NICE is not so nice

The Cote d' Azur beckoned as His Lordship had reason to visit. 'If you can be ready in 45 minutes' he loftily announced you can accompany me. Two hours later (well slightly more) after I had written copious do's and definitely dont's to a thrilled looking 2b I was ready to hand over the reigns of Le Chateau.

Making sure our guests were settled in nicely (it is self catering) but we do care, His Lordship flung his spare shirt into the back of The Grand Duchess. It was 30 degrees and I was feeling rather flustered just walking out of the front door so we plumped for alternative transport which as it turned out was rather a mistake.

Leaving behind glorious blue skies and the blissfully empty roads of the Languedoc we approached the Cote d' Azur. The cars were gridlocked in all directions, on the skyline huge blocks of flats dominated interspersed with the sound of numatic drills. People thronged along the front of Cannes, all shapes, all sizes, all nationalities. Cartier, Channel, Hermes, Yves St Laurent, you name it they were all there. Seriously suntanned ladies draped on the arms of their Fathers? tottered along the sidewalk on their Manolo Blahniks.

Maybe I'm older and jaded but it did nothing for me. Despite the heat it left me cold. Give me my beautiful untouched countryside of the Languedoc any day. I think I would have adored the Cote d' Azur before the war when it was frequented by the likes of Noel Coward, the villa's were few and far between and much more desirable instead of hiding behind massive electronic gates and security camera's.

Meanwhile His Lordship caught me fairly and squarely on film picking up my very first parking ticket outside the hotel in Cannes, how unlucky is THAT !

Oh it's glorious to be back at Le Chateau.