Drive posh

We have left the Verdon Gorge behind us, amazing drive. We continue to drive south towards the French Riviera, the drive is going to turn posh.

The first town we stop is Grasse. We know nothing about it except for it is the town where most of the story of ‘Perfume’ by Patrick Suskind took place

We are both very fond of this book. Such an amazing, beautiful, exotic but nonetheless macabre love story. So as this town is on the way, we stop, hoping to find out more about it.

Not sure about love story. Probably the most disturbing book. I have ever read. GDR

The town sits down the valley. To get there, we have to take Dora down a very steep road. And once we are here, the problem of parking again. This town has only narrow streets. What are the chances of finding a place for her? She needs a bit of extra room to manoeuvre, being a bit obese.

We eventually find a spot, right at the bottom of the town. We don’t mind walking up, as long as we leave her in a safe place. We must remember this spot. There is a school, let’s keep that as a reference.

Grasse is quite a cute, ancient, little town. Very inconvenient to live in. Whilst walking up, we remember the scenes of Perfume and we try to find where they were set.

Difficult to tell. Some of the places could either have disappeared or may be simply fiction.

Wandering around the back streets, we come across secret paths. I can picture some of the murders committed in the book.

Soon we start to see lots of perfume factories. We now start to understand Grasse. This town has been, for centuries, famous for perfumes, i.e. for making them, for trading them, for selling them… This must have been a very prosperous town back in the XVI century.

We come across the Museum of Perfume. We would have visited it but today is Tuesday, the day which most attractions are closed in France. What a shame!

Looking down from the top of this square, we see Fragonard, a famous perfume house. We pop in. They seem to have an exhibition of the different products they make as well as a guided tour to take you through the process of making perfume.

Unfortunately, the tour has already started and there won’t be another one for a couple of hours. We won’t be waiting for it that long. A look around their exhibition will do. I start to test as many perfumes as I can. After half an hour, my nose is getting overloaded with many different scents. I cannot distinguish one from another any more.

I love perfumes. When I was younger I have a collection which I used to keep on the shelves of my bedroom. Why do I like perfumes so much? Mainly because of the sense experience. Among the five senses, I find smell the most interesting one because it is linked with the area of the brain where we keep our memories. Whenever I smell perfumes which I have worn in the past it brings back vivid images of that time of my life and of the people I was close to. I find it fascinating.

We leave the perfume shop and walk back to Dora. We are not sure where we are but we are dropping, so this is a good sign.

The coffee culture is also strongly developed in France, and ‘al fresco’, the climate supports it.

Wandering around back streets, we come across very cute hidden corners.

Houses are painted with bright, vivid colours which bring life and joy to the town, even on miserable, rainy days, not that this is a miserable day, they are probably quite rare this close to the Cote D’zure

The town is ancient, houses are built on top of each other, lacking courtyards or gardens. Therefore, people keep plants just outside their houses. These big green, leafy plants contrast nicely with the bright colours of the houses.

Some of the areas in this town look quite grotty as if they have not been renovated for years.

We are still not sure where we are. We hear children playing in the distance. This must be the school which is near where we left Dora.

Finally, we find her. We continue to drive south to the coast, towards the French Riviera.

The first town we drive through, Cannes.

I know Cannes mainly for the film festival. I am intrigued of what this town looks like.There are always big expectations of a place really famous and sometimes it disappoints you. Would Cannes be that one?

We enter Cannes. Big palm trees, big hotels, big traffic jams. I have not seen anything distinct. Anyway, I am imagining  directors, producers, actors, actresses and anyone working within the film industry driven around in their big limousines. No, I can’t imagine this. This place doesn’t seem to have anything special. Maybe I will wait until I get to the beach. This may be where everything happens.

It has taken us half an hour to go through a small section of the town, we are not used to traffic. We are now on the beach and the town has transformed itself.

Lots of men in suits are walking around. Lots of stands are built along the beach. Restaurants will be doing a good trade. Something is going on. Gary starts to suspect. Is this Mipim? Yes it is. Mipim is the biggest property exhibition in Europe. I only know this festival because of him. He came here with work colleagues last year and he told me all about it. We just happen to be in Cannes when this festival takes place.

I am quite shocked. It is actually how I imagined it. There is no difference from a film festival, except that the theme is Architecture. Posh cars driving around, stands with body guards at their entrance, checking you are allowed to come in, posh food stands set up along the beach, people in suits with their sun glasses and a glass of wine, on their mobile phone, looking important…

This is probably what Cannes is about, a town which only does festivals for a living.

We continue to drive, still amazed by such a coincidence.

The other side of the town is much quieter, the beach is more beautiful. We stop here for lunch.

Gary brings work memories from last year and we discuss how much our lives have changed since then, or how much we have actively changed it.

We finish lunch and continue our posh drive along the coast. Next place we will go through, Monaco. Again, another place for which I have big expectations.

Before that, we come across hamlets of mansions and hotel complexes built on the hillside. Most of them have designated areas for people to park their yachts.

“Tell me if you want me to stop” Gary asks me. Not really. I start to get what driving along the French Riviera is about. If you stop to walk around, you miss what it means, a conglomerate of mansions, built in strategic places so that you wake up to nice views of the Mediterranean. Mansions partially hidden behind trees to keep the anonymity.

I can make out a few people sailing. “Do you think this is the dream for most people”? I ask Gary. “Yes”, he answers firmly. I am not sure if it is mine. Certainly, this one I am living in is.

Ooops, an old, historic building on the top of a hill? Here? Surprised they have not knocked it down and built on it a triple storey mansion with twenty bedrooms, ten bathrooms and and a private escalator going directly down to a, of course, private beach.

We are approaching Monaco. Gary is a follower of Formula 1. He is quite excited of seeing the circuit and trying to drive Dora around part of it. Not quite the real thing .

Monaco is the second smallest state of the world after the Vatican. Similarities between these two states? Wealthy people wanting to pay low taxes live in them. Differences? The people who live in Monaco are more transparent about it.

The Monaco landscape is dominated by high rise buildings.

Quite an interesting skyscraper in front of us. Not sure whether it is residential, hotel or simply an office building.

The state feels too crowded. Narrow, one way lanes. Quite claustrophobic to drive around with a motorhome.

Gary wants to drive around, trying to recognise some of the Formula 1 circuit. I misunderstand him and take him to the next place, Montecarlo. He is upset with me. No way to turn back.

It looks like something is going on at the casino. The police have closed the area. Right, this is it for the French Riviera. We are only a few kilometres drive to Menton, the village at the Italian border. Our second visit to France is over. We will return for the third time in Summer, to climb Mont Blanc and revisit the Verdon gorge.

SM