The South of France is disco dancing at Byblos in San Tropez and long lunches at Colombe d'Or in Saint-Paul-de-Vence. Wandering the artsy streets of Eze and Mougins, and sunbathing at La Voile Rouge in Saint-Tropez. Those magical summers in the 1980s, when my dad spent money we did not have, created priceless memories we still talk about.

Starting in 1985, my father's business associate offered us his historic olive mill in Vence. When we first arrived in Cannes and checked into the Majestic Hotel, my conservative Midwestern parents gave strict instructions: my sister Susan and I were not to go topless. So, of course, the first thing we did when we hit the beach was peel off our bikini tops to blend in. My parents were livid—until lunchtime, when my dad went strolling down the sand with us, topless.

Years later, I returned to the Riviera with new memories to make. In 2011 and 2012, my Aussie friend Pete (who has since passed away) invited me to stay at his place on Yacht Harbor in Monaco with a view of the palace. It was tres chic and even more glamorous with friends who lived in penthouses along the port, staring out at trillion-dollar yachts with names like Lady Nag Nag.

My advice on how to maximize your French Riviera experience—or at least how I do it—is simple: use your high school French (though English works too), and never underestimate the power of a smile. Balance beach days with medieval town trekking, because after two days, the villages blur into cobblestone alleyways navigated in flip-flops, old men carrying rations uphill, and cheesy gift shops that all start to look the same.

When in France, always pick up the latest Buddha Bar CD and Mariage Frères tea.