Merci, Cannes

“So, we all learned something here today. We each can take responsibility and do better in our parts," I said outside the phone accessories and repair shop. "Sennen, you understand why I warn you against games with pushing and hitting – and you should be able to see if someone's holding a phone, not to push them because it might fly out of their hand. Ailyn, you were playing the game with Sennen – you didn't tell him "no" – you were playing the game and you didn't put away your phone for safety. And I wasn't paying attention to the price they shop told me for the repair – and that was my job. Sometimes we just all have to decide to learn."

That was how we wrapped up Ailyn's phone falling, the glass cracking and me thinking the repair was 50 euros instead of 90 euros. When I thought it was 50, we agreed each kid would pay 12.50 of their own money and I would cover 25. But it was my fault I didn't catch quatre-vignt-dix and somehow thought cinquante. So that was on me. 

It all started from an innocuous moment of play at the Christmas market right after we finished lunch. The kids were tagging, pushing and making each other laugh. And a phone fell. These are the lessons of life. Better when it doesn't really matter. They were also very mature and took ownership. 

Luckily, that was the worst part of our final day in Cannes and it had the silver lining of causing us to walk around another hour – enjoying the town. After all, if I had a euro for every "I don't want to leave Cannes" or "I'll miss Cannes or "I love Cannes – let's just stay here" – none of us would have had to pay for the phone repair. 

Although it was a cool 58, Cannes was sunny, breezy and pleasant. People were out – because many are on vacation this week. The casual air of holiday filled the air as people milled up and down the Rue Antibes, Rue Hoche, Rue Menyardieer – the major shopping streets of Cannes – and of course the waterfront promenade and marina areas. The Christmas Market was busy, but not overcrowded. And at Sennen's behest, we went to Forville and Le Suquet – the oldest parts of Cannes  - that we hadn't yet traversed because they involve climbing a fairly steep hill.

Nonetheless, after a light breakfast at a cafe, we traversed the Forville outdoor market and its surrounding streets and began the ascent up into the Le Suquet – the original fortified town that was what The Man In The Iron Mask's jailors would have encountered as they ushered him from Paris to the Ile St Marguerite. 

What we found up at the top wasn't a surprise – because we have been looking at it from below the entire time: the Cannes sign, a tall stone church, clock tower and turreted walls that defined the old town. Today those walls – and those of the church itself – have lights with animated scenes and messages beamed onto them every night. The view from that angle though was superb – all of Cannes, the Ile St Marguerite and the Mediterranean at our feet. The people who founded Cannes may have been worried about their security and probably fairly poor – but they found themselves an incredible spot.

The view inspired the artist in Ailyn who took lots of photos with her phone so she could sketch later. Sennen gravitated to the history. Who built all of this? Why the castle-like walls? Was there a king or duke who lived here? Why not? Who were they protecting against? Why did the Middle Ages happen? Who fought who? How did Louis XIV come to centralize French government? Who was Louis I? Was he just called Louis? What did he do and what made him special? And can we go inside and see the church?

After a thorough review of all the topics and surveying the vista again, Sennen concluded, "I would like to be a French general in the 1600's!"

When I asked why he said that France was powerful under Louis XIV and there was cool sword fighting and cannons and stuff – but he'd win because he would have the best army. I let it stand at that.

After descending back into modern Cannes, we had one last lunch at the Christmas Market – a crepe for Ailyn while Sennen and I tried the Suisse Chalet stand where they melt raclette cheese over season wedge fries – basically fondue on French fries. It was, as the French say, superbe. 

It was right after the fondue that the phone hit the ground and the lesson learning began. But it didn't cast a pall – we walked, talked and enjoyed Cannes. We talked about how we liked that it was a city, but not too busy. That the sun shines, but it's neither too hot nor cold. That people are kind and the streets are pretty. The sea is beautiful. And it would be easy to live here – it's a life we could all imagine. Ailyn saw an art association and school near Le Suquet and fancied coming to Cannes for several months to a year to learn from REAL artists and become one herself. She's caught the bug.

The kids couldn't quite articulate why Paris no longer interested them. Ailyn said she just wants to see the Eiffel Tower – but aside from that, she doesn't need Paris. I keep telling them about all the wonderful things we can see and do – and that Paris is an essential part of the French experience. But they remain tepid. I can only hope being in Paris ignites their inner spark.

I suppose it's the sign of success. The kids wanted to spend their last day in Cannes with no plans other than to be in Cannes. They formed a connection to a place and culture – and that's good. They are also solid enough in that connection that they were happy to bring their weary feet back to the apartment in the late afternoon, pack our freshly washed and folded laundry and enjoy duck ravioli (Sennen) and gnocchi (Ailyn) we picked up at the charcuterie. And a few chocolates from a local artisan chocolatier. Just a quiet night in with sufficiently gourmet food (the duck was great). 

Often, on the last day of a destination, I often distill some key thoughts and observations. I try to bring meaning to what I/we have encountered and indicate how a place fits into the atlas of my life, thoughts and heart. Cannes is an interesting one. It's not spiritual or healing like Bali or Patmos. It doesn't change my worldview fundamentally like Thailand or India. It doesn't challenge me internally like Nepal.

Cannes is like a beautiful sunset at the end of a hard day. It's body temperature and I can be with it almost without knowing or trying. At one point, it represented everything I loved and wanted in French life – and I suppose it still does – but I no longer feel the need to fit Cannes or to impress the Cannois. I have observed that Cannois often dress to the hilt, but not always – and they make statements in a wide variety of ways. You never know what's going on inside people – what's "under the hood" – but there's a sense of confidence people here give off. Not in a projecting a fake image sort of way. Not in an effort to impress. Just the sense that presenting your best self is a worthwhile endeavor. And I have yet to encounter anyone who is less than kind.

Cannes is just a really nice, pretty, French place to be. Which is why I think the kids like it. It's livable . You don't wonder why or how people live here – it's obvious if you care about quality of life. And while Cannes has its lofty summits of wealth, it also has some very affordable, accessible housing. You can be Cannois if you really want to be.

All I can say is that my kids love Cannes and while there are so many places in the world I have yet to see and experience, I can't help but feel this isn't my last dance with Cannes. If for no other reason than the kids, I expect I'll be back. Sweet, simple comfort, beauty and appreciation are virtues.

Merci, Cannes.