now and then on the côte d'azur
on creating meaningful travel experiences and connecting with local culture
Earlier this month, I spent a week in the south of France with my husband for my 33rd birthday. The French Riveria, also known as the Côte d’Azur, is a place very close to my heart. Almost exactly ten years ago, in April of 2014, I spent a week and a half in Nice, Cannes, and Marseilles at the end of my year teaching English in France.
There was something about how special the Côte d’Azur is to me, the formative time in my life when I first visited - no longer a college student, not yet an adult - and the significant 10 years that had passed, that made my trip back particularly meaningful. My husband knew how much this place meant to me. I’ve often told him how the French Riviera is one of those postcard-perfect corners of the world, perhaps my favorite place I’ve ever traveled.
There were a few towns along the French Riviera that I was particularly attached to from my first trip there. One of them is Èze, a hilltop gem of a medieval town that looks over the glistening Mediterranean. The medieval village boasts a beautiful cactus and statue garden at the apex of the historic town. I can’t recall where I first heard about Èze, and I didn’t even know about the garden when I stumbled into the town the first time. Maybe happening upon it this way made the pristine spot all the more magical.
There was also a jewelry store, a charming spot tucked into the maze of cobbled streets called Good Karma. I remembered the name, because, for some unknown reason, I had hung onto the store’s business card. And, what did we know, Good Karma was still in existence! Its Google reviews were full of glowing recommendations from travelers, and I was excited to return. I had purchased a pretty larimar necklace there in 2014, which I, unfortunately, discovered to have been stolen or lost when I left Nice a few days later.
I had this little fantasy in my head that I would return to Good Karma and show the owner the business card I had hung onto and I’d buy a similar necklace to the larimar one I had lost. Maybe we’d even take a picture and I’d post this cute anecdote on Google Reviews, or tell a story about it here.
After wandering through the maze-like streets of Èze, with the help of my husband’s superior navigation skills, we finally found the store, tucked away in a hidden back corner. And it was closed. Judging by the vacant display cases outside the shop, it probably hadn’t opened yet for the spring tourist season.
My husband Ted could sense my slight disappointment, the loss of my idea of what the day would look like. But we quickly recovered by walking around the hilltop Jardin Exotique, petting several dogs as we admired the views, plants, and statues. Then, we found a trail that led us from the medieval city down to the seaside, snaking through the wooded mountainside past secret waterfalls. Soon my hope of revisiting the store faded away. There would be more shops and galleries and restaurants where I could meet French people and have the type of experience I’d wanted to relive at Good Karma.
I thought about what precisely I’d wanted from a visit to the gem shop. Maybe it was just the experience of connecting with a local, an artist or craftsperson or chef, who held a deep appreciation for their work and derived satisfaction in sharing it with others. The type of meaningful exchange that’s based around a work of art, in whatever form; feeling like you’ve discovered something rare and beautiful and having the joy of taking that object or memory back home with you.
Luckily, there were plenty of other artisans I met on this trip. A painter who’d lived in Èze for thirty years who I bought a print from; a chef in Antibes who’d immigrated from London and wanted our opinion on his octopus aioli; a jewelry maker and vintage and art curator in Cannes from whom I purchased some necklaces and a vintage dish.
It was also fun to explore a few towns that were new to me. We spent two partial days in Antibes, one of which we walked around the historic walled city, and then we came back on a rainy day to spend the afternoon at the Picasso Museum, housed in the Chateau Grimaldi where Picasso worked in 1946.
Then, we visited Cagnes-sur-Mer, where the historic Renoir house and studio are located. Renoir lived in this coastal town for the last twelve years of his life, from 1907 - 1919. After walking around the Renoir estate, we ventured up to the historic castle at the top of the hill. We were surprised to find that there were virtually no other tourists around. We happened upon a square right outside the walls of the castle that was surrounded by bars and restaurants and had a courtyard in the middle where a bunch of local kids and dogs were running around.
We sat at the bar where all the locals were relaxing, ordered drinks, and watched the antics of the cutest dogs and children playing in the middle of the square. Distant hilltops framed the snow-capped Alps in the background. This is something we’ve enjoyed about traveling in recent years - sitting back and quietly observing the locals’ way of life. Discovering a cute corner of town that’s a bit off the beaten path that hasn’t yet been claimed by tourists. Of course, there we are, as tourists, maybe taking a little bit of that authenticity away. But I give ourselves some credit for assimilating as best we could, speaking only French to the waiter, not demanding anything of the experience other than what is offered to locals there.
It feels a bit more like an escape when you do this - blend into the woodwork of a place and not demand it meet you where you are (with English, U.S. cultural norms, etc.). Of course, this isn’t always possible, but it’s nice to try, even through small gestures, like learning a few phrases of a new language.
A few places we loved
In case you are heading to the French Riveria sometime soon, I wanted to share some of the amazing spots where we ate.
Nice
Le Panier - Offers a 5 or 7-course menu that is a surprise and a little different each night (their menu gives away hints through a word collage of flavors and ingredients to expect). They were so accommodating in making all of my plates gluten and lactose-free, and they tolerated my French, which was especially rusty on our first night.
Villefranche-sur-Mer
La Belle Etoile - Intimate fine French restaurant with a menu that rotates daily. I had the most delicious lemon tart for dessert. Comfortable and chic.
Cannes
La cuisine de Mathilde - Delicious and unique small plates for sharing. Loved their take on socca, a chickpea flour pancake that is a regional street food specialty.
L'éponyme - French Mediterranean food in a cozy, artsy space. Very nice owner/chef who spoke only French. Loved the authentic feel.
Black Sails - We saw this ‘Pirate Tavern’ on Google Maps, but after noting their perfect five-star rating and mentions of ‘tasteful pirate decor,’ we went here to try their award-winning burger. It did not disappoint.
Antibes
Le P'tit Cageot - Seasonal French fare in a relaxed space. Had the most delicious octopus aioli here.
These were our absolute favorites, but let me know if you want more recommendations. I’d be happy to share Ted and my Google Maps list with 70ish spots we either visited or thought looked cool.
