Cote D'Azur

From the lush green vineyards of Provence we have made our way to the slightly more tropical Cote D'Azur with it's palm trees, glamorous beaches and red, sandy cliffs.  After a horrific drive on the worst day of the year for traffic, we finally make it to our villa in Valbonne.  The sound of les cygales are less intense than in our remote farmhouse stationed high above the village of Faucon.  In a weird way I kind of miss that remoteness.  Just hearing the odd car or motorbike is distracting after the solitude of Merindol, but it is still fairly peaceful and quiet.  

I walked to the village of Valbonne this morning which was much prettier than I expected.  Along the walk I peered into the gardens of many villas, all seemingly abandoned apart from the glistening, obligatory pool.  Strangely, in the middle of a high grassed field there stood a white plastic table and four white plastic chairs, as if the horses themselves were having a garden party with various inhabitants of the meadow.  There happened to be an antiques market in the square and down the charming little streets.  I so wanted to buy something but feel far too naive about buying antiques.  There was a small, heavy iron which looked old, and a bit of a dangerous weapon, but had no price and i was too scared to ask.  

We go back in the evening 'en famille' and the square has a decidedly different feel.  Gone are the quaint antiques among the tables and chairs in the outdoor brasseries, and it is heaving with overly tanned, even some crisp, mostly English people looking for somewhere to eat.  One side of the square is obviously more busy than the other, one restaurant catering more to children than the rest.  We are lured in as well and end up waiting for a table next to the presenter Alice Beer and her two cute twin girls.  She comments on Ruby's Ariel Barbie who's gold bikini top has fallen off leaving her topless and we laugh.  I pretend not to recognise her whilst Tom makes googly eyes at me.  We eventually sit down to a great meal, brochettes de la mer and lasagne for the kids, and the square soon turns into a circus, complete with clowns doing shows and selling bright helium balloons.  Nowhere, it seems, is immune to the tourist trap.  I cannot deny we enjoyed people watching here, and almost recognised a few more faces but weren't confident enough to speak to them, they just all looked 'familiar'.  As we were leaving the French were all rolling in, just beginning their evening.  At least it wasn't completely English...