France Really Hasn’t Hit Me Yet

"It hasn't really hit me that this is France," Sennen said over a continental breakfast at a nearby cafe. "I mean, there are building and streets, but I don't know, it hasn't really hit me that this is France."

I wasn't sure what it would take since I didn't think anything looked much like America and everyone was speaking French. But you can't really decide when someone else feels like they're in France. 

Ailyn started the morning not caring where she was and probably would have slept until 10 or 11 if I had let her. But Sennen was hungry and I didn't want to allow jet lag to claim her. To my surprise, telling her France is outside and we can go see it didn't do much to get her out of bed. 

So we began our day slowly, like a rusty squeezebox.

By about 10am, we stopped at the first cafe we came to  - a few blocks down the road. I knew just looking at it that it wasn't going to be the best, but our band was not brave or motivated and they wanted food and shelter as quickly as possible. The croissants were good, the coffee fine – and none of the cooked items available at all – no eggs for us. It was still a French cafe in Cannes and that alone was still a win.

However, by mid-afternoon, after walking much of La Croisette, Sennen pronounced, "Ok, it's hit me. This feels like France. I love France!"

We came a long way in a few hours. 

What did those hours entail? Not a ton if you boil them into actionable narrative. We explored the daily outdoor morning market where Ailyn bought a lavender (not a raspberry) beret. We bought conditioner, a hair mask and shampoo for Ailyn based on the recommendations of a very nice lady at a pharmacy. We walked to the beach, up and down the promenade, admired the hotels and the beachfront restaurants, took photos under the giant Christmas tree at the Palais Des Festivals et Congres – and then proceeded to the Palais itself for "red carpet" photos. Some walking on the Rue Meynard led to shopping (Ailyn), tasting (all of us) and ogling fresh seafood at a very nice fishmonger (Sennen). Then we cruised the Christmas Market near the Hotel de Ville by the Old Marina, ate some crepes and by 3pm were all tired enough to start heading home, though with shopping stops along the way.

Ailyn was able to put away her newfound wares which included a multicolored sweater, heart bracelet, her beret and host of haircare products. Sennen managed to get himself a Cannes sweatshirt and thankfully nothing from the fishmonger. But we did manage to bring home two cheeses from the fromagier's shop (which itself was essentially a giant walk-in low-humidity refrigerator) and a chocolate bouche noel cake from a bakery we passed.

A 45 minute rest got us all recharged. We then went to the Madame Gray beach cafe – which Ailyn made it her mission to go to after seeing it earlier in the day decorated completely in Barbie Pink. Ailyn brought her sketch pad and pencils to draw at the beach at sunset. After another quick stop at home for Sennen to grab the jacket I told him he would need after sunset, Sennen wanted to explore La California neighborhood of Cannes – which, as the name implies – resembles parts of Santa Monica. We walked along the beachfront promenade, stopping at a park, joking and laughing along the way – Sennen remembering the time he pooped in the sand of a park on a Tel Aviv beach while his Grammy standing 10 feet away didn't notice. 

La Californie did not impress the kids and was a lot more walking than they had originally imagined – so we Ubered back to the center of town where we had a dinner at a cafe by the Marina, walked the Christmas Market at night and then walked home.

In truth, we probably did more walking and exploring than anything else. That's France.

Months ago Ailyn said she wanted a "shopping spree" in Paris. For Hanukkah, I gave her a 200 euro "shopping spree" in France. Even as of yesterday she was SURE she was going to do all her shopping in Paris, though I told her Cannes has some very nice shopping too. She dismissed me. Until this morning. Ailyn has been walking and shopping this town like a bloodhound tracking her target. She's very smart about it too. For 50 euros, she managed to buy a beret, sweater, bracelet and matching necklace. As the day progressed, she needed breaks to restyle herself – becoming increasingly "French" as she went.

"Where is that art supply store we saw? We haven't seen it again this entire trip!" Ailyn asked on the final walk home tonight.

"Sweetie, we've been here for just under 24 hours…." I told her. She was shocked.

I'll admit, France did sort of hit us all today. It feels like we made the most of the day and really dove into Cannes. The kids asked what we're going to do tomorrow. I asked what they wanted to do – and while they couldn't name anything, the general sentiment seemed to be "more of the same" – although we might take the ferry over to the Ile St Marguerite for an hour or two to see Fort France where The Man In The Iron Mask was kept. One thing was clear, Ailyn was not ready for a side trip to Grasse or Nice. She wants more Cannes – even if she can't list anything specific she wants to see or do other than have her nails done. 

That's just fine. We're here to absorb and experience. We can go fast or slow, see sites or just observe the details of Cannes life. It's vacation. It's France. And as I told Sennen this morning before France hit him – every block is something to new to explore.