Oui Cannes!

One reason we picked the Riviera for this experimental winter stay in France (other than the fact that it’s warmer here than in Maine by about 30 - 40 degrees most days) is the great local transportation system.   By bus or by train, you can wander up and down the coast and (by bus) into the hills and hinterland.   The bus network costs 1 Euro per ride – about $1.30 and can take you from Cannes all the way to the Italian border.

I’ve only been to Cannes once before,  for a luxury travel conference, when Air France lost my luggage and I stomped around under the sunshine for five days in my winter boots.  I saw only the breakfast room (very lovely, with a sea view) and my room (don’t remember it) and the conference (very crowded), and a long string of luxury shops lining the Croisette.   Not my style, really.

But we’re here and it’s close, so we went.  And it turns out that off-season at least, Cannes has another side, less glamour-girl movie festival and more down home France - with a few luxury touches, of course.

We arrived on a really good day.  A big brocante (flea market) had set up near the port, right next to a sizable Christmas Market and across from a carnival of rides. 

Of course being Cannes there were furs for sale, as well as other items.

So we browsed and then made our way through the old part of Cannes, called Le Suquet, where a good market street ran up to the base of the hill.  You can always tell which shops are the best, by the lines waiting.  Obviously this butcher shop is a good one.

The top of the hill holds a church and a museum, with good views down across the town and the bay with its fleet of yachts.

There’s also a huge covered market, much larger than the one here in Antibes, surrounded by cafés and restaurants.

 

Note that there are exotic products imported even from the USA.

 And something I'd never seen before.  At the café outside the market where we stopped for coffee, blankets were thoughtfully provided, in case the sitting got too chilly.

Lest you forget that you’re in the city of the film festival, some of the wall paintings will remind you.   Gérard Philipe, a famous French actor born in Cannes, adorns one of the city’s painted walls.  

And leaving on the bus, we spotted another movie icon.

Provencal Market in Antibes

I love markets.   Over time I’ve become a market addict and it’s always on my list of must-do’s for wherever we are.   Now, for a little while, not only do I get to visit the market, I get to take things home for lunch and dinner.   

  

 

The Provencal Market in Antibes has been named one of the world’s best.  Set in a permanent building at one end of Vieil Antibes (the old town), just beside the old ramparts and the port, it's the place everyone heads for.  At this time of year the weekdays are a bit quiet (it’s open every day but Monday in winter), but Saturdays and Sundays the space overflows with both vendors and shoppers, everyone intent on getting what they need and then home for Sunday dinner.  

Fruits and vegetables, herbs and spices, candied fruits and olives…olives…olives.  

For Christmas there were people selling holly and mistletoe, as well as big hunks of nougat and fresh oysters.   On one end you can buy socca,  the big crepe made of chick-pea flour and olive oil, fresh from the wood-fired oven, sprinkled with pepper.   

 

Vendors offer tastes of tapenade, of cheese, of olives, so you can nibble your way through the throng.   Some are even willing to put you to work.

 Along the side are cafés and restaurants, shops selling fresh pasta and foie gras, more fish and pâtés, roasted chicken and rabbit.   On Sundays a small section of the clothing market migrates down to the entrance and you can pick up a scarf or sweater as well.

On Saturday and Sunday afternoon, the artisan’s market takes over and you can stroll through displays of artwork, pottery and sculpture. 

A little Christmas...

It’s a mild day in Antibes, and at 10 in the morning, people are out, mostly heading for the bakery and today’s bread and special desserts for dinner.  We had coffee and a croissant at one of the nearby cafés and watched the scene for a while.

We did get a Christmas tree – if you look carefully, you’ll see that the only decorations lightweight enough to decorate it were my earrings!   We added our gingerbread heart (pain d’épices) from the Christmas market in Strasbourg and our oh-so-elegant little bûches de Noel  from the new pastry/chocolate shop down the street, which managed to open its doors just a few days before Christmas.   Life is sweet.  May yours be as well.

Merry Christmas!

Noel, Noel...

 

Last weekend, after our excursion by bus, we wandered down to the water (Place Albert 1er) and found that the leaders of the groups of kids were assembling for the evening ‘torchlight’ parade.   Each group had its our style of funny hat and big balloons sporting the name of the group – schools, I think.   It looked more like a party for the adults.    

We walked around and took pictures, sat down and had a beer and waited for the little kids to assemble, which they very slowly did, cars stopping and dropping off moms and babies and strollers.  Finally, when it was almost dark and the Christmas lights came on, the big announcement came and they sort of lined up.   

Lining up neatly is not a  French skill, but they managed to get themselves in some sort of order.  Then all the lights on the street were turned out, and  the kids at the head of the line started moving, with their little electric lanterns lit, following the petit train, which usually drives the tourists around town, but had been borrowed  to  haul the band playing Christmas music ahead of them.   

 NOT the children’s band we’d heard earlier laboriously making its way up and down the scales, but one that could do fanfares, and, upon arrival at Place DeGaulle, launch into a suitably strong rendition of Petit Papa Noel.   There we waited through a long  speech from the emcee, urging the people upstairs in the surrounding buildings to turn out the lights in their apartments so as not to interfere with the sound and light show, exhorting people to clap for the kids, the municipal employees, the organizers and then to move out of the way and let the kids through.  

Finally the program was announced, the trees turned purple and aqua and Père Noel appeared and promised a journey to fairyland – and then the trees turned color again and something electrical went haywire and everything stopped.

At that point we admitted our sore feet and headed home (the sound and light show runs every night from now till Christmas, so we may yet see it.).   There’s a small Christmas fair in our square, so we stopped to watch the kids with their cotton candy (in French it’s barbe à papa – papa’s beard).

The following day, under absolutely brilliant sunshine, we rode the bus to Nice, and arrived on the Promenade des Anglais in the middle of a Christmas tree market.  All sizes of Christmas trees – well, all French sizes, which means the smallest is a foot tall and the largest is about 6 feet tall.  

 For people with high ceilings, the French don’t seem to hanker for tall trees.   Trees are expensive – 35 Euros for a tree that came up to my waist.  Still, there were plenty of buyers and a variety of ways to get them home.

We wandered around there for a while before heading into Vieux Nice to find lunch.  In the late afternoon, the Med was still a gorgeous blue and the surf was actually crashing.  And even bigger crowds of people were out walking the Promenade.

Alas, since then our beautiful blue skies have turned gray, but we’re hoping they’ll return soon.   Maybe for Christmas day.

Le Père Noel Pendant (or Santa on a Rope)

The Christmas decorations in Alsace were spectacular (see earlier post) and the lights on the Riviera are not shabby either (more on that a little later).   But it’s the personal efforts that are catching my eye as we’ve gone from town to town.   It might be that these are popular back home this year and I just don’t know it, since we left in November.  But, at least here in the south of France, one of the most popular motifs seems to be what I’m calling ‘Santa on a rope.’

Père Noel (Father Christmas)  used to look a bit more like Saint Nicholas in the illustrations, but the only Saint Nicolas I’ve seen so far this season have been made of chocolate.   I read that the French adopted ‘le look’ of Santa Claus when the post war Marshall Plan brought the images of a Coca Cola Santa here and displaced the older style.   Evidently Coke didn’t include the reindeer, as there haven’t been many sleighs and Rudolphs in evidence.

So, at least this year here, Père Noel clings to flowering balconies and blue shutters,  or restaurant menus posted outside the door.   

Sometimes he seems to be hanging by a thread, sometimes a rope ladder.  There are times when he seems to be levitating

Sometimes there are quite a few of him.

 

I was pondering the rope ladder versus traditional chimney approach and realized that all these buildings are apartments.   So I imagine the kids – “But how will le Père Noel find us?  The chimney doesn’t lead to our apartment.” –“Don’t worry, mon petit.  Le Père Noel will come through the balcony.  He knows which one is ours.”

A Stroll Around the Place

I’m not kidding when I saw everything you could possibly need is in walking distance of our little apartment.   The other day we walked around our Place, Place Nationale,  and took stock of our surroundings.  Enough restaurants and cafés and such to eat forever, clothing stores, a tiny grocery, a patisserie, a museum and more.   All together in a space smaller than many parking lots.

Back home in Maine, we live in the country.  What you find when you walk out the door is garden, field,sky, trees, rock walls.  We love it.   But shopping or browsing or just canoodling around beyond the garden means you have to get in the car and drive.

Here it’s the exact opposite.   We’re in the center of the old part of Antibes, where driving and parking require that local touch.  No car for us here.  Besides, if you’re driving, you need all your attention just to get where you’re going.   No time to admire the surroundings.

Here’s a short tour of our immediate neighborhood.

Starting at one corner, there’s a café that serves small meals and snacks all day long, not to mention good café au lait.

 

If you’re in a bigger hurry, just across the corner is a take-out place that makes sandwiches and paninis.

And an ice cream shop that also sells gaubres (those thick Belgian waffles) and churros (a little bit of Spain here too!)

Then there’s a clothing store, all decorated for Christmas.

Next comes Maxi-Bazaar, a sort of dollar store//Christmas tree shop (or for Mainers, Reny’s!) squished into a narrow three floor space.   Everything for your apartment, Chrismtas and also souvenirs of Provence!

 

Next is another shop that sells table linens and other fabric items, followed by a jewelry store.

On the next side of the square, there’s a small grocery store (really small), a fishmonger, a knife store, and the small local police station.

There’s also the Musée Peynet, dedicated to an illustrator born here, Raymond Peynet.

The next section is restaruant row, with four restaurants lined up, one after the other.  I expect that in the summer, they overflow but in December things are fairly quiet.

Somewhere in there are also a hat shop and a hairdresser, and an empty space that used to be a hotel and restaurant.

Finally, on the last side of the square, there’s a fancy gelateria. A going-out –of business watch store,  a patisserie/chocolate shop, a shop selling Provencal wares, a clothing store, a jeweler, a pharmacy, a newstand, and a bank.

Right now the center of the sqaure is given over to Christmas.  A little more on that later.