After a short stop for at Pisa for the obligatory "look-at-me-I'm-so-cool-because-I'm-holding-up-the-Tower" photo shot, the bus finally pulled into Nice in the early evening. And didn't we lap up the French Riviera ambience! A beautiful twilight otherwise spoilt by the dodgy Gallic dinner-time institution that is "Flunch" (and those of you who've been to one of said establishments will know exactly what I'm talking about). The following day, a few of us dusted off our gladrags and went to investigate Monaco - home to the immaculately groomed and spotlessly clean ... and I just mean the streets. The wealth on display their was in equal parts phenomenal, laughable and disgusting. The streets were all fenced up in preparation for the upcoming Grand Prix, so you really did have the feeling you were visiting some sort of elaborate zoo for the vieux riches. A jaunt to Cannes was undertaken the next day, which just so happened to be the opening day of the 55th Film Festival. The closest brush with celebrity occured we got was hearing photographers clamour for Woody Allen's attention at a press conference. We didn't see him. I suspect they didn't either.
‹ 22.5.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Comments
Feel free to leave a few words about this post. Pithy, on-point comments will earn you 100 frequent surfer miles and a place in the afterlife ...