces of Gordes by noon, and some of the smartest hotels seem designed to make sure everybody sees everybody else having a good time. Le Phébus, tucked into the hills outside the tiny village of Joucas, has a more private idea of happiness. Some of its guests can step out of bed and into their own pool. They can then spend the day doing very little, until the restaurant gives them an excellent reason to put on shoes.

It is a family house, not a concept. Xavier Mathieu, the chef and owner, has been cooking here for decades; his son Anthony is now the host. The scale is intimate: thirty rooms and suites in old stone buildings across seven hectares, among olive trees, pines and cypresses. Modern sculptures lurk in the garden, the slopes smell of thyme in the heat, and across the valley the cliffs of Roussillon blush ochre at dusk.

The suites hold the secret, because some come with a pool of their own just steps from the bed. A whole day can pass without meeting another guest: swim, breakfast in a bathrobe, book, nap, swim again. Nobody has claimed the best lounger with a towel at dawn, and nobody else's children are doing bombs. For larger parties, the Villa des Anges gives the same idea more room. The private pool is not a standard room feature, which is worth remembering before buying into the fantasy.

When the body wants more than a pool, the spa, newly remade with French skincare house Château Berger, has a heated pool with massage jets, a eucalyptus hammam, a Nordic bath and a tea room for doing absolutely nothing afterwards. One facial works on muscles most people never knew their face possessed. Unlike the pool beside your suite, the spa also welcomes day visitors.

Then dinner, where health and pleasure finally stop arguing. Provençal cooking was Mediterranean long before the word became a diet, and Xavier Mathieu cooks it with a wink. Marseille's pieds et paquets find a new shape; ratatouille is taken apart and rebuilt; a warm soufflé tastes of honey and mead. This is food that remembers its grandmother without copying her handwriting. Lunch is easier at Le Café de la Fontaine, and a cooking class sends a little of the confidence home.

Not every room plays the same game. The standard rooms, without a pool, are smaller and some a little dated, and the odd air conditioner has sulked. Service at dinner can be more formal than warm, the café is less reliable than the main table, and the spa, open to day visitors, is busier than the suites. A car is a must, and suites with pools are priced like the rarities they are.

Elsewhere in the Luberon, the pleasure lies in joining in. At Le Phébus, it lies in not having to. The sign on the door says Do Not Disturb, and the house means it, right up until the soufflé arrives.