The spot to watch the sunset on the Côte d’Azur is from the jacuzzi on the terrace of the Suite Chateau at Château Eza.

Here, at 427 meters above sea level, the views over the coast are mesmerizing. The cars meandering along the Basse Corniche, the coastal road, have shrunk to miniatures, as has the yacht-lined marina. Behind them, the jagged outline of the Alpes-Maritimes rises steeply from the waterline.

Tucked behind the billionaire’s headland of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat is Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, with its runway jutting out into the Mediterranean Sea. A plane takes off, heading westward over the other billionaire’s headland, Cap d’Antibes. Soon it disappears behind the silhouette of the Esterel mountain range, the furthest point of the view.

With its improbable location, a huddle of stone buildings seemingly glued onto the side of a sheer limestone outcrop, Èze Village has long been the place to come for some of the region’s most expansive views. To enjoy them, most visitors head toward the Jardin Exotique d’Èze, a cactus garden that threads a path among the ruins of the medieval fortress that once crowned the village.

Checking into Château Eza feels like I’ve been ushered into the village’s ultra-exclusive VIP area. Before we’re shown to our suite, I’m taken to a private terrace suspended above the sea for a welcome glass of Champagne. It’s March, and the Côte d’Azur is starting to stir from its winter slumber. The hotel is almost at capacity – 13 out of 14 rooms and suites are full. Most of the other guests appear to be Monaco types, here to chat business in hushed tones over dishes plated like works of art at the property’s Michelin-starred restaurant, helmed by acclaimed chef Justin Schmitt.

Once the last course of a modern French degustation menu has been served, they will linger over the late evening views through the floor-to-ceiling windows before weaving their way back through the pedestrianized alleys to their rooms, scattered across the village like hidden chambers in a medieval puzzle.

An idyll fit for royalty

The various village homes of the property were acquired one by one by Prince Wilhelm of Sweden and became his collection of cherished treasures. The renowned francophile had fallen in love with the setting during a visit in the 1920s, the decade when the Côte d’Azur hummed with literary and creative types such as Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Inside ‘The Prince of Sweden’s Castle’, as his cluster of homes became known, the prince found the quiet needed to write several books. This Riviera idyll lasted until 1953, when, upon the death of his lover, he fled back to Sweden, never to return.

Without its custodian, the property began to fracture back into individual homes until it was saved by wealthy Genevan diplomat and General Delegate of the International Red Cross, André Rochat, in the late 70s. Piecing it back together house by house, his investment assured the future of what is now one of southern France’s premier hotels.

My suite has exposed stone walls and an open fireplace in the room. The period furnishings are full of character, from framed, gilded mirrors to a grandfather clock that, thankfully, doesn’t chime on the hour, every hour. It’s like I’ve fallen asleep on the grand, four-poster bed, only to wake in another era.

I snap back to reality, in the best way, over breakfast served with a view in the same panoramic dining room as dinner the night before. Keen to play the location advantage, I step outside and disappear into the charming cobblestone passages. After a blissful half hour in the exotic garden with a few other visitors, I browse the village’s art galleries and perfume boutiques at my doorstep just as the first of the tourist buses arrive for the day.

A night at Château Eza unlocks more than history; it also enables guests to experience a side that most who visit this beloved village don’t hang around long enough to see. Then there are those sunsets over the Mediterranean, sure to linger in your memory long after you’ve gone.