It has nearly been two months since we arrived in Cagnes sur Mer, a quiet town within 30-50 minutes of Nice, Antibes, Cannes, Monaco. My mother, sister and her family live around here, but because it's familiar, it's somehow harder to write about. Work mingled with various outings have created a time conflict, and before I knew I realised I defected on my monthly blog post. So here I am to address this lapse.
Cagnes sur Mer, Vence, Antibes
Mum's appartment
Mum wisely decided to escape to a nearby village called Caille in the mountains to avoid spending July and August, the two hottest months of the year, in Cagnes. Cuong and I thus spent a bit of time with her then took over her lovely appartment close to the seaside on condition of watering the flowers and generally doing our best not to flood her place, set it on fire or lose her keys. I am proud to say we "mostly" managed, though as we say in French, we "shouldn't sell the bear's skin before killing it", since we have a few more days to spend here.
So, about the "mostly" bit...
Flood: the flood that started in the basement of the building had nothing to do with us. Fellow residents informed us that some pump had broken. Thankfully, mum's garage stayed dry and the pump was fixed.
Fire: the fire which started 2km from the flat had nothing to do with us either, but was caused by the "Canicule", a heat wave worse than the region has ever experienced, that's according to the news and locals. Worried by the smoke cloud creeping indoors, I warned Cuong to be ready to pack his laptop and prepared myself to grab the dog and flowers (respectively his most important possession, mine, and mum's), but the 120 firemen, 45 trucks and helicopter dispatched by the French managed to put it out within the hour. I personally found all this display quite impressive but noone around here bat an eyelid, simply honhonhonhon-ing* at the resulting traffic jam (*grumbling in French for non bilinguals), which made me feel closer to feeling British all of a sudden: the day this happens in the UK just due to hot weather, we're toast as a species.
Keys: there is a very odd principle to the door lock mum inherited in her flat: one cannot open the outside double barrel lock door with a key if another key is in the lock on the inside. Why a twisted minded engineer thought this could possibly be a smart idea, I don't know. As a result, we had a bit of a mishap compounded by an unfortunate set of circumstances:
I grab Didi's lead, poo bags, insert keys in the door, remember I need sunglasses, run to the bedroom to get them, come back, grab Didi, leave, realise 10 metres down the road that keys are left inside on the door, attempt to run back while dragging a stubborn geriatric dog who refuses to be denied her walk and starts to poo glaring at me with defiance, then watch with horror as I spot Cuong downstairs holding HIS keys smiling to the post lady (who happens to exceptionally be 15 minutes late delivering Didi's food parcel on THAT day). Of course, my keys are still inside.
Mum's flat is on the first floor, at least 4 metres from the ground with a good metre overhang. To cut a long story short, with poo in bag and dog in hand and after various failed attemps and deliberations, we involved the building's cleaning lady, who directed us to the well known grumpy head of the building's management committee, who answered the door in his Y-fronts with a frown, and who fetched a very short ladder. So eventually, we found a very tall an agile maintenance guy who climbed over the balcony while his apprentice and Cuong held the short ladder. Just as I was thinking we should spare mum worry by not mentionning the incident since the head of the committee had just realised who I was the daughter of, mum's best friend walked by. She and the grumpy head of Committee started reopening some ongoing rubbish disposal long-standing dispute in the building when suddently, she noticed we were all standing there with a ladder and asked "what actually happened here?".
So that was that. Mum has been informed. After buying forgiveness from all the parties with bubbly and chocolate, we're now fully integrated in the local community, meaning Didi's walks take ten times longer every morning so we are updated by all parties about the "gossip of the day", not quite as tasty as "plat du jour", but apparently as crucial as buying bread every morning at the nearby boulangerie to keep it fresh and crispy.
Flowers: Most importantly, mum's flowers have been watered daily and are flourishing, naturally oblivious to the surrounding drama.
Some pics taken in the area including the sea, river, the building's wild cat attacking Didi, a patisserie, a flowery police station, clear waters and a weird accidental French flag made out of bodysuits straight from the 80s on a balcony.
More than sea, sun and beaches
We were initiatlly concerned about hanging around in the French Riviera at the height of the tourist season, but ended up truly enjoying our two months here. My daily routine involves walking Didi an hour alongside a canal doubling as natural reserve for numerous species of fish and wild birds under the early sun, cooking French salads, work, then in the evening with Cuong when temperature lowers a notch, either gymming or walking with Didi to the beach for a swim, before our evening meal.
The French riviera is not just about green blue sea, sand or pebble beaches. Of that, you can find plenty of pictures of online, so in this post I will rather try and show all the hidden good stuff.
Drive 30 minutes from the famous spots and you find yourself away from tourists, in near pristine and near empty forests, mountains, clear rivers and caves. Weekends, aside of being opportunities to share sea picnics or barbecues with family, are also precious to receive local tips about best things to do in less known areas to truly experience "Ze French lifestyle!". Something different to museums, restaurants or shops: it basically means a mix of semi-organised or free activities. My sister's family is a mine of fantastic tips on best things to do around here, thanks to their spirit of fun, sport and discovery. Cuong and I thus tested caving, tree climbing and canyoning. We giggled with a few butterflies in our stomach taking notes of numerous signs of typical rebellious French disregard for so-called "safety" rules that you would expect in the UK (a way there to tie people into paying extra money, restricting public access to nature and making all the fun bits bland), but we quickly realised that while adrenaline rushes are considered essential ingredients to a great time here, the French literally have your back so you can truly relax into feeling the fear, and enjoy it anyway!
La Moulière, le Loup, and Caille
Caving in the "Via Suterrata" of Parc of Moulière :
An hour drive from Cagnes into the mountains, a cave in the ski resort of "La Moulière" was discovered in 1969 by local speleologists. Since 2017, it became the first in the word open to the public for two activities: the Underground Via Ferrata (climbing iron steps/cables path) and caving. After a quick 15 minute training to use gear, similar to the one used climbing trees in GoApe, you are left on your own to walk to the cave, descend twenty meters on iron bars, and basically progress your way for a couple of hours across 350 down to 45 meters deep using iron steps, cross rope bridges, body tight bottlenecks, footbridges then climb up the cave wall back into the light. On the way, you get to admire vast caverns and a forest of dripping stalactites and stalagmites.
We had an absolute blast and smiled the whole way. I did freeze up on the last big climb up the 20 metre wall for a couple of minutes to get my shakes and fear of heights in check, since there was no real alternative to keep going up. Meanwhile Cuong was busy giggling at me from below. In my defence, I was leading the way, so he knew it was safe to go after I made it! Our favourite bits were:
Professionals who run the business stay in a shack outside of the cave, they only come to rescue you if you are significantly late coming out or of if you press one of the emergency buzzers peppered along the way. So you're in peace on your own.
There is just bare minimum gear in the cave to hook your carabiners to safety cables, and zero light except from your headlamp. So as recommended, part of the fun is to stop, switch off and experience pitch black and total silence save for the stalactite drips.
The cave is about 10 degrees, a fresh contrast to the 30 outside!
Iron ladders and basically everything in the cave is mostly slimy, muddy and slippery, there is no point trying to stay clean in there, might as well enjoy being grubby.
Body tight bottlenecks you have to creep through are left on purpose without safety cable option so you often have this Indiana Jonesey why-the-hell-did-I-put-myself-in-this-hellhole feeling, and at times wonder if the organisers wish you lost on purpose, since tourists are simultaneously loved and hated in the region.
Swimming in the Loup river and tree climbing in the Canyon forest
A fresh water river called "Le loup" (named "The Wolf" after the wolves who used to roam in the region) runs from the mountains to the shore. Great place for a swim with my mum, sister and niece in fresh waters, usually 10 degrees less than the sea.
Along the Gorges du Loup and a mere 10 minutes drive from mum's flat, are 4 of France's best tree climbing courses, which criss-cross 200 hectares of rivers, cliffs and forests with monkey bridges, moving beams, footbridges, zip line and flying trapezes, climbing, via ferrata and Tarzan jumps... As suggested by my sister and my nephew, who had also recommended the caving spot, we decided to give it a shot. My sister being a sportsy ballsy cross-country runner and her son a seasoned mountain-biker, we had to gauge whether their "it's doable don't worry, PS there are just a couple of wo-ho bits on the cliff where you struggle to reach the climbing holds if you're short but don't worry you can always bail out" meant it's scary as hell level 10, or level 6. In doubt, we wisely decided to save the hardest course they took for another time. Still, the one we picked was quite another level to GoApe and we were reminded that French kids are quite tough, our arms were pretty sore the next day! Beautiful sight though and everyone had a swell time, including the screaming dude who lost one his trainers on the 330 metre zipline across the river. Didn't spot any wolf though. And yes, yes, I know, it's ironic, why pay for climbing trees when you can do it for free to get to your balcony if you forget your keys, but as it turns out, without ropes or ladder, it's quite the challenge!
Canyoning in the Loup river
After going underground then in trees, we were just missing canyoning! You basically go down the Loup river a distance or 1 km in a supervised group for a couple of hours, alternating jumps, slides and swimming in the clear waters. Jumps are from 2 to 8 meters with slides up to 16 meters. Our two guides do this on the side in the summer. Their 'real job', being experienced firemen, is to pilot water bomber helicopters (useful in the region as we found out), rescue tourists with broken ankles stuck in cliffs in all seasons, and occasionally (ahem) lend their ladders to help people who locked themselves out of their flats get back in. They are off next week to Greece and Ivory Coast to train helicopter rescue teams. Needless to say we felt in very safe hands, though they like to use them to give people the odd push, just for fun.
The water was quite cold at 14 degrees, but again, it was all fun, laughter and adrenaline. A daredevil couple even brought their 6 year old, who wasn't so much phased with the high jumps as he was upset by his frozen feet, so the eldest fireman, in his 60s (dude wearing the red helmet in the pic), just whipped him up on his shoulders and finished the course carrying him!
Visiting mum in Caille
At the weekend, an hour drive from Cagnes and near where we went to the cave, we visited mum and her partner in the tiny village of "Caille", randomly famous for.... being landed on by a massive 625 kilo meteorite in 1828, the largest in France to date🤔. Their rented accommodation is actually an annex to the local castle. No AirBnb business, they found out about it old skool way by mentionning to someone they loved the village, who recommended they talk to someone, who then put them in touch with someone, etc, etc.
Their place was crazy, as we say in French, "in its juice" meaning pretty much nothing was changed in deco since back in the days in the 16th century... The wallpapers and ceiling are peeling in places, but the ghosts, via eery portraits of the deceased lord owners, are very much alive! Cuong, a cartesian but coming of a culture of utmost respect for ancestors and familiar with altars, could not help but feeling a tad disturbed until he was reassured by Didi's thoroughly relaxed behaviour on her Louis XV cushions. Everybody knows Spaniels have the best noses in the world and could smell a mean ghost from a mile. I, myself, believe she sniffed them, made contact and received approval from the true lords of the property: ancestors to her noble breed of Spaniels, as proven by these portraits. See? Exactly the same ghostly vibes exulting from both pictures, same pride, same beauty, same majesty! no ?!!????? 😁🫤
We enjoyed family walks in the beautiful forests with horses and mighty Patous dogs, rounding up sheep with no sight of any shepherd. As they seemed a bit haughty, we were a bit cautious but Didi, ever the bold (or reckless) one, just wagged and went to say "yo hi, wassup", as if they were a bunch of chihuahuas. They seemed a bit surprised, but let her live 😬
As small as the village is, it is quite lively, were happened to be there during a big party with a Churros van (Cuong's favourites), a stage where we were rock and pop-blasted by several singers, guitars and organs in English and French. Best part of the night was my mum handing us the 'castle's keys', about twice the size of Cuong's hand and which barely fit in his pocket!
Inside the castle...
Cuong's family visit
We took a few day holidays to make the most out of a visit of Cuong's aunt, uncle and sister who flew from Luxembourg. Despite everyone having to brave a serious heatwave that gave outside walks a furnace feel, that was a great opportunity to tour Monaco, Cannes, Nice, eat great food and generally enjoy each other's company! After the first 6 months of our trip spent with just the three of us (counting Didi) except for our stay with friends in Torremolinos, it has been nice reconnecting with both our families!
We're now ready for the last chapters of our travels. Our next stop in just an hour away by car, in the coastal town of St Raphaël. That means we'll still be able to visit mum and my sis' family, we do like Cambridge but there is a floaty feeling of imminent doom, you know like sunday night before going back to work. I'm also starting to feel nostalgia looking at the sea and horizon in our daily walks before we've even left, I will leave you with it till next time... Bye!
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