Wanna Flee to St. Tropez Like a Billionaire (Without Checking in at Gate 32A)

Welcome to the South of France, Where Even the Sand is Pretentious

Ah, St. Tropez. That glittery spot on the French Riviera where the water is impossibly blue, the rosé flows like water, and everyone seems to be on vacation from some other vacation. You’ve probably heard whispers about this Mediterranean wonderland. Maybe it was from a friend of a friend who once accidentally sipped champagne next to Leonardo DiCaprio (who then ghosted them, of course). Or perhaps you saw it on Instagram, where influencers float on yachts like elegant pool noodles.

But let’s get one thing clear: if you’re planning on flying economy and dragging your luggage across Nice airport like a peasant, you’re doing it all wrong. This is St. Tropez. You don’t go there. You arrive. And you arrive like a rockstar who’s just been knighted by a bottle of Dom Pérignon. That means private jet, baby.

First Class? That’s Cute. We Only Fly Jet-Class Now

Let’s face it: the only thing worse than a delayed commercial flight is pretending you’re okay with it while eating a $17 airport salad. That’s why those in the know—and those with taste (and possibly a tiny bit of inherited wealth)—trust one name when it comes to jetting off in style: Platinum Jets.

Now, don’t roll your eyes. Platinum Jets isn’t just some random charter with an outdated logo and a fax machine. These folks know luxury, like the Kardashians know filters. You can hop aboard a sleek bird from London, Riyadh, Geneva, or even somewhere ridiculous like Ohio, and land gracefully in the low-key magic that is La Môle Airport,  just a stone’s throw (well, a wealthy person’s throw) from the St. Tropez harbor.

La Mole: The Tiny Airport That Hates Commercial Airlines

Unlike Charles de Gaulle or JFK, where the only luxury is a working toilet and your Starbucks name being spelled correctly, La Mole is private. Like “you-can’t-sit-with-us” private. Commercial flights are banned like cargo shorts at a fashion show. That means no crying babies, no boarding zones, and definitely no one asking you to take off your belt and shoes in a TSA line that feels like a slow descent into madness.

Instead, Platinum Jets gets you wheels-down on a tarmac so chic it probably moisturizes. And when you disembark, your driver (probably named Jacques and wearing a tailored linen shirt) is already waiting to whisk you to your villa, yacht, or the nearest boutique that only sells sunglasses that cost more than your rent.

The Hotel? Darling, We Rented the Whole Villa

Staying in St. Tropez isn’t about five-star hotels. No, that’s for casual millionaires who probably still use coupon codes. You, my friend, are playing in the big leagues now, and that means waving goodbye to the predictable lobby check-ins and saying hello to extravagant mansions hidden behind gates so ornate they’d make Louis XIV jealous. Tucked in Ramatuelle or perched along the hills of Gassin, these sun-drenched villas boast views that look straight out of a postcard your friends would hate you for sending.

Imagine a mansion with so many rooms you could hide from your responsibilities for days, each bedroom bigger than your first apartment, adorned with designer linens that make Egyptian cotton seem basic. Step outside, and your infinity pool awaits, stretching lazily into the azure Mediterranean horizon, complete with floating trays of artisanal cheeses, olives, and wines from vineyards whose names you pretend to pronounce correctly.

Inside, your private chef whips up dishes so spectacularly French, you half-expect Julia Child to pop out and critique the soufflé. The fridge? Stocked with items you’ve never heard of but suddenly can’t live without: aged cheese infused with black truffles, hand-churned butter from some elite dairy cows, and something labeled “pâté en croûte” that tastes like joy sprinkled with gold flakes.

And mornings? Pure magic. Wake to the gentle sounds of waves in the distance, stroll onto your private balcony, and find your breakfast already laid out, awaiting you with a fresh-squeezed orange juice that was probably pressed by someone who exclusively squeezes oranges for a living. Oh, and don’t worry about that designer swimsuit—your butler has already ironed it to flawless perfection because, of course, wrinkles are for the proletariat.

Afternoons call for lazy naps beneath pergolas draped in fragrant lavender, where your only job is to doze while your assistant politely tells everyone at work that you’re “currently unreachable due to critical meetings.” (Those meetings begin primarily with your sun lounger and a chilled glass of Provençal rosé, naturally.)

With Platinum Jets setting the tone from the sky to the sand, your stay in St. Tropez becomes less of a vacation and more of an immersive masterclass in effortless luxury. It’s not just pampering; it’s an art form, and you’ve just become its masterpiece.

Yacht Life: Where the Ocean Is Just Your Personal Bathtub

It’s illegal, yes, illegal to visit St. Tropez and not pretend you’re a Bond villain on a yacht. Whether you’re renting a speedboat to cruise the bay or going full Bezos with a 200-foot floating palace complete with its own helipad and a DJ booth, the Mediterranean is your playground. And nothing says “I’ve made it” like popping champagne on the deck while some guy named Lorenzo hands you truffle fries.

You don’t need to know the port from starboard. You just need to look good in linen and pretend to care about nautical terminology while sunbathing. Bonus points if you say things like, “We only drop anchor at Pampelonne Beach—the water’s too gauche elsewhere.” And if you really want to commit to the vibe, wear a captain’s hat tilted at just the right angle to scream “authority” without anyone expecting you to actually steer.

Floating off Pampelonne Beach, you can casually observe celebrities pretending they’re not posing for paparazzi or simply lie back as your captain circles the bay to find the best angle for your latest social media post. Here, life slows down to the rhythm of gentle waves, clinking champagne glasses, and the distant, soothing hum of your yacht’s private espresso machine. After all, who drinks regular coffee when sailing into sunset luxury?

Shopping in St. Tropez: Wallets, Prepare to Cry

Ever shopped at a place where they don’t display prices because if you have to ask, you shouldn’t be there? That’s every boutique in St. Tropez. From Dior to local designer pop-ups where they only accept payment in crypto and compliments, shopping here is a sport. And your Platinum Jets pilot didn’t drop you off in this fantasyland for you to leave empty-handed.

There’s art, there’s fashion, and there’s an uncomfortable number of $800 flip-flops that feel like clouds. Plus, it’s the only town where a cheese plate costs as much as a small car, and yet you’ll happily pay for it because the waiter called you “Madame” with a wink. But shopping here is more than just spending; it’s theater. Every purchase feels like you’re in a sophisticated game show where the prize is financial ruin, delivered with a smile and wrapped in the world’s most luxurious paper.

Browse through markets showcasing handwoven hats that probably took seven artisans and three weeks to complete, or discover custom-made perfumes that smell precisely like that summer you spent (or pretended you spent) in Tuscany. And if your credit card starts crying softly from inside your purse, just whisper sweetly to it, “Relax, you’re doing great, sweetie.”

Club 55: Come for the Vibe, Stay Because You Can’t Find Your Shoes

This legendary beach club is part restaurant, part fashion runway, part reality show waiting to happen. Located right on the sands of Pampelonne Beach, it’s where you might spot Rihanna and your dentist at the next table, both pretending they don’t recognize each other. There are no menus, just whispered suggestions, handwritten bills, and a waiter who may or may not be a former runway model.

Want to fit in? Don’t ask for a cocktail menu. Just say, “Surprise me,” and accept that your drink will have a sprig of something you’ve never seen before. Club 55 is about excess, and you’ll leave with a tan, a buzz, and a story you’ll probably exaggerate forever.

Michelin-Star Madness: Where a Salad Becomes a Symphon

Food in St. Tropez isn’t just food. It’s edible art. Restaurants like La Vague d’Or don’t just serve meals; they present experiences. You might start with sea bass that was probably whispered to by monks before being plated, followed by a risotto so delicate it deserves its own museum exhibit.

And if you’re worried you won’t understand the menu, don’t worry;  nobody does. Just nod thoughtfully and say “Très chic” while pointing randomly. If you’re lucky, you’ll get something life-changing. If not, well, you’ll still be dining under the stars with a table full of strangers who all claim to own vineyards.

Adventures Beyond the Glitz: Gassin, Ramatuelle, and Other Fancy-Sounding Places

If you ever get tired of looking fabulous in public (hey, it’s exhausting), St. Tropez has hideaways. Ramatuelle and Gassin are sleepy, vine-covered escapes where life slows down and people wear less cologne. Here, you’ll find art galleries, wine tastings, and bakeries that might make you weep with joy.

You can rent an e-bike and pretend you’re in a French indie film, riding through sunflower fields on your way to find yourself. Or just rent a Vespa, throw on oversized sunglasses, and shout “Ciao!” at random people while they look at you confused but impressed. If two wheels aren’t your thing, perhaps try horseback riding—because nothing screams “romantic comedy montage” more than trotting through picturesque vineyards on a horse named Gaston.

For something a little less active (because let’s face it, you’re here to relax, not sweat), indulge in a leisurely stroll through the narrow, cobbled streets of Gassin. Here, you can sip local rosé at tiny cafés so charming they seem plucked from a Hallmark movie. Ramatuelle offers a vibrant farmer’s market brimming with local cheeses, jams, and baked goods, where you’ll probably spend twenty euros on artisanal honey because the beekeeper charmed you with stories of bees who exclusively visit lavender fields.

As evening approaches, wander into a small hillside bistro, savor a slow-cooked bouillabaisse, and strike up conversations with locals who’ll tell you tales of old St. Tropez—before Instagram influencers invaded and avocado toast was a thing. It’s here, beyond the dazzling yachts and designer boutiques, that you discover the real magic of St. Tropez: authenticity wrapped in simplicity, served with a healthy side of French attitude.

Why Platinum Jets is the Real MVP (Mogul Voyage Provider)

So we’ve circled back. Because none of this fantasy happens without that perfect entrance, the smooth, stylish, no-security-line kind of arrival that only a few experience and everyone else secretly resents. With Platinum Jets, you’re not just a passenger. You’re the passenger.

They’ve mastered the art of making jet travel feel like ordering room service: easy, fast, and tailored exactly how you want it. Want vegan caviar onboard? Done. Need to bring your emotional support alpaca? They’ll probably ask for its name and preference for sparkling water. It’s that kind of energy.

One Last Sunset, One Last Selfie, One Last Excuse to Never Fly Coach Again

Eventually, all good things must end or at least pause until your next absurdly luxurious escape. As the sun sets over the Riviera and the scent of bougainvillea drifts in the air, you’ll realize that St. Tropez isn’t a vacation. It’s a flex. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a place where you lose your phone, your inhibitions, and maybe your moral compass — but gain stories you’ll dine out on for years.

And the cherry on top? Knowing that when it’s time to leave, Platinum Jets will be waiting to fly you out like the legend you are. Back to reality, yes—but with a tan, a tote full of overpriced souvenirs, and the smug satisfaction of knowing you’ll never again board a commercial flight unless you’re slumming it for a Netflix documentary. And, never forget to Travel Till You Drop!