Going to language immersion camp for the last two weeks of summer vacation doesn't mean it all work and no play. How can it be . . . when camp is situated on the French Riviera?
We had the afternoons and weekends free to relax or explore, and while we're not the jet setting type, we couldn't resist checking out the three main playgrounds for the rich and famous along the Côte d'Azur: Saint Tropez, Cannes, and Monaco. They were all worth a look-see, but I don't need to go back; there are much sweeter, less glitzy places in this region that are more our speed.
Hey! Hey! St-Tropez!
St Tropez is just under an hour-long boat ride from where we were staying in
Saint Raphael. Taking a boat is easier than driving the long, two-lane road leading into town with the throngs of tourists who visit the village during the summer (up to 100,000 people
per day). The village was made famous in the 1950's by the film,
And God Created Woman, starring Brigitte Bardot.
Bardot dropped out of the entertainment industry in the early 70's and retired to St Tropez where she became extremely private and an ardent animal rights activist (not a popular cause in France, a nation of gourmands).
St Tropez may be insane during the summer, but it appears things calm down dramatically off-season--almost like the fishing port it once was. Much of the medieval structures remain, along with twisting, tiny roads and alleyways.
It's a strange mix of the extremely affluent, who own private villas or come in by yacht, along with everyday locals. It's a place to see-and-be-seen, but also where residents and vacationers can find privacy and live side-by-side with ease.
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| A cream tarte made only in Saint Tropez, a local specialty that totally lives up to the hype. Yummy. |
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| Cafe, with bucket of champagne prepared for elite guests and painting of BB. |
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| Reese bought a new pair of sunglasses with his birthday money. |
Unlike St Tropez, privacy is
not the name of the game in
Cannes. This seaside town is all about being seen, seeing-who-you-can-see, and the nightlife. Obviously, it's famous for its international film festival in May, but the Promenade de la Croisette, a glamorous walking stretch along the shore with upscale restaurants, hotels and shops, is also a very well known. There's not much to do in Cannes besides the beach, people-watching, discos, and eating. We visited with a few friends from French camp.
The drive from Saint Raphael to Cannes had been repeatedly described to us as the most beautiful along the entire French Riviera:
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| The Ritz Carlton. |
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| The beach in Cannes is lined with private boardwalks used for sunbathers; this is the Ritz Carlton's. |
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| We are not above this, even in Cannes. |
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| New hair weave for Abigail. |
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| New Panama hat for Reese. |
Oh,
Monaco.
It's the world's second smallest country (the Vatican takes the prize), and last Saturday we spent the day there. It was the beginning of our long drive home, which would ultimately take us from France through
Monaco, Italy, Switzerland, Germany and Holland.
It was an education for me, but Monaco is the country (or principality), and Monte Carlo is the primary district within the country . . . you know, the one with the casino. There's also an Old Monaco, a medieval village perched above Monte Carlo (as if awaiting invasion), but the two districts are worlds apart.
Once inside the casino, the high rollers go to the right; the commoners go to the left. For a 10 euro fee and proof of ID, common folk can play the slots (and slots only). We decided to do it (when in Monte Carlo . . . ), but in addition to the fee and proof of ID, men cannot be wearing flip flops. So Doug was out, and I didn't have my ID on me, which means we called it day after I got to use the bathrooms at the very famous Monte-Carlo Casino.
So it goes, in Monaco.
For all our travels along the French Riviera, we really liked St Raphael where we were stationed for camp. It's quite busy during the summer, but not as glamorous or well-known--less attractions, but lots of families.
And
nothing was as fun or cherished as the simplicity of a carousel ride and ice cream . . . or blowing the minds of Abigail and Reese with a trip to Aqualand.
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| Fireworks on our last night in St Raphael. |
Nope, it wasn't all work and no play. We played hard.
