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 :-)