Europe: Nice (Cannes)

Despite the obvious, ‘I am grateful for a roof over my head and food to eat’ basics, nothing makes me happier than a hot, sunny day and beautiful boulevards of shops, parks and cafes by the beach. The soft, yellow sand beach, I should say. Which is why I couldn’t live anywhere else but home.

And Cannes.

Because Cannes is the perfect beachside town and small city combined – Louis Vuitton and Prada overlooking the beach, down the street from gelaterias and cheap shoe stores. There were yachts parked like private school girls lining up for roll call, and families playing ball games on the sand. The soft, yellow sand, I should say.

I loved Cannes. I walked the stretch of coast from one end of the film and arts obsessed town to the other, and made a desicion to bypass an expensive cruise to St Tropez and return to Cannes the following day. After paying on the beach, I discovered the most amazing chocolatier, which displayed homemade french chocolates in all flavour and sizes – and if Australian customs were any less stringent I would have spent a fortune.

But I settled on tasting the fresh hot chocolate, which arrived with two small samples of the chocolates and fresh cream. And I looked skywards into the endless blue and racked my brain to work out a way to stay longer, but I had already booked my flight and accomodation, damn it. And so I had to go.

The trainride home that second afternoon was a somber one. ‘I never wanted to leave,’ I confessed to the girls sitting opposite, nodding my head toward the coastline.

‘Me neither,’ she replied glumly, and we rode back in silence as I prepared myself to say goodbye to France. Until next time, of course.

-Sarah