I’m not sure how we found Domaine de Mortiès, an organic winery at the foothills of Pic St. Loup, but it was the kind of unplanned, delightful discovery our previous trips to Montpellier never allowed. The beautiful old limestone farmhouse looked shut, so we waited in the car while Fabrice knocked at the door. It was a Monday, a day that they don’t normally do tastings, he told us when he returned. But the proprietor, a woman named Pascale Moustiés, was willing to make an exception.

How nice, I thought, as I followed Mme. Moustiés into the estate’s cave to sample a flight of her wines for the usual price, free. Her demeanor, though, was a reminder of typical French hospitality: While they may accommodate you more readily than you’d guess, don’t expect the kind of cheerfulness that Americans put on to hide the fact you are inconveniencing them. Mme. Moustiés looked about as enthused as a teenager working the checkout at Rite Aid. Still, the wine was good. Our favorite was a minerally red of carignan grapes called La Mauvaise Herbe — weed, as in the unwanted plant, not cannabis. We bought a bottle and thanked her.

Back on D986, we headed north. The sky darkened and a light rain came. The landscape was quickly becoming lusher again — I spotted oaks — and we pulled to the side of the road in the village of St.-Laurent-le-Minier, where the river Vis flows into a short but rapid waterfall. In better weather, people swim in the pool below the waterfall, Fabrice said, which I thought unlikely until two people with bathing suits strode past us.

With the sun coming out, we took Route D110 to D113 to the Cirque de Navacelles, which Fabrice described as France’s Grand Canyon. It wasn't quite; still, the Cirque is an eerie, awe-inspiring sight. The meandering Vis River had cut a wide berth into the gorge's nearly 1,000-foot limestone plateau, making a startling contrast between the bright green valley, with the village of Navacelles at its center, and its jagged stone walls. Even better, the view could be had from a cafe, the Maison du Grand Site du Cirque de Navacelles.

Following the winding Route D130 south to D25 onto D9, we headed to our bed-and-breakfast, or gîte, Domaine de Salente in Gignac. The approach from Route A750 is not the most beautiful (the highway was conspicuous among the low-lying vineyards), but once we arrived at the 18th-century stone farmhouse and toured its cobalt blue pool and beautifully appointed, contemporary-furnished guest rooms, I knew we’d made the right choice.