star quality
At the western end of the Croisette, flanked by label-clad café-dwellers on one side and boules-playing Frenchmen on the other, is a statue. You’d be forgiven for not noticing him at all unless you stopped in the shade of the palm trees to dip your fingers in the cool pool at his stocking-clad feet. But if it wasn’t for this man, you probably wouldn’t be standing here.
For Lord Brougham, a former British lord chancellor, is recognised as the person who put Cannes on the tourist map. Forced to lodge in the then fishing village en route to Genoa in 1834 due to an outbreak of cholera in the Nice area, he was delighted by what he saw and remained until his death in 1868. His magnificent villa, Louise-Éléonore, welcomed the great and the good of the age and well-heeled tourists followed in their wake.
My own arrival into town was slightly more relaxed. I caught Eurostar to Paris and then the overnight sleeper train from Paris Austerlitz, arriving in Cannes at 7.30am. After dropping my luggage off at Hotel 3.14, a four-star boutique hotel whose Art Deco façade belies a trendy kitsch interior, I woke myself up with a coffee and chocolate croissant in a café on Rue Meynadier, where door-to-door food shops entice shoppers with their too-pretty-to-eat window displays.
The super-yachts were already dotting the sparkly bay, the private beaches sported brightly-coloured umbrellas and some of society’s more exotic members were to be found on the palm-fringed Croisette promenade: a tanned, miniskirt-wearing sixtysomething on rollerblades and a size-zero man in tight, shiny trousers carrying a clutchbag-size Chihuahua; even the passing guide dog was a clipped Standard Poodle wearing a diamante collar.
But Cannes has a lot more going for it than glitz. Early morning is a good time to explore Forville market, with its vibrant displays of just-picked vegetables, stacks of smelly goats’ cheese and fresh-off-the-boat fish. Locals and tourists often find themselves rubbing shoulders with Michelin-starred chefs in this terracotta temple to the best regional tucker.
From here it was a short walk up narrow, cobbled rue St-Antoine past the semi-precious jewellery shops and Cannes’ oldest restaurant – Auberge Provençale – to the old town, known as Le Suquet. An estate agent displayed photos of apartments that cost less than in some parts of Swansea.
It was in the castle on top of the hill that the monks from the offshore Lérins Islands settled in the eleventh century to protect themselves from attack. Today, it houses the Musée de la Castre, which has an array of scary masks from Africa and Australasia as well as a fascinating collection of unusual musical instruments from around the world.
Just opposite the museum entrance is a marble bench in memory of ‘Le Prince Leopold, Duc d’Albany’. Leopold, the haemophiliac youngest son of Queen Victoria, died in Cannes at the age of 31 in 1884. The bench is one of several monuments across town erected by his mother, a regular visitor to the Riviera.
The all-encompassing view from the hill takes in the sweep of the two-mile-long Croisette; the concrete monstrosity that is the Palais des Festivals, where the Film Festival is held; the iconic domes of the Carlton Hotel and the Lérins Islands: Ste-Marguerite and St-Honorat. On Ste-Marguerite, the larger of the two islands, you’ll find the Fort Royal, whose prison was once home to the real ‘man in the iron mask’. The fort now showcases maritime finds from the area in the Musée de la Mer.
I headed downhill to Port-Saint Pierre where I caught the ferry over to St-Honorat whose main attraction is a fortified, sea-surrounded monastery: one of Europe’s few remaining examples of eleventh-century military/religious architecture.
The mile-long island is home to about 30 Cistercian monks – there were about 900 in the community’s heyday – who are famous for producing their own wine. This is best sampled in the island’s restaurant, La Tonnelle, where I savoured pan-fried sea bream with a glass of (disappointingly acidic) white at the water’s edge. I reconsidered my plans to go there for a retreat.
Back on dry land, I whizzed down Rue d’Antibes, Cannes’ main shopping street where ‘high-street’ shops sits comfortably next to ‘designer’, before spending the evening at Le Cink, the organic restaurant and bar at Hotel 3.14. After cocktails on purple velvet sofas in the palm-filled garden, the highlight of the meal was undoubtedly dessert – an exotic fruit cheesecake hidden by a cloud of candyfloss.
About nine miles inland from the urban sprawl of Cannes is Grasse. If you’re not driving, there are frequent train and bus connections to the perched village. You can make one journey to just about anywhere on the Riviera by bus for one euro.
Inspired by Patrick Süskind’s novel, I booked myself in for a fragrance-making workshop at perfume house Fragonard where I learned the difference between eau de parfum and eau de cologne, that perfume organs don’t play music (see photo) and that, after sniffing five different essences, I wasn’t going to become the next big ‘nose’.
Perfumery in Grasse was born out of the glove industry; tannery developed in the area due to the abundance of natural springs. To disguise the strong odour of leather, gloves were perfumed with oil from the high-quality flowers that grew in the surrounding meadows. Visitors to the town will be able to learn all about the industry’s history when the revamped International Museum of Perfume opens later this year.
Although filled with restaurants these days, the arcaded Place aux Aires was once a pungent-smelling square where tanners came to clean the animal skins. Hôtel Isnard at no. 33, the former home of a merchant tanner, is testament to the town’s prosperity. This is one of many sights on the tourist office’s free map-cum-tour through the high-sided, shabby-chic streets dotted with shops selling vivid Provençal fabrics. The view over the Grasse countryside sloping down to the sea from Place 24 Août, behind the twelfth-century cathedral, is unmissable.
A short drive from the town centre is the Domaine de Manon, a rose and jasmine farm whose owners supply flowers to the major perfume houses. Grasse is famous for Centifolia otherwise known as the Rose de Mai as it only flowers in May. According to proprietor Carole Biancalana, it takes about three tonnes of rose petals to make one litre of oil, which retails for €30,000.
Tourists can visit the farm to see the rose in its natural habitat but if you time it right, you can see also some stunning displays at the Expo Rose, which takes place in the town each May. White marquees hide paint-palette bouquets bursting with up to 100 blooms.
In the stalls outside, you’ll find that there’s plenty to do with flowers other than look at them or smell them. Confiserie Florian, a family-owned sweet company that prides itself on using old-fashioned manufacturing techniques, runs workshops on cooking with flowers. On their stand, visitors could taste jasmine jam, crystallised violet petals and even rose-flavoured tapenade (olive paste).
About half way between Grasse and Cannes, Mougins is a must-visit for foodies. In 1992, the tiny perched village was firmly put on the gastro map when its restaurants totalled seven Michelin stars.
These days, it only has three – two at the Moulin de Mougins, a favourite with celebrities, and one at Le Mas Candille – a former eighteenth-century farmhouse that is now a five-star hotel. As well as a renowned restaurant, the latter also has a luxury spa, where I treated myself to a massage. Draped in fluffy white towels, I drifted off listening to mellow jazz in a candle-lit room as the therapist kneaded my shoulder knots after a hard couple of days of sightseeing.
If Hollywood wanted to create the perfect Provençal village then this would be it. A main square filled with excellent restaurants; tagliatelle-thin streets that coil around the centre like a snail shell; townhouses with carefully-distressed, geranium-draped façades; art galleries whose works don’t have price tags and estate agents offering properties for up to €20 million.
Christian Dior’s adopted home is still the choice of many creative luminaries: on the road up, large gates open to reveal gardeners pruning verdant topiaries and Filipino housekeepers welcoming English-speaking guests.
The village’s Photography Museum has a permanent exhibition of insightful photos of former resident Picasso taken by the leading photographers of the day. Next door is the Porte Sarrazine, the only remaining ancient gate to the village. Here you’ll find a copy of a painting by a local artist, which is part of a tourist trail known as the ‘Painters of the Côte d’Azur’.
The sun warmed my back as I tucked into a steak with gratin dauphinois accompanied by a glass of Côtes de Provence rosé at the Feu Follet. The scent of jasmine filled the air. Waiters dashed in and out of the tables amidst animated chatter. Actor Jean Reno sat with friends nearby.
Raising a glass of thanks to Lord Brougham, I considered coming back in September for the International Festival of Gastronomy. But I’m really not sure if my waistline, or my wallet, could stand it…..
FACT FILE
GETTING THERE
A standard return from London to Cannes by Eurostar and overnight train starts at £114 from www.raileurope.co.uk or call 0844 848 4070
TOURIST INFORMATION
www.cannes.fr
www.grasse.fr
www.mougins-coteazur.org
WHERE TO STAY AND EAT
Hotel 3.14 and Le Cink
Cannes
Tel: 00 33 4 92 99 72 00
www.3-14hotel.com
La Tonnelle
St Honorat Island
Cannes
Tel: 00 33 4 92 99 54 00
Le Mas Candille
Mougins
Tel: 00 33 4 92 28 43 43
www.lemascandille.com
Le Feu Follet
Mougins
Tel: 00 33 4 93 90 15 78
www.feu-follet.fr
PERFUME-MAKING WORKSHOP
Fragonard
Grasse
Tel: 00 33 4 93 77 94 30
www.fragonard.com
COOKING WITH FLOWERS
Confiserie Florian
Pont du Loup
Tel: 00 33 4 93 59 32 91
www.confiserieflorian.com
FLOWER FARM
Domaine de Manon
Plascassier Village
Tel: 00 33 4 93 60 12 76
www.domaine-manon.com
