Simplistic comparison from the Sunday Times, and guess what? It's a draw. Readers will assume both are fabuluous and be none the wiser.
Here's the answer: I honeymooned in Tuscany and have a house in Provence. Draw your own conclusions.
Enjoy this excerpt: "Granted, Provence lacks Tuscany’s “painted into place” perfection. Its beauty is otherwise — of sensual light softly colouring a life lived hard for centuries. This is a land of lavender, prettily perched villages and old blokes bringing ancestral wisdom to the game of pétanque.
The postcards tell little, either, about a life still dominated by farming, family ties and folk who alternate between public celebrations and bitter disputes. They also ignore pieds et paquets, the tripe-and-trotters dish with which locals stun feeble foreign digestive systems.
Provence is, in short, a proper, rooted place, not an arty summer camp for the chattering classes. Bèn-vengu. (That’s “welcome”, Provençal-wise.)"