First Day in Cannes

Trying to catch up....

Upper left: Bets's house from inside the courtyard

Middle: Girls just tryin' to have fun

Below: Bets's house from across the street

We left Vezelay about 8 Thursday morning and got to Cannes about 5. We had the advantage of Rhonda, our Garmin GPS that we brought from home, and a yeoman’s job she did. Once in Cannes, in scary traffic, she navigated directly to Betsy’s door, despite dire warnings that all the streets had changed direction and what used to be two-way is now one-way. How does it know? I’ll wax eloquent on the wonders of technology at a later date.

Oh well, maybe just a little bit right now. A new addition to Bets’s house is one of those chairlift gizmos that attaches to the stair banister and is designed to transport those who are mobility challenged up the six flights of stairs to the floor that she lives on. For those who don’t know, Betsy owns an enormous old house in the center of Cannes which looms over the Voie Rapide (expressway) like a Grande Old Dame, enclosed by a stone wall, and only accessible through a locked gate. After ringing the bell, the gate opens and you drive through and park in the courtyard. The house itself is composed of five floors each housing one or two apartments, one of which is rented, one of which is her office, another of which is a furnished apartment for guests or short-term renters, and one of which is her home. There is one more floor above that, which mostly stands empty but which has housed many a lucky traveler over the years, like for example my own sons who stayed there on various sojourns through Europe. So picture LOTS of steps. And no elevator.

Now normally, or rather in the old days, one would schlep one’s luggage up to her place, probably making several trips in the process, and then collapse in a bloody heap in her living room. But no more! This wonderful device is not for transporting humans, but for transporting luggage! (And other stuff such as cases of wine, new microwaves, or whatever). Believe me, one veritably sprints up the stairs in the delightful knowledge that one does not have to carry one’s stuff!

So after spoiling our luggage rotten with this mass transit system, we arrived in above mentioned living room fresh as daisies and ready to go. Last night’s dinner was nothing short of fabulous. La Cave is a tiny place about a block from Betsy’s house, very trendy and popular, not fancy but how-you-say chic. Of course the maitre d’ and the owner and the waiters all know her and greeted us warmly. On Bets’s recommendation I ordered steamed cod with garlic aioli and steamed vegetables, which frankly didn’t sound that good but was the best dinner I can remember in a long time.