It was a rainy morning in Paris when we packed up our bags, savored one last, most flaky croissant and made our way to Gare de Lyon. I don’t know about you, but I just love trains. The beautiful stations, the old-timey feel you get when the conductor makes his call, the whistle blows and you’re well on your way to adventure…the scenic blurs of countryside that fade by with passing time as you go chugging along. Part of me pretends I’m lost in an episode of Downton Abbey while the other part of me secretly hopes we’re headed for Hogwarts.
Alas, this particular trip delivered us smoothly to Cannes via Marseilles where we changed into suits and sandals and went running for the sea. Snails seemed like an appropriate snack at this point.
Having grown up on the baby-soft sand of Siesta Key, I’m a bit spoiled when it comes to beaches – #luxuriousproblem … But I will say there is one thing I love to do no matter how coarse the grain – Walking barefoot in the sand is perhaps the most therapeutic thing a dancer (person) could find themselves doing. Something about the malleable nature of sand that seemingly hugs your toes and cushions your step…I like to daydream about these moments during the Season when my feet are stuck in satin boxes and have long forgotten the warmth of summer sun.
A day trip to Nice revealed pebble beaches, not nearly as comforting, but every bit as scenic…an afternoon thunderstorm afforded us a coffee break in the nearest créperie at the humble cost of no one’s happiness…Such is the life along the Côte d’Azur ~ Stay tuned for more…