Hotel Colette
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Travel Blogs from Cannes
Day 16 - The Monte Carlo
... was the Monte Carlo. We put a little extra effort into getting ready swapping our hiking boots for flats and actually brushing my hair. All dolled up we caught a train in. There were amazing fountains and a big silver dome thingo that reflected the city we walked in after getting out ID's checked taking in the fabulousness that was the Monte Carlo Casino. I was gambling on a backpackers budget so I had my €5 ready to splurge. A woman came up to ...
We return to the ancestral manse
... gravel court just adjacent to the café. The thud and scrape of the metal balls, which we could hear from our house, sounded just the same.
We walked past the Café down the sloping narrow road to our old house, La Golondrina. The apt name means swallows; we had lots of them. We stood in front of the metal gate we’d opened hundreds of times to walk down the stone path to the house. But now we had no more right to do so than did any of the many tourists ...
Odds and Ends
French Pets - France is a dog lover's heaven. The French take their dogs everywhere. We were in a nice restaurant and noticed a furry tail wagging under the tablecloth. We even saw a small dog in his owner's shopping cart at the grocery store. They are mostly small dogs that can be carried or easily restrained on a leash. Often you will see a pair of Scottie's or Maltese walking along the Croisette or shopping in one of the elegant shops. You will ...
French Riviera
... Kuwait registration plate. I wonder who the owner could be? Cannes is famous for its annual film festival when lots of celebrities embark on this town. After dinner, we had a short walk around and then plunged into our beds. (Well, not exactly because I'm writing this in our hotel, Les Coralynes right now). We know that tomorrow will be a long day travelling our third leg, Cannes to Verona. ...
Lifes a beach and then some
... especially at less than 20€ a portion. Another thought from last night. In discussion with the waiter in the Pacific Express, he asked where we were staying. When we said La Bocca, he stopped, looked at us and told us that he lived there also. Then showed us a photo of his (beautiful) daughter. It’s one of the great things about La Bocca. In the slightly unreal world that is Cannes, La Bocca is real and local and alive.
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