The French Riviera

We biked, bused, hiked, kayaked, sailed, dinghied and climbed a lot of stairs from Monaco to Hyeres.  

We had not anticipated cruising the Mediterranean coast of France when we arrived two and a half years ago but so many people had sung it's praises that we decided to pay it a visit.  We were not disappointed.  It is a sensational coastline with jagged cliffs and mountainous backdrop dotted with medieval and modern human development almost always elegant and tasteful.  It's fame and glory as a wintering hole for the rich and famous is well-deserved.

We jumped from Portofino, Italy across the Gulfo de Genoa to Imperia, Italy in a one-day sail, skipping Genoa and a few other points of interest along the way.  It was September and our cruising guide warns of increasing risk of gale force winds in the autumn funnelling through northern Italian mountains with confused and "swirling" seas.  We (I) had grown shy and hesitant to trust the local forecast after two years in the Mediterranean and preferred to scoot rather than linger.  And because of the violent reputation of the winds in the Golfe du Lion at the west end of the French coast, we limited our cruise to the Riviera and the Cote d'Azur.  Short but very, very sweet.

We hugged the coast on our way to safe anchorage in Villefranche so we could get a close up of Monaco, the "toy-town New York", as we cruised by. The Monte Carlo casino is the green domed building just left of centre. 

The sophisticated Oceanographic Institute, established by Prince Albert I, an avid oceanographer, in the early 20th century.  He used the profits made by the casino to fund his research. The old red-roofed city is behind it, complete with modest palace.

The Kings pretty boat was moored outside the harbour.

We anchored with numerous other boats in Rade de Villefranche, a fantastic almost entirely protected bay with the village of Villefranche at it's head.  Because the successful have made the coast a refuge, the towns have benefitted from their talents.  This small fisherman's chapel, St. Peter's, in Villefranche was redecorated inside and out by Jean Cocteau.  

The citadel houses the municipal buildings, walks through lovely, well-kept gardens with views over the bay.

Not much to see except the formidable gates of this villa, reportedly owned by the Rolling Stones on Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, the green and shaded peninsula on one side of the bay and a fine neighbourhood of elegant villas and gardens.

Milly, hanging in the almost perfect bay surrounded by yachts big and small, looking toward Villefranche, the buildings of which line the cliff up to the Grand Corniche.

Built by Beatrice de Rothschild during the "Belle Epoque", this villa, now museum, was elegant and beautifully maintained in sharp contrast to the sadly neglected and struggling smaller museums we saw in Italy.

The front hall where she greeted her lucky guests.  It has seen many a party.

Beatrice was a collector of tapestries, porcelain, paintings and furniture, all kept in pristine condition.

Her day room.  Not a place where you can put your feet up, let your hair down or slouch - unless you've been living like this all your life, I guess.

Every 20 minutes fountains spurted and fell in time to classical music or, strangely, the Space Odyssey!

Meandering wooded paths connected nine different gardens with columns, waterfalls, ponds, flowerbeds and rare species of trees and plants.  

Nearing the peak of the peninsula by bike, looking back on the bay with Villefranche to the left and Cap Ferrat across.  We were headed to Nice.

Nice was only a short bike ride up and over the peninsula.  A World Championship Iron Man event happened to be going on when we arrived at the beach.  The famous Promenade des Anglais was cut off with tortured runners and bikers extraordinaire.

Yum!  French cheese...

assorted picturesque pates,

and flowers gave the open air market on Cours Saleya huge appeal.  Food always looks like art in France.

Nice, "the queen of the Riviera".

Then we took the bus the short ride east to Monaco.  The entrance foyer of Monte Carlo casino was open to the public in the a.m.  We had to take a look.  The rest was inaccessible to plebs unless you paid through the nose and dressed up.  We didn't do either. 

Rather nice yachts in Monaco. Keeping up with the Jones is, I'm sure, a full-time occupation.

The humble and beige "pink palace" and home of the royalty.

The downtown Monaco side of the old city....

An autonomous, electric shuttle bus, free for those in need was not working on Sunday when we were there but even at rest it was inspiringly innovative and high tech.

The seemingly more exclusive, if that's possible, newer marina on the other side of the old city

And then on to Cannes, which we weren't too impressed with not being high end shoppers.  The port was monopolized by a boat show.  Milly was the smallest yacht by a long shot in the anchorage where many of the yachts were for sale, hosting parties of potential buyers.  We weren't invited.  

The promenade de la Crosisette lined with blue chairs and backed by hotels, both elegant and not, seemed iconic.  The biggest problem for us in Cannes was finding a spot among the glitter of the boat show and fussiness of the beach patrons to put TomTom.  We were waved away from all possibilites until we finally hauled it up on a beach, discretely off to the side of a hotel and in the rubble of landfill, we thought.  When we returned after a couple of hours, TomTom had been moved, and filled with clothing and picnic detritus.  Two couples on the beach chastised us for leaving him there.  We couldn't understand but their tone and dismissive gestures were enough to make the message clear.  We rescued TomTom and meekly drove back to Milly.

The red volcanic Esterel massif west of Cannes was beautiful against the blue sky and sea.

Our "dinghy dock" at St. Tropez.  We were not welcome at the real docks, a problem we have encountered at many places in the Med adding a challenging dimension to anchoring out.  TomTom was anchored to keep him off the rocks and behaved very well while we explored the high end town of St. Tropez.  A small beer cost the hefty price of 18 euros ($27CDN).  We found one just off the quay for the great deal of 15 euros.

The view from Milly of the villas hidden in the soft umbrellas of the aleppo pines.

And there's the captain enjoying a beer and a book during that honey coloured hour before sunset.  

We loved the expensive, exclusive French coast!  It is another area where we thought we could settle once land beckons.  We always consider this as we cruise from port to port.  Only Mallorca and Villefranche have appealed so far.  We'd have to go back to work to manage either so maybe in our next lives.  For now we're happy to have cruised it in our current mobile home.

September 3-13, 2019.