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Wednesday, 12 October 2011

PART I - Girls in a car

It’s been such a long time since I’ve done something like this …  Wait!   Wait a minute! I don’t think I’ve ever done something like this. 

My sister and I in a car for 4 days and 5 nights?  Never!  On our own? Jamais! No kids, no dogs, husbands, boyfriends or anything – not even a plan hatched, other than getting the car back to London by Sunday afternoon. 
That’s how it starts, a plane ride to Nice Airport, in the south of France, and then the lure of European highways, the beauty of the countryside all buttered by the ease of a comfortable, lifelong friendship.

Where to go?  Anywhere!
What to do?  Anything!
When to do it?  Anytime!

Ahhh – what a treat.

Bienvenue a la belle France …

At Nice Airport we track down the Chrysler Grand Voyager, which has been left there by Jackie’s son, Nic.  Lot number 8, tucked in backwards as requested, but no gas – ah, well you can’t have it all, can you?

It’s late, (for us, 9pm French time,) so it means straight to dinner before the long drive up to the tiny little village of Plan de la Tour.
“Where to?” Jackie asks.
“I have no idea.”
“Well, I know this lovely place on the seafront in Cannes which we go to sometimes.  It’s perfect, because it’s open late and the food is rather good.”
“Cannes?  Like the French town where they have all the movie awards, Cannes?” I’m hopeless at these things of the rich and famous.
“OMG.  Sign me up skippy!  Let’s go.”
The rich and famous are all there in their glamour and anorexity.  With polished expertise, Jackie picks a perfect people-gazing table and we’re seated for the waterfront show. 
I mean, you hardly need to talk here, there’s so much going on all around.  The harbor is glittering with pretty boats and mini ships all ablaze with fairy lights in competition with the sidewalk’s low wall/seat which is underlit by everchanging colored swashes.
The food is divine, the conversation brilliant and everything going on around us completely out of my league.  I give a little sigh of relief when we round the corner and plunge into the darkness of the highway that will take us out into the beautiful (and quiet) French countryside. 
Way too much glitz for me down in French tinseltown.

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Unless otherwise noted, all articles are written by Cath Rathbone. (Copyright Catherine (Cath) Rathbone and Noony Brown)