Homme Au Mouton

From the port of Golfe Juan we caught a bus to Cannes (1.5 Euros), another place with monster yachts and pretty beaches. It was a very hot day and strolling around was a struggle. We skirted around the Cannes film festival building and took in the imprints of some famous hands.

With some not so famous feet!

We made it to the castle overlooking the harbour and tried to enter the museum  by the exit. We were ushered out by a security guard.  " Dumb English can't you see it says museum entrance 35 metres, that means around the corner." We didn't bother and rolled back down the hill for a beer and a very nice lunch.

After a brief cushion hunt, mainly to enjoy air conditioning, and a half hearted attempt to find a Free phone shop to extend our internet thingy, we caught the bus back to Hermy.

We like this port so we decided to stay another couple of days. As a result the capitainarie lady gave us a bag of goodies, mainly aimed at conservation but the thing that caught our eye was the discount card. After a day of chores we went for a shop and a post office hunt in the village.

Mrs K was still thinking cushions and the French shop Le Clercs was looking like the answer. Mrs K likes a Le Clercs and she was taken in by a French sign that said "Le Clercs 3 minutes away." I tried to say that was by car with Lewis Hamilton driving but this fell on deaf ears. It's on the way to Vallauris where we want to go anyway. So in the searing, blistering heat we set off up a steep incline with narrow pavements and speeding cars. 

After about two miles we arrive at Vallauris. But no Le Clercs.

We stopped to refuel at a patisserie. 

"Look we have made it to Vallauris, we know we want to visit the Picasso museum and we have a discount card giving us free entry. With all that going for us and it being Monday what were the chances of it being open?"

Bloody hell its open!

What started as not promising turned out great.

You can't quite help wondering about the conversation between the great man and the Mayor when he gave this to the town. 

" I have made a sculpture for the town I have come to love." 

"Great, is it Napoleon's great return to France after his exile on Elba landing at Golfe Juan?"

"Is it the allied landings in the Mediterranean freeing France from the tyranny of Nazism?"

"Does it represent the traditional potteries of Vallauris?"

"No it's a man carrying a sheep!"

Spurred on the following day we visited Antibes, another ancient port on this coast this time by train as it is only two stops up. After a brief argument with the station officer, who wouldn't accept that I was under sixty, we boarded the train, a return ticket for two, seven Euros and would have been less but for my vanity. 

Antibes is one of those places that seems to have something else. Very picturesque with lots going on. At this juncture I should point out that whilst I have a pop at Mrs K for searching out particular items for use on the boat I have been after an implement to remove fish bones for some time particularly since we are eating more fish here. 

At Antibes we found ourselves in a kitchen shop looking around when Mrs K took the bull by the horns and asked the shop keeper if he had one. Astonishingly he did and produced it from behind the counter as if highly sort after and in need of protection from thieves. We purchased it and I left the shop very pleased. 

It was at this moment that I  realised that Antibes seems to have a large number of English speaking visitors, as on leaving, I announced, perhaps too loudly, that I was very pleased that after all this time I had finally got a boner!

The old town, the market, the church tower, the castle, the beaches and the old harbour were lovely. I visited the small but good archaeological museum and Mrs K did the Picasso museum. 

Lots of shops with lots of cushions but none quite right. 

We left Golfe Juan marina in a happy mood, a really good marina and lovely staff. 

En route I popped below to check things and do the log when I became aware of Mrs K talking to someone. Looking out of the companion way I could see her chatting merrily over the side. I thought poor girl, it must have been the cushions. But then someone replied! what the hell? 

I jumped up on deck to see a large RIB alongside with about six brigands aboard. They were making strange hand gestures and were not making much sense? Were we in a minefield? were we about to strike rocks? Was the boat on fire?  

No they wanted a corkscrew. 

Strangely relieved I tossed them my nice 7 euro corkscrew at which they turned and sped off. Bloody pirates stole my corkscrew!

Perhaps the Antibes kitchen shop owner had a point!

A night at anchor at Cap Farret. A swim and a chat with the English skipper and crew of 'Minimum', then in to Beaulieu Sur Mer, Surprisingly no motor museum and judging by the lack of response to my radio calls not pronounced in the same manner as the Hampshire village. Still a lovely place with, again, fantastic Capitainerie staff and, despite its position between Nice and Monaco, very reasonably priced.