Antibes was our next destination. We were particularly keen to see the Old Town, which our daughter Molly recommended after visiting this summer.

We found a campsite, La Vielle Ferme. It was close to a railway station in Biot with direct trains to Antibes. The campsite didn’t look very promising from the road but inside we found it had large, enclosed pitches and great facilities including a full size covered swimming pool, table tennis (of course!), and a popular bar/pizza joint. No toilet seats, alas, but toilet paper in every cubicle!

We found ourselves camping next to an Italian couple with a cute little puppy called Benny.  He popped through the hedge occasionally to say ‘Ciao’. The owners continually chorused ‘Benny, veni qui’  which became a bit wearing after a few days, but aside from that it was probably our favourite site so far.

The site had a number of long stay residents, lounging outside unfeasibly large tents which were elaborately decorated with plants, framed pictures, satellite dishes, etc, etc. The site closes in Mid November and opens again just after Christmas, during which time I assume these happy campers return to whatever country they come from and show off their nut brown skin before rushing back to lounge outside their unfeasibly large tents.

 

We took the train to Antibes, which was a cinch – trains were every half hour and only took five minutes –  and walked down to the Port, where there was a big wheel.  There were a number of Gin Palaces moored out to sea, so large they looked out of scale. We walked past a lovely little beach and then through an arched gate in a thick stone wall to enter the Old Town. The old town itself was very atmospheric, a walled city within a city with narrow, winding streets.  Within the old town is a medieval castle which has been turned into the Picasso Museum. Unfortunately we didn’t manage to visit it this time.  Instead we joined all the other tourists wandering about at a leisurely pace, enjoying the views across the bay to Cap D’Antibes and beyond to Juan-les-Pins.

Another evening, we took the train to Juans-les-Pins, nicknamed the Millionaire’s Bay, and enjoyed a very expensive cocktail in one of the bars on the beach. The closer you get to the sea, the more expensive the drinks. We walked along the seafront for a few minutes and then, because it was a particularly beautiful evening, and because we never got to St Tropez, we stopped at Le Cap D’Antibes beach hotel, and had an even more expensive cocktail. A brief taste of life in the fast lane.  After that, I put myself in David’s capable hands as he lead us back to old Antibes on foot via some of the spectacular houses which grace the hills of Cap D’Antibes, and I thought I caught a whiff of the perfume of Zelda Fitzgerald…or was it Elizabeth Taylor? Antibes has long been on the ‘Must Do’ list of the international jet set.

Back in Old Antibes, we ducked into a tiny wine bar and soon found ourselves sharing plates of Corsican food. Looking about the walls,  I saw maps and flags and posters advertising Corsica.  We were served by a bilingual woman who told us that she was Canadian. This was confusing, until she explained that she had recently moved to Antibes to be with her Corsican boyfriend who was working alongside her. The excellent small plates mysteriously arrived in a dumb waiter. When I asked where the toilets were, the waitress told me ‘C’est an adventure’. I pulled a handle and what looked like an ancient linen cupboard slid back revealing a loo. At the end of the meal, our waitress offered us a complementary Limoncello, despite the fact that this was the best value meal we’ve had in France. If you’re in Old Antibes, I’d like to recommend you go there but unfortunately I didn’t note down the name. I’ll see if I can find it online.