Continuing our brief foray into the Riviera, we drove from Cinque Terra, through the Italian Riviera, and into the French Riviera, finally settling in Cannes, France. Of course, I wasn't driving, but I understand the stresses of driving unfamiliar roads. But even still, it was quite exhausting when a drive that I had heard was going to be about two hours turned into four hours, and then six hours before we finally reached the rental apartment, and got a chance to rest. Perhaps it would have taken much, much less time if the traffic was smoother, but at many points along the way (mostly toll gates), there was very heavy traffic. I can imagine that we were not the only people heading to Cannes in August for a holiday. Even once we got off the highway, we were very surprised to find that the main street was filled with cars on a one-lane street that had stop lights every 30 meters or so.
Perhaps it was the long car ride, and that which I interpreted as kitschy environment, but it all seemed like a bad version of Miami when I walked around La Croisette, a long stretch of road where there were several very upscale hotels and many more small boutiques that catered to high-priced clientele on one side of the street, and the beach on the other side. Although I don't count myself amongst the high spenders, I don't mind walking around such extravagant places and window shopping (Beverly Hills or 5th Ave come to mind). However, there were a few things that signaled this area as more kitschy than extravagant. One obvious example were the obnoxious expensive cars. (To be sure, it is not that they were obnoxious, or that they were expensive, but that they were obnoxious and expensive.) It is not startling to see such cars driving in these kinds of places, like Lamborghinis or Rolls Royces or Bentleys. However, all good sense of taste goes out the window when the Bently is painted bright red, or the Rolls Royce is blue and gold. I couldn't quite understand who would have such a car that made no sense, but then when I saw the Kuwait license plate, it seemed to come together in my mental schema.
In any case, the only thing that seemed half-way decent about this portion of La Croisette was the Palais des Festivals et Congress. This is the theatre that plays as the centre of the Cannes Film Festival. While the film festival was not playing now, they are having some sort of exhibition on Michel Gondry that I might be interested in seeing.
Walking west along La Croisette, we soon came to the dock where many big, small, and medium sized boats were parked. I always like walking along boat docks because I have a secret affinity for being on a boat in the open sea, and even sailing around the world (this secret affinity I have despite my tendency to get motion sickness (which I remarked when driving through the windy mountain roads)). At this end of La Croisette, the mood was much more subdued and calm, without the beach restaurants pumping out dance music as they were on the east side of La Croisette.
For dinner, the best oyster restaurant in Cannes was chosen, Astoux et Brun. I don't often eat raw oysters, and I didn't know what exactly to expect, but I do eat raw seafood regularly. It was wonderful.
I really like the slight seasoning that they add to the oyster, such as a touch of lemon or oil, but nothing was added to take away from the taste of the food itself. Even the snails were unexpectedly good. I say "unexpectedly" because the only other time that I had snails at a French restaurant in New York, I was overwhelmed, not by the snails, but by the excessive butter that they had felt necessary to drown out the natural flavors. At Astoux et Brun, they allowed all of the flavor of the snail to be at the forefront, and thus gave a much more pleaing experience.
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