48 hours in Cannes

Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur - Corsica - Monaco/2024

The red carpet and the Grande Bleue under a lemon-yellow sun... Cannes, the world village of cinema, is writing a new script in which it is the heroine. A star is being (re)born to sublimate its Mediterranean heritage.

Light-stepping midget girls and stylish grannies; Chihuahuas and dwarf Spitzes carried like handbags; tourists dragging their feet, eyes glued to the blue mirror... The Croisette may be a link between land and sea, but it's still a 2.7-kilometer-long stage to see and be seen. Since 1946, celebrities from all over the world have paraded here every year during the Cannes Film Festival to a soundtrack of flashes, laughter and screams. But the mythical promenade has grown tired of being trodden. By 2025, the architects of Snøhetta (the Norwegian agency responsible for the Oslo Opera House and the pedestrianization of Times Square) will have re-enchanted it with water features, planted areas and Art Deco-style shaded areas, all on a terracotta-red floor echoing the Esterel massif and the Festival carpet. In the meantime, palaces are getting into the swing of things. Two examples are the Carlton Cannes, scheduled for renovation in 2023, and the Martinez, where this spring Jean Imbert will take over the reins of the La Palme d'Or gourmet restaurant from La Plage du Martinez. Cannes is dusting itself off... and getting younger! New hotels are attracting a young, trendy clientele, such as the Hôtel Belle Plage, with its luminous design and sublime spa, and this spring, the MOB Hotel. Boasting a roof of 55 photovoltaic panels, it will house a vegetable garden, swimming pool and Biocoop grocery store. On the Pointe Croisette, Experimental Group has taken over the Bijou Plage, a regular address. As for the legendary Palm Beach, it will be resurrected in May. Restaurants, a shopping mall, a cabaret and a select club whose members only will have access to the Gabin and Delon swimming pool filmed in Mélodie en sous-sol. A stone's throw away, the "real" Cannes is playing pétanque on the Place de l'Étang. It smells of the South and pastis. People gossip and storm off in sun-drenched accents. This lilting melody can also be heard at the Forville market on Sunday mornings. Pissaladière and socca in their baskets, Cannois gather for aperitifs on the terraces around the city's belly (soon to be renovated too). No table? Let's head for the landing stage on the Lérins islands. Sainte-Marguerite is the larger of the two. It's ideal for swimming and discovering the secrets of the Iron Mask, the famous prisoner of the royal fort turned museum. We prefer Saint-Honorat. For 1,600 years, this island has been rocked by the prayers of the monks of the Abbey of Lérins, which owns it. A feeling of peace floats beneath the umbrella and Aleppo pines, swayed by the winds. We come across a surfer, his eyes washed out by the salt. In winter, it's a secret spot for waves," he confides. In summer, the sea is flat. That's when I come for the calm. Even in high season, there aren't many people. I support this paradise in my own way, by buying the wines produced by the brothers." The boutique is full of them, as is, in fine weather, the menu at the sea-view restaurant La Tonnelle. We produce 35,000 bottles a year," says Samuel Bouton, the abbey's wine and liqueur salesman. Of the island's 43 hectares, 8.5 are red and white vineyards, blessed at harvest time. It's a place with a strong spiritual and tranquil charge. It's easy to lose track of time. Yet you have to look at your watch or count the rings of the monastery's bells to catch the only shuttle that runs every hour. Fifteen minutes later, back in the noisy, hectic other world, you're browsing for souvenirs in the Allées de la Liberté, where second-hand dealers display their treasures (Saturday and Sunday, Monday at the Forville market). A vintage poster, bathed in sunlight, promotes the Côte d'Azur for the Société nationale des chemins de fer français. Beneath a pile, we unearth another, featuring an astronaut apostrophizing the reader: "Visit the Soviet Union, home of the world's first cosmonaut!" The 1960s poster was well hidden. "I avoid offending anyone," confides Sylvie Clément of Vintage Posters. At this point, we hear Russian and then Ukrainian being spoken... We then head for the Suquet hill. This old fishing village is a labyrinth of charming alleyways, the size of a pocket handkerchief. Here, the Suquet des artistes organizes exhibitions of contemporary art. Then there's the Musée des explorations du monde, which takes us on a journey to several continents. But the sky beckons at the end of the 109 steps of the 11th-century watchtower. From up there, the horizon stretches out its arms. Clap de fin. B. D.