The fake and the beautiful

November 4, 2008 § Leave a comment

Rain, it’s not funny anymore. It’s time to stop dammit. It’s not like France is in the middle of a drought. But I am in the middle of my fucking holiday and you are totally in the way of ME having FUN.

Bloody rain. It’s been 8 days now, and I’ve been indoors a lot. I wish I hadn’t lost my stupid book in the stupid plane. Utter boredom was beginning to have an unpleasant effect. I woke up yesterday morning and looked out the window. For a whole half an hour. Shit! I can’t be spacing out! Grrr. So I did the dumbest thing. After some more spacing out, I finally psyched myself up to venture out in the pouring rain. Yep. I decided to go to Cannes. The LONG way.

I could’ve just taken the train and been there in less than an hour. But I wanted to kill time. So I took the 1 euro bus. Cool cool. I got there in like, 3 hours. Good on me! I successfully spent half the day ‘doing something’. Hey, sitting on the bus counts. I zoned out some more as the bus crawled through Antibes and finally, Cannes.

I seemed to be the only idiot tourist there, silly enough to visit in the rain. I thought about going on the ‘grand tour’ aboard the tacky tourist train, but then realized I can see pretty much the essence of Cannes in a couple of hours by myself. So off I went and strolled past the cardboard cut-outs of Austin Powers and Jack Sparrow to explore. (No, I didn’t take any photos of myself ‘being’ the Bride from Kill Bill).

Well, Cannes was exactly as I expected. I have to say the glitzy hotels facing the beach are spectacular, especially the Hotel Majestic. Everything has a surreal quality, I noticed as I walked along the beach and looked at the line of unnatural looking palm trees. There must also be more luxury boats and cruisers in one square kilometer than anywhere else in France. Sure, there is a Hollywood feel about the place, but I think it’s only because of the tons of dressed up elderly folk I see milling about, with their fake tans and botox burnt on their skin. And their little handbag dogs in tow, Paris Hilton style.

There seemed to be some filming going on but I figured it must be some C-grade celebrity since it wasn’t really attracting a crowd. I’m on the lookout for some A-graders but I guess they are all tucked up cosily somewhere in one of them mega hotels. Naturally I had had enough after an hour or two and took the train back to Nice. A wise choice this time. By the way, it’s still raining.


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