Southern France Rocks, Part 4

Menton used to be famous for two things: its lemons and its exceptionally sunny climate. We'd bet, however, that the city will soon add Cocteau as its third claim to fame, thanks to the opening of the fantastic Musée Jean Cocteau Collection Séverin Wunderman.

In 2005 art collector Séverin Wunderman donated some 1500 Cocteau works to Menton, on the condition that the town build a dedicated Cocteau museum. And what a museum Menton built. Opened in 2011, the futuristic, low-rise building has breathed new life into the slumbering city and is a wonderful space to try and make sense of Cocteau's eclectic work.

We're trying.

Poet, artist, novelist and filmmaker Jean Cocteau loved Menton. It was following a stroll along the seaside that he got the idea of turning the disused 17th century seafront bastion into a monument to his work.

Cocteau restored the building himself, decorating the alcoves, outer walls and reception hall with pebble mosaics.

Even our hotel, The Napoléon, celebrates him by decorating some rooms (including ours) with Cocteau memorabilia.

Despite his bizarreness Sandi really likes his art and leaves the gift shop sporting this cute cat brooch, which he designed.



Jean Cocteau loved cats but in general the French love dogs, and the French Bulldog is by far the favoured breed in these parts.



Okay, onto lemons. This is stuff they line up for. Limoncello, lemon-infused olive oil, lemon preserve, lemon wine and lemon syrup are just some of the delicious products to sample and buy at the family-run Au Pays du Citron.

Oooo la la, la lemons!

They grow a lot and they grow 'em big.

Menton's old town is a cascade of pastel-coloured buildings. We meander the historic quarter to Southern France's grandest baroque church, the Italianate Basilique St-Michel Archange (1701-03) with its creamy facade flanked by a 35m-tall clock tower and 53m-tall steeple.

Up to the hills we go.



Ste-Agnès' claim to fame—Europe's highest seaside village—is not for nothing: sitting snug on a rocky outcrop at 780m, the village looks spectacular and commands dramatic views of the area. When it's not covered in fog, that is. Unfortunately, today it is and we (and kitty) can't see a thing except what's a few feet in front of us.

We peek in the pretty church.

And in someone's window (naughty Tim).

And, as charming as it is, decide to move onto brighter pastures.

Ah, much better. This is Gorbio, a lovely, little hilltop village surrounded by towering rocky mountains and isolated from the tourist crowds of the nearby coast.

As luck would have it, it's lunch time. Beauséjour (Beautiful Stay) is the stuff of Provençal lunch dreams and serves up local fare in a buttermilk house overlooking the village square. Inside, the dining room, which looks like it's straight out of a glossy design magazine, proffers panoramic views of the tumbling vale.

The medieval half of the town of Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, Roquebrune sits 300m high on a pudding-shaped lump. The village is delightful, free of tacky souvenir shops.

The Château de Roquebrune dates back to the 10th century. It's an atmospheric place, with simple but evocative props of life in medieval times.

Fraise et Chocolat is a café with an old-fashioned deli feel. We pause on the outdoor terrace for a drink and tarte du jour. France is all about eating, folks.

The hamlet of La Turbie boasts a fortified feudal center high in the hills overlooking the Provençal coast built during the early Middle Ages to stave off raids from corsairs.

The Trophée des Alpes is a ruined, triumphal monument erected by Roman emperor Augustus in 6 BC to celebrate his victory over the Celto-Ligurian Alpine tribes that had fought Roman sovereignty (the names of the 45 peoples are carved on the western side of the monument).

Very impressive.

The tower teeters on the highest point of the old Roman road, with dramatic views of Monaco.

Sitting 675m above the sea, the Fort de la Revère is the perfect place to revel in 360-degree views. The fort was built in 1870 to protect Nice (it served as an allied prisoner camp during WWII).

We walk the path around the perimeter of the Fort taking in the spectacular views and flora and fauna.

The village of Èze in the distance.

Onto Cagnes-sur-Mer and Le Haut-de-Cagnes. This view of the new town is taken from our hotel room in the old town.

We stay at Villa Estelle in charming Le Haut-de-Cagnes. Jean Cocteau, Renoir, and even Modigliani used to pass by the front door of this authentic, restored, 14th-century Provençal mansion.

Sandi quickly settles in.

It was a challenge to get here by car—Tim shows why as the narrow streets are barely wider than his out-stretched arms.

Tim is smiling because he hasn't tasted the fish bouillabaisse yet. It turns out to be the worst meal we've ever had. Sacrilège!

Le Domaine des Collettes, today the evocative Musée Renoir was home and studio to an arthritis-crippled Pierre-August Renoir (1841-1919), who lived here with his wife and three sons from 1907 until his death.

Les Grandes Baigneuses (The Women Bathers, 1892).

The view of the garden through the drawing room window.

Renoir's wheelchair, easel, and brushes.

La Ferme des Collettes, 1915.

Le Jardin de Renoir, 1916.

Renoir's wife Aline had always been among his favourite models. Her fresh, full face and figure appeared in his paintings and sculptures thoughout his career.

The artist's studio.

The magnificent olive and citrus groves are as much an attraction as the museum itself.



Once upon a time, St-Paul de Vence was a small medieval village atop a hill looking out to sea. Then came the likes of Chagall and Picasso in post-war years, followed by showbiz stars such as Yves Montand and Roger Moore, and St-Paul shot to fame.

The village is now home to dozens of art galleries.

The L'Eglise Collégiale was constructed in the 12th and 13th centuries, though it was much altered over the years.

The Romanesque choir is the oldest part, containing remarkable stalls carved in walnut in the 17th century.

Originating from Montélimar, this exquisite almond nougatine has been the pride of the area's inhabitants for generations. The traditional nougats de Montélimar are now so renowned that both French and foreign tourists go nuts for the stuff.

There are some very narrow streets here so watch your intake of nougat.

Yup, Southern France rocks.

Lavender gelato, yum!

An ailing Henri Matisse moved to Vence in 1943, where he fell under the care of his former nurse and model Monique Bourgeois, who had since become a Dominican nun. She persuaded him to design the extraordinary Chapelle du Rosaire for her community. ‘This work required four years of exclusive and relentless attention, and it is the fruit of my whole working life. Despite all its imperfections, I consider it my masterpiece,’ he said.

From the road, all you can see are the blue and white ceramic roof tiles and a wrought iron cross and bell tower. Inside, light floods through the glorious stained glass windows, painting stark white walls with glowing blues, greens and yellows (symbolizing respectively water/sky, plants/life, the sun/God's presence).

Much of the historical center of Vieux Vence dates back to the 13th century.

A combination of perilously perched villages, sheer cliffs, waterfalls, densely wooded slopes and gushing river, the Gorges du Loup is a scenic and surprisingly unspoiled place. People come here mostly for the spectacular drive and great walking trails.

Dubbed the ‘city of violets’ because of the small purple flowers that abound beneath the olive trees, Tourrettes-Sur-Loup sits atop a sheer cliff overlooking the Loup valley.

Though violets are big business for the town (they're sent to the perfume factories in Grasse, made into candy, and celebrated during a festival held each March), we find the many artisan shops lining the streets much more interesting.

The unusual city was built so that the walls of the outermost buildings form a rampart; three towers rising above the village give it its name.

What girl wouldn't get excited over this after a long day touring in Provence?! A handsome, French-speaking husbandy returning to her 14th-century villa chambre with chilled champagne. Vive la France!