I wind my way along a French country road toward Grignan. Wildflowers along the roadside. Tractors working the fields. Rolling hills. Big bales of hay scattered across the land. I haven’t even arrived yet, and that lazy vacation feeling already kicks in. Then Grignan appears, perched on a hill surrounded by lavender fields. On top, the castle rises up triumphantly. I spend a day here, and honestly, I could’ve easily stayed longer.

For 33 years, a mailman with zero training in art or architecture builds his palace, undisturbed, in his own backyard. At night, by the light of an oil lamp. A madman? Or a genius? More than a hundred years later, you can still admire his life’s work in Hauterives.