The decadent and the divine By Chin Huilin, TODAY | Posted: 30 October 2008 1206 hrs
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SINGAPORE : Relaxing on the French Riviera is not something visitors here choose to do; it is the entire raison d’être for coming here.
By day, sunbathers lounge around the pristine pebble beaches of Nice. By night, these same sun worshippers morph into stylish patrons of the swish restaurants that line the Promenade des Anglais.
With their enviously tight stomachs sated, they then head to clubs such as Le Bataleur in the pedestrian-only Cours Saleya. Most mere mortals, however, have to satisfy themselves by gawking from the outside (clubs such as these are private).
But the good news is that more accessible venues, such as Wayne’s on rue de la Prefecture, are easily found around Old Nice.
Such is the contrast of the moneyed and not-so-moneyed who descend on Nice. Stroll along the Promenade at night and you’ll hear the alternating sounds of cheerful live bands and purring French lounge music.
Still, a day trip out of Nice is always in order, especially when a one-way bus ride costs just two euros.
Cannes may be star-studded, but for sheer decadence, Monaco sets the standard.
Instead of a promenade, Monaco has an elevated vantage walkway with waist-high glass panels overlooking the vast Mediterranean Sea and other coastal towns. The impact is indelible: My friends and I stood gazing in silence, overwhelmed by the expanse of sky and sea and the pulsating colours that stretch towards the horizon.
Nearby, against a backdrop of mountains, is the famous Casino-Monte Carlo, a charming yet majestic piece of Neo-Baroque architecture by Charles Garnier (he of the Paris Opéra fame).
The pastel building lies in stark contrast to its dark wrought posts and bright friezes, and it’s hard to decide which to focus on - the casino’s gorgeous façade or the lush, perfectly-manicured garden facing it.
With the surprising lack of crowds, Monaco is almost too quiet and picture-perfect to be real, but it is probably this sense of isolation that attracts the reclusive rich - well, that and its status as a tax haven.
For commoners like us, Monaco’s splendour is in the beauty of the glowing sunset that accompanies the 45-minute journey along mountain roads back to Nice.
The living is Eze
The quieter heights of Nice provide a sense of cosy privacy.
A leisurely walk along Avenue Gravier to the top of Steep Hill leads to the enchanting Villa St Exupery, a former monastery that has been converted into a hotel-hostel. Themed around The Little Prince, its corridors are painted with scenes from the much-loved story by French author and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupery.
Run by an Englishman who looks remarkably like a stern John Cleese, the villa offers cheap house pours and excellent steaks and pastas, as well as the best information (in our books) about Cote d’Azur.
During breakfast in the chapel, the owner approached us solemnly and said: “You girls will want to take the bus to Eze Village. It has amazing views because it’s on a cliff with a small, sheltered beach at the bottom.
“And,” he added, “it has great shopping”.
A 20-minute bus ride later, we arrived at Eze Village - an artist’s hamlet set high on a cliff with narrow paths and low-roofed cottages straight out of a fairytale.
From kitschy pop art accessories in vivid primary colours to feathery throw rugs, Eze has exclusive crafts and creations made by the artists who live here.
It’s easy to get lost in Eze’s web of winding lanes, but that’s part of its magic as it allows you to experience the village’s sense of community. There are always smiling faces in doorways and happy chatter between craftsmen intent on their work.
We spent an hour in a tiny shop listening to Madame shopkeeper (who coyly refused to give her name) wax lyrical about how she carves crystals into stars and binds them with wires, before discussing the concepts behind Serge Thoraval’s famous silver jewellery.
Suitably charmed, we walk the path to the top of Eze - one every visitor should take. Like the rest of the village, the cobbled street looks like it could have been drawn from the pages of a storybook.
No doubt about it, this is a different world from the yachts and slot machines of Nice or Monte Carlo. But therein lies the point: Luxury may be the Riviera’s claim to fame, but there is a different kind of romance that lies in wait beyond the glitter too.
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