Afternoon all.

We’re in our room in Nice, it’s game day, so just putting our feet up before the face paint comes out once more. Please dear god let this one be more bearable than the Fiji game! Also, honourable mention to the chap we met this morning, that has constructed a giant leek from drain pipes and a sand bag. We commend you!

So, it’s been a few days since I last wrote anything, we’ve been with flat out busy or passed out asleep! This is the next instalment of our road trip.

We decided to stop off at Cannes, somewhere Craig had been before but I hadn’t. You figure that these places are famous for a reason right. Lord what a disappointment. We sat in traffic behind our first Ferrari of the trip. Number plate was NICOE. I googled how to spell Nico Rosberg. It was not him….

Walking past the Ferrari was what I assumed was a miniature Tech Millionaire, as all of his 5ft height was dwarfed by the statuesque 19 year old blonde he was with. I thought, the people watching here will be A+.

Firstly, the traffic is awful. The parking was in a multi storey that was also fairly horrific, but was scented with “Mojito”. I know this because there was a poster proclaiming the name of the scent. I’ve had worse smelling spa days. I guess they scent the carpark to try to counteract the fact that outside smells like a combination of fish, drains and piss. I’m sorry folks, but Cannes absolutely honks!

We walked for a while, and kept being thwarted by high rise buildings and construction to get to the sea. When we finally managed it, it’s a bit overwhelming, There was a cruise ship in the middle distance, and the sea was absolutely crammed with boats and people and it was all a bit much. The beach area is pretty small really, and what isn’t taken up with parasols and loungers for hire was rammed with people. We walked down the promenade, and couldn’t really get very far because it was Cannes Yacht week, so much was cordoned off unless you had ticketed admission, and covered with small tradeshow tents so you couldn’t see any of the boats really. Just around the corner there’s the famous red carpet used by the stars for the Cannes film festival. They’ve helpfully popped a cardboard cutout of a lot of A listers at the top, but is it really worth the effort to come to this place to take a picture of a cardboard Jennifer Lawrence? I reckon not.

Absolutely no desire to return whatsoever.

So after a mediocre bagel, we went back to the minty scented car park and headed on to Nice.

We were at a hotel close to the airport and again had to find the underground parking, which was challenging, but actually the space in there was better than the hell carpark in Beziers by quite some considerable distance. Parking cost per night – 20 euros I might add.

We headed out on the brilliant tram system and went to the old port for dinner. We went into an Irish pub for a quick drink, but as a storm blew in and it was throwing it down, we decided to stay. I had a couple of pints of Kilkenny and a steak and Guinness pie. Both of which were tremendous.

On the way out the next day, (the hotel, not the Irish Pub), we noticed the Wales team bus was parked at the hotel next door. Yep, we’ve found the team hotel, and we had literally just missed them. We tried to get a coffee but we were told we couldn’t until after 12 as it was reserved for residents until then. Dammit! We would continue our stalking at a later time!

We caught the tram and decided to walk from the Negresco along the Promenade Des Anglais, towards the flower market where we wanted to have lunch.

I have visited Nice before but about 15 years ago, and we stayed in an apartment at the back of the Negresco building then, so it brought back some fond memories. Nice has absolutely been improved by the addition of the tram though, it really is a dream to get around.

I love the history of the Negresco. Richard Burton, Brigitte Bardot, The Beatles, Salvador Dalí, it must have been quite the place back in the 50’s and 60’s. I love the faded mint green and flamingo pinks of the building. It shouldn’t work together but it just does.

We wandered further and saw Welsh legend Scott Quinell doing some filming with some Wales fans which was fun to watch for a minute.

I had only one main request, a trip to the Fragonard shop. Yes I could order the perfume on line (I recommend you subscribe to their catalogue though, as they send you free stuff), but I wanted to have a little look as I can’t decide what my favourite is. My sister sent me some flowers last year, and they came with a little box of Fragonard miniatures, and I honestly haven’t found one I don’t like. After much pondering, I bought the box of 10 more miniatures, because they are just great to pop in your bag, and I settled on my favourite for a larger bottle. Reine Des Coeurs (Queen of Hearts). If you’re shopping for men folk, might I recommend Vetiver. It’s just lovely. I could’ve cleared out the shop though, some of the fabrics they use for their shawls and dresses are absolutely stunning. Love love love.

We had a drink in an Australian Bar while we decided where to eat, and spent an amusing 15 minutes watching a pigeon snaffling a man’s chocolate brownie while he remained engrossed in his book.

Lunch was Italian, Craig had a huge pizza with Burrata, and I had a seafood pasta with calamari, and giant langoustines. Both way too massive, but great! Plus my favourite drink of the trip, a “Lady Spritz”, which was like an aperol spritz but with rose liqueur instead.

We then spent a pleasant hour wandering the maze of little cobbled lanes that run off the flower market, before heading back to the hotel for a little rest.

We headed out in the evening to find the fan village to watch the France game that evening. It was nicely laid out with plenty of beer tents and food options. A large screen to watch the game, and a smattering of picnic benches and deckchairs. We got there quite early and some lovely Wales fans said we could have their deckchairs, so we had a cracking view of the screen right up to kick off. Obviously, at kick off, arseholes arrived at the 11th hour and just stood directly in front of us. They weren’t even watching the game! We soldiered on for 20 minutes or so and just decided to get the tram back to the hotel and actually thoroughly enjoyed watching the game in our hotel room with the air conditioning. All was not lost!

I am once again reminded about my general hatred for large groups of people. I appreciate that selfish, obnoxious, impatient people that can’t queue (or listen to music wearing bastard headphones), are only a minority of the general population. The larger the group of people, by proportion, prickishness increases accordingly. This is why we live in a department of France where people are outnumbered by cows. This, my friends, is not an accident!

Next instalment coming soon.

TTFN x