Thursday, 8 December 2011
Friday, 26 August 2011
Nice felt a little like a sundrenched, overpriced Blackpool, but Cannes...Cannes stole my heart. It was a little bit of heaven, it truly was. Have you ever arrived somewhere and just known, completely known, that you could spend the rest of your life there and be totally happy? I felt like that in Cannes. The designer shops along the seafront (sunshine, sea and Chanel? More, please), the sweeping promenades, the glitering ocean. God, it was perfect. I explored everywhere, including the beautiful, winding old town and also got a boat trip to Ile St Margherite, where the Man in the Iron Mask was imprisoned. It was such an amazing place. I wandered around for ages and had my lunch on a deserted beach, paddling my feet in the Mediteranean. There's not much that beats that.
On the genuine red carpet.
On my first Saturday I caught the train the opposite way up the coast from Cannes to Monaco/Monte-Carlo with a couple of girls from my hostel room. It's almost comical how pretentious Monte-Carlo is. I mean, it's absolutely stunning - the architecture is gorgeous and the views are mindblowing, but please. Yes, we see your Ferrari/Bentley/Porsche. Get over it. Also, I was stuned by how tiny the place is. I mean, it is literally a bay, maybe a mile across, with Monte-Carlo on one side and Monaco on the other. I did fall quite in love with Monaco, though. There was flags everywhere for the marriage of the prince (how very Gossip Girl) which was a couple of weeks after I was there, and the palace was beautiful. I went inside and it was fabulous. The tiny town of Monaco is stunning too. I walked around all the little streets and went in the church where Princess Grace and all the other (less famous) princes and princes are buried. It was all very grand and beautiful, but if I had millions to spend on real estate, I think there are a hundred places I'd prefer to live (such as Cannes).
The most millionaires per square foot, or something like that. Looking from Monaco to Monte-Carlo.
The palace in Monaco.
L-R, Tatiana, Me, Galia
Just outside my apartment.
L-R Sarah, Ozzie, Cherie, Angeline, Me, Gabrielle
I forgot to teach them how to spell 'bye'.
Come si dice...
Rambo Balboa and some dead dwarves
Me in Turin
The Super Super Super Stars
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Monday, 6 June 2011
The older I get and the more I read and watch and learn about World War 2, the more I understand – and if not understand, then at least begin to comprehend – the immeasurable bravery of the men who fought, not for themselves, but for their families and friends and children and grandchildren and country. So that we can grow up and go to school and say what we want and choose who we want to be. Both my granddads were there in Normandy on D-Day; they both landed on Juno Beach.
Thinking about it makes me want to be a better person; it makes me want to earn what thousands of men fought – and thousands of men died – for. It makes me want to prove, in their memory, that we were worth it.
Forever remember and appreciate what they did for us. To those who died, RIP, and to all of them: thank you.
Some more fascinating photos here.