I
walk to la Gare where a gent tries to buy my ticket in the machine (all
instructions in French), to no avail. Won't take paper euro. Won't take credit
card. I have no coins, so it's a free train. I arrive 50 minutes later in
Cannes, steering my way thru the presse mess. Then walk along the boulevard
(Croisette) for a coffee, chocolate croissant (we've got nothing on the French when
it comes to either of these!) I shoot a selfie in front of the red carpet for
the 67th Cannes Film Festival, where Nicole Kidman's Grace of Monaco premiere's
to really negative press - the family hates it. The French hate it. The British
press ignores the film altogether and writes instead about Nicole's bad botox
job.
Eager
to get on with interviews for my column, I pick a totally French woman...and
meet Sally...from Palm Beach, FL. We walk to the back street, where she
searches for consignment shops (she has one in PS). Before long, I head back to
the crowded Croisette and the tourisme office for maps, info, etc., then
continue interviewing people. I visit two markets, ending at Marche Forville,
looking for Taverne Lucullus, now a fish n chips shop. I collapse at La
Farigoulette for a rosé & salade niçoise. Mais oui :-)
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