Cannes
As the days go on by, I slowly forget my time in Europe. However hard I try to keep it stored, they get replaced by newer events that are uploaded to my memory cache. Therefore, I should continue writing my days in Europe before I forget them all! I should just do it daily in Europe but that didn't strike me until I landed in Singapore and started to reminisce my time in Europe causing sleepless nights that greatly affected my sleeping patterns. That was probably my biggest case of jet lag to date.
All that is left in me are little snippets and frames that appear before my mind's eye on whatever that has happened three weeks ago. (Side note, my phone bill has not arrived but I fear the worst. 2 weeks in Europe and a weekend in KL, I think the international call bill will hit the roof) We left for Cannes after a hearty lunch made by Jun. We made our way to Cannes with Rauny in the cockpit, navigating his trusty 20 year old Peugeot 205 down the main highway to Cannes which was close to 45min away. The journey was very much consistent, petrol stations, houses, some trees, some fields, it wasn't like our afternoon drive to Vence where we met his friend's father for the renewed driving insurance tag (but that's for another story). It was repetitive and consistent, walls after walls after walls, it was your typical highway you would drive anywhere.
Seeing all Venetian styled windows and buildings that looked very different from the more rustic Nice, you needn't a signboard to tell you you were Cannes. The buildings were intricately carved and their facades were very different from that of Nice. It was more classy and less beach resort like when compared to Nice. The stores are a little more catered to haute couture and not run-of-the-mill factory production. Big names in high fashion line the main boardwalk of Cannes like Hermes, Louis Vuitton, Chanel and other haute products too haute for my wallet to take. The variety of cars that lined the famous boardwalk was also greater than in Nice. Instead of your traditional French fare, you had Audis, Hummers and other fuel guzzling contraptions over zealous petrol heads would call their second home.
Who wouldn't visit the Palais des Festivals (Home of the Cannes Film Festival) when they visit Cannes? So like any other traveler who was afraid to take the road less traveled, I went to the most famous sight for a glimpse of the venue that portrayed more glitz on a rapper's bling and more glamour than Fergie can ever get. I was however disappointed that the Palais des Festivals wasn't much of a sight. Honestly speaking, I was amazed when I saw the Sydney Opera House from a distance and was awestruck when I was in its compounds but the Palais des Festivals looked worse than The Cathay near SMU let alone The Esplanade. It had a less than promising facade and the only thing that resembled something glitzy was a red carpet that had other like minded tourists trying to squeeze photos on it. And like any other like minded tourist I took a picture in front of the Palais des Festivals that was like a stamp of presence screaming "I was here!"
I was disappointed with the over hype so Rauny suggested, we should stop our walking and take a bath at the beach. Imagine, this is the closest I can get to bathing in the Mediterranean, all these talk of soaking some sun in the French Rivera, swimming in the Mediterranean among mermaids and gawking at the lithe nudies on the beach. This was my time! We chose a spot behind the Palais des Festivals, rolled out our mat and towels and got ready to get our feet wet. And then it struck me, we weren't at a nude beach but why are the ladies liberally walking bare chested. Mind you, these weren't the lithe beauties you dream would fantasize about but old sags I meant hags. It was definitely a sight, a sorry sight and I was traumatized. From first look, I kept my chin down and my gaze to the floor, I didn't want to be shocked by anymore graphic visuals. To prevent any other form of disgust, I ran straight for the sea for a dip. I was expecting warm Mediterranean waters as depicted by Discovery Travel and Living and other travel channels that spoke of false promise of warm comforting temperatures. The temperature of water was however very cold even in the heat of the summer. I had difficulty adapting to the cold water and had to mentally challenge myself to fully submerge my body. It was already 8pm and we managed to squeeze a little bit of whats left of the sun before we headed to Juan Les Pins to give Stefan a visit. Problem was the restaurant he was working closed early that night about 10pm and so we headed back to Pythagore for dinner.
I loved that day, every single day in Europe to be honest. I would definitely want to go back visit the new friends I made. Bring a piece of Singapore to them like how they brought the whole French pie to me. Sigh, three weeks has passed since landing in Singapore, I sure miss it there.
All that is left in me are little snippets and frames that appear before my mind's eye on whatever that has happened three weeks ago. (Side note, my phone bill has not arrived but I fear the worst. 2 weeks in Europe and a weekend in KL, I think the international call bill will hit the roof) We left for Cannes after a hearty lunch made by Jun. We made our way to Cannes with Rauny in the cockpit, navigating his trusty 20 year old Peugeot 205 down the main highway to Cannes which was close to 45min away. The journey was very much consistent, petrol stations, houses, some trees, some fields, it wasn't like our afternoon drive to Vence where we met his friend's father for the renewed driving insurance tag (but that's for another story). It was repetitive and consistent, walls after walls after walls, it was your typical highway you would drive anywhere.
Seeing all Venetian styled windows and buildings that looked very different from the more rustic Nice, you needn't a signboard to tell you you were Cannes. The buildings were intricately carved and their facades were very different from that of Nice. It was more classy and less beach resort like when compared to Nice. The stores are a little more catered to haute couture and not run-of-the-mill factory production. Big names in high fashion line the main boardwalk of Cannes like Hermes, Louis Vuitton, Chanel and other haute products too haute for my wallet to take. The variety of cars that lined the famous boardwalk was also greater than in Nice. Instead of your traditional French fare, you had Audis, Hummers and other fuel guzzling contraptions over zealous petrol heads would call their second home.
Who wouldn't visit the Palais des Festivals (Home of the Cannes Film Festival) when they visit Cannes? So like any other traveler who was afraid to take the road less traveled, I went to the most famous sight for a glimpse of the venue that portrayed more glitz on a rapper's bling and more glamour than Fergie can ever get. I was however disappointed that the Palais des Festivals wasn't much of a sight. Honestly speaking, I was amazed when I saw the Sydney Opera House from a distance and was awestruck when I was in its compounds but the Palais des Festivals looked worse than The Cathay near SMU let alone The Esplanade. It had a less than promising facade and the only thing that resembled something glitzy was a red carpet that had other like minded tourists trying to squeeze photos on it. And like any other like minded tourist I took a picture in front of the Palais des Festivals that was like a stamp of presence screaming "I was here!"
I was disappointed with the over hype so Rauny suggested, we should stop our walking and take a bath at the beach. Imagine, this is the closest I can get to bathing in the Mediterranean, all these talk of soaking some sun in the French Rivera, swimming in the Mediterranean among mermaids and gawking at the lithe nudies on the beach. This was my time! We chose a spot behind the Palais des Festivals, rolled out our mat and towels and got ready to get our feet wet. And then it struck me, we weren't at a nude beach but why are the ladies liberally walking bare chested. Mind you, these weren't the lithe beauties you dream would fantasize about but old sags I meant hags. It was definitely a sight, a sorry sight and I was traumatized. From first look, I kept my chin down and my gaze to the floor, I didn't want to be shocked by anymore graphic visuals. To prevent any other form of disgust, I ran straight for the sea for a dip. I was expecting warm Mediterranean waters as depicted by Discovery Travel and Living and other travel channels that spoke of false promise of warm comforting temperatures. The temperature of water was however very cold even in the heat of the summer. I had difficulty adapting to the cold water and had to mentally challenge myself to fully submerge my body. It was already 8pm and we managed to squeeze a little bit of whats left of the sun before we headed to Juan Les Pins to give Stefan a visit. Problem was the restaurant he was working closed early that night about 10pm and so we headed back to Pythagore for dinner.I loved that day, every single day in Europe to be honest. I would definitely want to go back visit the new friends I made. Bring a piece of Singapore to them like how they brought the whole French pie to me. Sigh, three weeks has passed since landing in Singapore, I sure miss it there.
posted by dihays at 4:45 AM
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