John Sutton enjoys the splendour of the fabulous Cote d’Azur
In the sunny south of France John Sutton lands in the lap of luxury.
WHEN bickering about how to recapitalise a world teetering on the brink of another financial meltdown, it’s probably best to do it in a place seemingly unaffected by recession.
This must be why the leaders of the G20 group of countries met in Cannes a few days ago, where they were hoping people who lost jobs and businesses and homes wouldn’t be waving banners and telling them how useless they all are.
Or perhaps they were trying to negotiate a loan from some of the stinkingly rich people who for some months of the year call the French Rivera home.
It’s easy to see why – strolling round Nice at after midnight in October in just shirtsleeves, the fast encroaching British winter seemed a long way off.
Yes, I’m a northern lad and don’t feel the cold, and I had my fine white wine and three cocktails jacket on, but it was still in the high teens, and felt superb.
The South of France has always attracted holidaymakers – it’s warm, accessible from all over Europe and has everything touristy you could wish for.
That means you can moor up your yacht in a harbour for a few grand a night, or for one euro, take a single bus ride all along the Cote d’Azur.
The train isn’t much dearer, and goes along the stunning Mediterranean coastline through the likes of Monaco, Cannes, Nice and San Tropez.
We started off in Nice, flying into the airport where the runway is reclaimed from the sea and taking a short taxi ride to the Hôtel Nice Riviera, just of the main square, Place Massena.