I'm on the top floor of a 5-story walk-up...a little studio in Le Suquet, Cannes' old town (vielle ville). From the open french windows, a get a constant sea breeze and look over red-tiled rooftops to the port, the Film Festival Palace, the Croisette of Chanels and Guccis, and the curve of beach setting Cannes off from the deep blue Mediterranean.
It is my home now for seven weeks - a walk, bus, boat, or train to nearly everything I want to visit still. I add Paris to my wish list this morning...and Spain.
I break for an almond croissant, a pillowy confection from the patiserie on the corner, my first in France (stuck so on pain chocolate). "Oui, oui, bon bon," as my friend, Yvonne used to say. The last time I did any real time in France was with Yvonne, following a FIABCIconference in Montreux (Switzerland). We rented a car in Geneva, heading south through northern and coastal Italy, along the riviera, up through the Provence and through the chateau and wine regions into Paris. Ahhhhh, Paris. I think now about going again. Pourquoi pas?
I leave tomorrow for a week with the monks on isle St. Honorat, a 20-minute ferry from Cannes, returning the end of the month to another sweet little studio in Le Suquet, my home base for further exploration and discovery. Arles, Avignon, Aix en Provence, other places nearby. I don't know about communications on the little island or when I'll be back in touch, so bon journee mes amis.