The Côte d'Azur: Cannes

So. Much. Money. From driving around Cannes it is very clear that some people have far too much money. Bently. Maserati. BMW. Aston Martin. Lamborghini. Expensive cars were everywhere. And there were many expensive boats in the water too.

Cannes is great for people watching. There are a lot of tourists as well as lot of short skirts, see-through dresses and plastic surgery.  There are men you can tell must have a bit of money because they are fat and balding yet still walking around with a supermodel on their arm. It was a pretty common occurrence!

We did the touristy thing and went and looked at all the celebrity mementos everywhere. We took photos of each other on the red carpet. Yay!

Our hotel in Cannes was really little, cute and pimpin’ (if those three words can go together). It was called Hotel le Romanesque and we had a balcony and a spa bath. This was our room:

For dinner we stayed local to our Hotel and went to a restaurant just down the road called Tapis Rouge. It was delicious! We shared some escargots (Sam's first), then some duck and fish, and then crème brulee and more chocolate fondant. Super yum.  Oh and some wine. Super cheap French wine.

We went back to the hotel to enjoy the air con for a bit and thought about going out again… but the heat outside wasn’t very appealing so we flagged it and did a spot of people watching from our balcony.

The next day we packed up pretty early (we thought about going for a swim, but the beach is so crazy full of people, we decided to wait) and drove around the coast to St Raphael.

I'm pretty sure we drove past Brad & Angelina's place. 

We stopped for a swim at Agay (a little beach just outside of St Raphael) and then headed to the Mercure in Valescure to check in. 

I didn’t really enjoy Cannes all that much. It was quite expensive and there were a lot of people everywhere. It was still fun to have gone and seen all the luxury, but I don’t think I’ll be hurrying back. 

The Côte d'Azur: Menton

I’d never heard of Menton before but Lonely Planet said it was one of their top five places in the South of France to visit. And when has Lonely Planet ever told me lies? Never. That’s when.

So our first night was spent in Menton, right next to the Italian border. It was your typical Euro beach town. Beautiful beaches, with clear blue water and way too many topless people.

After checking in to our room at Hotel de Londres, we wandered along the water to the marina, took some photos like the tourists we are. We had dinner at a place called Le Festival Plage where we overlooked the beach and the marina was on our right and Italy was on our left.

That's Italy over there -

After we sat down, two glasses of Prosecco and some chips appeared. We hadn’t ordered them and not understanding what was being said they were put down, I assumed they were free. They weren’t. Oh well, still delicious.

I had entrecôte (steak), which is always a pretty safe bet and it was delicious. Sam, wanting something traditionally French, was considering the tartare. I tried to warn him that it was raw and mincey, but being determined to eat as much of the local cuisine, he ordered it anyway.

He didn’t really enjoy it, but ate it all anyway. His chocolate fondant desert more than made up for it though. Delicious!


The next morning we stuffed our faces full of croissants and brioche and wandered around the markets. New Zealand made a feature and we came across a cool museum. 

Then we headed to the beach. I went for a swim in the beautiful clear water and Sam decided to wait for the next stop. Cannes.

Later in the trip we were told Menton was for old people, but I still really like it! Apparently it’s retirement central which makes sense given that most people at our hotel were older than our parents. 

The Côte d'Azur

I went to the Côte d'Azur (aka the French Riviera) and it was amazing.

My first assessment on arriving at Nice Airport:

• It’s hot. Like a slap-in-the-face kind of hot.
• They guys at passport control look at me like ‘why even bother silly American’ when I greet them with ‘bonjour’ (even though I am handing them an NZ passport).
• There is no security. No X-Rays, no checking I’ve smuggled in an orange or some pseudoephedrine. I am definitely not arriving in to NZ.  
• The chance of being hit by a car is high. I keep looking the wrong way (cars drive on the right).
• I should’ve booked with a rental car company who were actually stationed at the airport rather than the el cheapo option I took.  
• French service is slow.

Just to elaborate a bit on points 5 and 6 a little bit:

I’d booked a rental car with a cheap company that didn’t charge me a million euros per day (I’m under 25 and there was an additional €35 added per day with most companies).  Because their cars weren’t located right by the airport, their instruction was to call them when we landed and they’d pick us up.

That was all fine until we actually tried to call.

I called them non-stop for about an hour and their phone was engaged. It was about then I was thinking that I’d been conned.

We tried to catch a taxi to the address I had but none of them would take us because it was just down the road (Google told me it was 5km away when it was really about 2km). They told us to catch a bus but then the bus drivers wouldn’t take us either.

Drama.

After calling the company we booked through (they weren’t very helpful and just told us to keep trying to call). We did finally get through and got to the location and got a super sweet Renault Clio. And after sitting behind some other tourist who blocked the drive for about 10 minutes we were on our way - woohoo!

On driving in France:

• Right-hand-side. Stay on the right-hand-side.

I managed this pretty well. I occasionally stopped awkwardly in the middle of intersections because I wasn’t sure if I was meant to give way or if it was a one way street. I only drove down a one way street the wrong way once. Win.

• The French love roundabouts.

Once I got over the fact I had to drive round them anti-clockwise, rather than clock-wise, they became my best friend. Lost and want to turn around? Wait for a roundabout. Not sure which street you want? Keep circling until you spot it.

• The French drive fast.

Like really fast.  The speed limit is 50km? Drive at 70km. The speed limit on the motorway is 110-130km.

• On the motorway, you aren’t allowed to undertake.

I actually really like this one. It makes a lot of sense. If you want to drive slowly, stay in the right hand lane. If you want to drive fast, move to the left hand lane.

• No one indicates.

I used to get angry in NZ when people didn’t indicate. In France it’s just accepted. You just assume everyone wants to pull in front of you. When someone does indicate – it’s a nice little bonus.

• Drivers don’t stop at pedestrian crossings unless they absolutely have to.

I witnessed a three car pile-up when one car did actually stop.

• You’re not really driving in France unless you’re using your horn.

If you get angry, toot your horn. Someone’s driving too slow? Toot. Cyclist in the way? Toot. Pedestrians crossing too slow? Toot. It works in all situations. 

Hyde Park Squirrels

I. Love. Squirrels.

Possibly the best thing about living in the UK, these little mammals make me so happy with their cute little faces and big bushy tails. I have been to Hyde Park a number of times (it's usually a pretty reliable squirrel watching spot because they're all so tame there) with a bag of nuts to feed them. All the while, locals walk past giving me disgusted looks. It probably should bother me but I really don’t care that some others think they are vermin. Possums, rats, grey pigeons even, are about 100 times worse in my opinion!

Anyway, I ventured to Hyde Park one particularly pretty spring day with Sam and fed some squirrels. It was the highlight of my week. Some other (asian) tourists even came along and took photos of me feeding the squirrels. It made me blush.

Here are some pics of us in Hyde Park and my super cute, furry friends - squirrels!

Ps. I saw one climbing a tree today on my way home. Today was a good day. 

Royal Ascot

I went to Royal Ascot a few weekends ago. I got to dress up pretty. It was a full-filled day with a picnic, rain, prosecco smuggled in inside a loaf of bread and drama.

A jockey fell off his horse and the horse went on to finish the race. In the same race the winning horse had a heart attack right after and died. But apart from that it was a great day!

Here are some photos of the occasion: