Cannes & Whynot

After a lovely stay in Nice, I pattered up into a bouncing bus to Cannes (for anyone who is prone to carsickness, I recommend taking the train). Two hours of dreamy, starched-white small chateaux of Cagnes-sur-Mer, and hollywood-worthy, gated mansions of Anthibes later, I hopped off at the pinnacle of the european film world.

The Palais des festivals

A few favorites

After staring a bit at women on four inch heels shuffling out of the train station with pradas and toy dogs, I was greeted by the grinning Clément, my second couchsurfing host of the riviera.
Clément actually lived in Le Cannet, up in the hills behind downtown. He tore off up the winding road like a natural Formula One driver. I held my own after having had spent a year in the backwoods of Missouri. He warned me on arrival that I was to meet 'Whynot', a pooch a bit 'foufou' but very sweet. ....But very foufou. I at once got the idea as the good-sized pup began to show his enthusiasm for visiters like a kangaroo on a pogostick.

Outside the café bohème,
where I finally found some
life shatteringly tasty french food.

Staying with Clément was such a treat. I can't start rambling about the advantages as I don't want to set up  expectations for future couchsurfers, but you can trust me, he's an absolute pearl.

I will just say, he makes the hot chocolate of your dreams.

And we played an incredibly sweet funny video game, something I thought was an oxymoron.

He also has great rap recommendations.

Alright I'll stop there.




The following mid-morning I lumbered off. The sea intoxicating yet again.
With only one afternoon to spend to see the sites, I took the fast track with a tourist choo choo train.

We scooted down La Croisette and around the sealine to see the Palm Beach Casino, the harbors, and to catch a glipse of the Lérins Islands. The bigger one, St Marguerite, harbored the original 'man in the iron mask' (I don't know about you but for me a picture of a young leonardo dicaprio comes to mind).

The Castle

The train then huffed up the hill to the Castle and Notre Dame Church (must haves of every French city).

Rue d'Antibes,
a taste of the best shopping in France

Similar to Milan, LA, Paris, London, and every spectacular city full of gorgeous people, shopping is necessity. Which I almost avoided.


After seeing everyone and their dog in a burberry (you think I'm joking but I kid not...), I had a fancy to go find my own, and where better than the designer shop named after the trendy rain jacket? My jeans and khaki backpack slid between the Burberry glass doors, received by amused expressions behind marble counters. I hesitated. It was too late to go back. A few minutes later I then had to assure myself that in another life I could easily afford a 1200 euro raincoat, but this civilian had to shimmy on out. After treating myself to a recovery tea and some bonding time with my kindle, I found a charming boutique with spiffy sales and a good-natured convincing clerk. Much more up my alley.

I spent a bit of time then traversing the coast before setting off for dinner. Unfortunately there wasn't a lot of sun, but the breeze was cool, crisp and revitalizing.

After dinner, we assumed it was high time to act like the film stars we naturally were born to be.
A fleeting moment of stardom is good for the soul.






















Seeing the Riviera was realizing a dream, but without the cherishable kindness and depth of two extraordinary couchsurfers, it could have merely given me a bird's eye view. Instead I laughed, pondered, learned about the love of zombies and my animal totem (separately), and felt thoroughly at home.

La Croisette