French Riviera

8/4 French Riviera

readied for short drive into outer edge Marseilles where we plan to bike about the Old Port BUT....... the howling’Mistral’ rocking all 3 tonnes of Eddie and whipping the ocean over his windscreen had us reconsider the collective enjoyment of the family in such conditions.

More comfortable from Ed’s cozy interior, joggers outside sheltering their eyes from the sand/dust & pressing with futility against the wind. No Eddie parks, cycling paths being worked on - decision made! Through Marseilles, onto a beautiful but congested stroll along the Med French Riviera toward Cogolin for the night. This coast not really our scene though - crowded, restaurants, shops, fancy pants folk. 

Cogolin a nice small town several kms from St Tropez, well equipped campsite, the kids elated to find a pack of eager Frenchies wanting to incorporate them into their scooter & bike games. The pack followed the van in through the boom gates and hovered around whilst we set up.

Later the crowds swelled fourfold with the arrival of a large group of older (& softer) Harley bikers from Bourdeaux, Kel still struggling & bobbing back for a lie down between plays. Wil zipping about, a gaggle of French pretties in tow, who followed him to the shower, his worried father washing the dishes nearby acting the secret chaperone, ready to pounce should 1 little Charlotte get any ideas.  Innocently they just stand outside his shower and sing to him, he back to them, song frequently broken by a cacophony of giggles.  Ah this is the life hey son! 

9/4

Happy Anniversary to us! Thanks for your message Mom darling.

17 years continuing to gather power,magic,mystery,admiration and commitment every year as well as making plans for our active, adventure travelling future sans kids (given the blessing of good health and good fortune!)

Back to near normal morning exercise whilst kids school (punctuated with regular ‘plays’ with  Frenchie ‘best friends ever’...especially classy 12 year old Menot) before nesting/cleaning in Ed. European lunch of breads,cheese,pates,tomatoes & greens.

Bike ride into town to try and locate marina and instead found farms (with hairy pigs!), bored noisy youths on scooters,vineyards and more interesting street art.

Home to sundowner whilst kids make us an anniversary pasta salad. Adult selection of movie ( Toy Story 3). 

Wil showing some wobblies missing mateship & peer group.

10/4  Cogolin to St Tropez to Canne to Nice - and lots of rain

kids woken this am ( they tell me with indignation “for the 6th time this year!”) so we can school & then park up at large shopping centre (Geant Casino) and bike into St Tropez.

It’s proving bloody frustrating trying to manoeuvre about the Med coast amongst the phenomenal congestion of the cruising glitzy set especially in Eddie. Roads are packed with porsches & maseratis and culture vultures that just sneak past all the road works. The “glamour” coastal traffic continues 24 hours - thank goodness for our velos! St Tropez was is not the terracotta coastal fishing village that swells & distorts with the sun, I suspect it is distorted all year round. Mansions, stink boats, botox, fake tan an d blonde hair, eateries, shopping clutters every inch & all in a strip like the Gold Coast - Ugggh. Always keen to see markets, we soldiered on through the cold wind,grey skies and drizzle to see bric-a-brac crap. 

Out of the markets and down to the port for a dunny stop and an ice cream and found ourselves sitting next to a big royal blue stink boat - The “Blue Florentin” which was preparing to depart, it’s obese German 70 something owner with his 20 something (or 50 + surgery/needles) chick sitting out the back while the 5 staff buzz about untying, retracting, furling and heaving, a crowd of 100+ gather to gawk, but we wander off when the ice cream is done.

Underwhelmed with St Tropez, we cycled home (Kel now doing a great job on the bike, gathering confidence) to our warm Ed, do a huge grocery shop (much more expensive than Spain but still less than home) and made for Canne where we planned to stay overnight in an “aire” we found in a chat forum on the net and then see the film festival stuff.  Raining when we get there, the “aire” is a carpark at a supermarket on a very busy road, so we drive on past the “Bunker” where the stars strut their stuff and the awards are given out .

Outta town to the Massif L’Esterel. 

Utterly magnificent wild coast of red mountains, blue sea, red rock beaches and tasty homes taking the curve of the cliffs, all unfortunately under a very heavy sky.  Somehow human pollution / development has not littered this stupendous bit of coast (as much). What is built here undulates with the topography and being made of the local red earth quietly & respectfully sits beneath the massifs in awe of the surrounding ocean. Unfortunately, the wind & rain and prediction of more to come tomorrow had the family out-vote mum in her overwhelming urge to stomp the hills and lose a few days here.

So....onward Nice-ward, getting dark, rain teeming down, negotiating the freeway and then back alleys to a little street side stop for a snooze after a quick mum dinner of bread, pate, metwurst, nuts and divine cheese.

11/4 Nice to Monaco, thence to St Paul de Vence

Another day of waking the kids - slave drivers - it’s 7:30!  It rained all night but the sky is blue! Gotta get close to Nice early for any chance of a park within bike riding distance.  Blessed with a great boulevard stop, we fed the meter & set off for a thoroughly enchanting day in the bright light of Nice. 

First along the Boulevard Anglais, where glitz and brawn in line skate for kilometers alongside the impossibly azure ocean all the way into centre ville. 

Off left is the colourful markets exploding with dense bunches of heavenly scented delicate roses, lavender & poppies.

Beautiful old Nice with painted facades, bright green or blue window shutters & terracota balcony pots spilling over with soft blooms watch over the slow moving market-goers. 

Round the corner sits the magical port with all time represented from old wooden boats coloured like rainbows, Jeff’s dream sleek invariably white “cats” and silver & black stink boats of gargantuan proportions.....hey!  There amongst them the Blue Florentin, looking quite forlorn and insignficant, deck bereft of it’s fat master.

We made a quick stop at the museum palace and walked out impressed but not touched. Home to Eddie, prepared lunch on the boulevard, ate on the promenade watching the planes come in to land, the a’letes sproinking by in lycra and the chics sunning their bra strap lines and smoking on the rocky “beach”, and we’re off to gawk at Monaco.

Nice Lunch at the beach

Sweeping corniches offer spectacular views on the 15 minute trip to Monaco. Can’t drive in, fancy ‘Gendarme says “no”. Streams of Bentleys, Porches, BMWs, Mercedes, Maseratis heading in. Several polished Jaguar taxis (!).  Gawk from French side of border at this pocket sized debauched state. Leave for St Paul de Vence in land toward Provence.

Met with meandering hills, vineyards, babbling brooks, nags grazing, snow capped peaks of the French Alps one layer back but still densely peopled with rich folk in convertibles, following TomTom directions to St Paul de Vence, gorgeous little hilltop village where we park up and walk, under the arches through the stone walls and into a cobbled alley with a dozen of the finest art shops we have ever seen - spectacular sculptures (especially beautiful female forms, and kids) and amazing paintings. 

The prices are on the back of the labels and ranged from as little as 8000 euro (A$10000) for a small painting to 65000 euro for the brass sculpture of the dancing lady - that’s when we stopped checking the prices - next time!  Yes, it impressed us so much that we would conceive of spending this sort of money at a future life stage.

Wil now struggling with hot/cold and aches and sore throat (agh!) so skipped out of there and up the hill a few kms to a nice paid campsite where Kel cycled, parents had a 1/2 bottle of red in the sun, had a gnosh-up Jen dinner, laughed a lot renaming each other (Wil=Susan, Jeff=Marg, Kel=Kevin and Jen=Bovril!), Wil seeming a bit better and lights out - another great day in the south of France - beginning to understand what the fuss is all about.