Today was 'Play tourist in Cannes' day. We were up at about 07:30 so that we could make an early start as the weather forecast predicted blue skies and 25°C temperatures, and from our experience on this trip they seem to predict a bit on the low side, it was far more likely to reach something like 29°C.
I think we were on the bus at about 08:45 which was pretty good.
We arrived in Cannes at about 10:00 and it was already very warm. There didn't seem to be a huge amount to see there. Yes it was all very nice, it had a couple of marinas, one for super-yachts and one for predominantly sailing yachts, but everywhere along this coast seems to have that, it's probably me but it's all looking a bit samey.
There was the location for the Cannes Film Festival of course. It's a theatre which is an impressive modern building, and also houses a casino. I was feeling peckish and so we sat down very close to the theatre for a crusty filled baguette, which came to about €9 for the two. We joined an elderly couple of chaps at a small table who, it turned out lived there (and probably together, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, know what I mean? Know what I mean?). They told us that when the Cannes Film Festival is on, the steps up to the doors are covered in red carpet and the whole area is cordoned off. They said these days you don't get to see much of the 'Stars'. They said Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie stay in next door Antibes and arrive by boat.
These people really do live in a bubble and take themselves far too seriously. Acting, now I'm sure there's a bit of skill in it, but it's hardly nuclear physics, or cardiac surgery is it? Or that new science that will enable them to implant a brain cell between Wayne Rooney's ears. Back home we have 'Red Brick' University qualifications in things like 'Media Studies' and 'Drama', but that just tells a prospective supermarket employer 'Drama - likes to wave hands about a bit, ideal as a shelf stacker. 'Media Studies' - likes to sit around - Till operator. I bet Angelina Jolie hasn't got a degree in 'Media Studies' or 'Drama', but then she's not the one stacking tins of baked beans in a supermarket.
Incidentally I've heard that 'Yorick', the skull geezer in 'Hamlet' is up for ‘Best Actor’ next year.
We continued our walk along the promenade. The one big difference here was SAND, it was a beach with sand, lots of it. We hadn't seen the stuff since we left southern Croatia. I think it may well have been trucked in though as all along the beach, about two hundred yards out were man-made sea defences lying just under the surface, which I concluded was to stop any rough seas coming in and washing away the sand. Either way it was very nice to see, and it was appreciated by the holiday makers as there were loads of them down on the beach.
When I said 'one big difference' I really meant two. The second was incontinent dogs. I've never been anywhere before with so many dried up dog pee stains , but worse still yellow puddles everywhere. Nobody seems the least bit bothered, it's the norm, everybody just steps over them or walks around them, and sometimes through them. Local restaurants make no effort to wash them away, it's most disturbing. Not only that but it's the types of dogs in places like this. Not so much dogs more 'Hairy Rats', the very worst kind, the kind that if a chap back home owned one and walked it in to the local pub, or had it tucked in to his pocket, maybe even with a bow in its hair, upon arrival of the local 'Hells Angels' chapter, could reasonably expect them, upon sight of the 'dog' perform an unspeakable and unnatural act upon his nether regions since, with a dog like that, he was obviously 'gagging for it'.
We eventually arrived at the second marina, the one with the super-yachts, on the edge of town, when we concluded we'd seen enough of how the rich indulge themselves and that what we really wanted was a drink, so we made our way along the back streets running parallel with the promenade. We eventually picked on a small place with a few tables and chairs outside and sat down. The owner asked us what we wanted and we ordered two beers, one large one small, and a serving of fries. Now I'm sure I saw on the wall-mounted menu that a serving of fries was €3, anyhow when The Chef asked to pay we were charged €15 including the beers, which was a rip-off; it wasn't even a smart place.
So Cannes was nice then. I didn't think the architecture was anything like as impressive as Nice, but Rosina felt it had more of a smell of money about it. Well it did, it had fifteen Euros’ of ours.
This evening has been spent with me typing this whilst The Chef prepared a salad with cold new potatoes peeled and microwaved rather than put in to a saucepan with water (a little artistic input there from her driver (10 minutes at 800W, no water added)).
Tomorrow will be a rest day and it is likely that we will move on the following day, Saturday, up in to the Provence region for a bit of a Drive-Thru, then on to the Loire region.
It's not yet dark, the evening is lovely and warm, she's still outside reading MY book, and I bet when she comes in she's going to beg me for more 'Doc Martin'.