From Grenoble to Cannes
An early morning bus ride from the Grenoble station, for the very last time.
It's raining (of course).
Côte d'or chocolate really improves the situation.
A thunderstorm is forecast for Cannes.
The train between Marseilles and Cannes is packed with sweaty humans, and pickpockets, if we're gauging from the emergency announcement from the conductor.
The arrival in Cannes is less warm than expected, and we peer through the scratched train windows, examining the clouds for any hint of blue.
Some blue appears, and the mediterranean says, "good to see you again, too," as we sit in rapture before it.
Our apartment, just around the corner from the largest produce market, is placed perkily atop a restaurant called Maître Renard, and is graced nightly with the sounds of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald wafting through the open shutters.
Cannes gives us everything we hoped for in Grenoble. Quaint streets, some sunshine, and some nice people. And lots of pictures of celebrities.
I's cannes go back to Cannes, plz?
No comments:
Post a Comment