"CANNES - TOO SMART FOR ITS OWN GOOD " a Cannes Travel Page by JohnnySpangles

The thing that strikes you about Cannes is how smart it is. The people for instance, especially the women, have an in-built sense of style. They seem to know what looks good without being told. You get the feeling that the phrase ‘Does my bum look big in this?’ has never passed their lips. If you sit in a bar on the Croisette, which is the main promenade along the seafront, and watch the world pose by you are totally overwhelmed by how attractive the people are. These people were made to be looked at, and they know it. I suppose it helps that it’s by the sea, the weather’s clement and they’re French to start with. If you were sat in a bar on the Costa Blanca then the women you would see there would be predominantly British, bloated, lobster-red and their backsides would be spilling out in all directions from crimplene shorts. Indeed these would be arses designed not for looking at, as they are undoubtedly in Cannes, but only ever really meant for flopping over bar stools until they get drunk and fall off.

The place itself exudes smartness. The Croisette is a palm-lined avenue with grand hotels like the Majestic and the Carlton on one side and the Mediterranean on the other. Not that you can get that close to the sea, as the beaches are private and owned by the hotels. If you want to go for a paddle then you need to go to the public beach near the Palais De Festival, where the film festival is held. Outside of this building are paving stones with the handprints of famous Hollywood superstars and a whole host of French actors that you’ve never heard of. You can spend an entertaining five minutes grinding your heel into Sylvester Stallone’s fingers. If you walk around the other side of the Palais then you come to the harbour. This is usually full of expensive yachts bearing names that are subtly understated expressions of wealth such as ‘Tax Dodge III’ and ‘Rich Mother VII’. They’re mostly registered in the Cayman Islands, surprisingly. Cannes has that habit of constantly reminding you that someone, somewhere has loads more money than you are ever going to have. Although it’s not quite as bad as Monte Carlo, which is about an hour’s train ride away, where it’s so antiseptically posh that even the car parks are carpeted.

Where Cannes really scores though is the food. It doesn’t matter which restaurant you go in, it’s all excellent and reasonably priced. Soupe de Poissons is on nearly every menu and it’s almost a meal in itself. It’s the best soup you’ll ever taste. It tastes even better when it’s being supped from a table outside a restaurant in Cannes as the sun goes down on a gloriously warm evening whilst you reflect on how life doesn’t get much better than this. I presume the extra flavour comes from all the smugness

If you walk around the harbour, past the Sofitel Hotel on the headland you come to another public beach. As it’s outside of the main area there are usually only a few locals on the beach, with knotted hankies on their heads. It’s here though, that you’ll find the best restaurant in the world. It’s opposite the beach and it’s called Le Palais Oriental. Lashings of North African couscous, washed down with Moroccan wines and mint tea. Just as you’ve finished your main course a belly dancer comes out to entertain you. As I’ve very rarely seen more than five people in there at any one time you get to spend a lot of quality time with her. There’s no finer aid to the digestion than a pair of sequined breasts bobbing around in front of your nose.

So if you are heading for the Cote d’Azur, and plan to go to Cannes, make sure you go with an empty belly and a full wardrobe.