Luxury yachts and a crowded beach. All the things we’re supposed to hate in a resort town.
We Australians don’t visit France’s Côte d’Azur for its beaches. We don’t like paying to sit on a deckchair or renting a towel. We hate the idea of private beaches for hotel guests only.
On the other hand, we don’t know any Australian resort towns with covered markets, massed petunia baskets hanging above cobbled alleyways and a Picasso Museum. Continue reading
Sun and cafes – Villefranche-sur-Mer.
You have to love Europe. The weather in Amsterdam is cold, grey, wet and miserable. Mevrouw T has a heavy cold. So all we have to do is wake at 4.15am, struggle out to Schiphol Airport, catch a plane to Nice and an hour and forty minutes later here we are, in the sunny south of France.
It’s a toasty twenty degrees, there are people sitting on the terraces, a few brave souls are stripping off to sunbathe and there are even two people swimming. In the sea. No, not us, but it could have been us.
We’ve organised a week’s apartment swap with Muriel and Jean Louis in Villefranche-sur-Mer, on the French Riviera, the Cote d’Azur. From the sound of it alone, you’d assume only the mega-rich could afford it. This way, we can too. Continue reading