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Antibes, Nice and Cannes: Before French, There Was Dawn

  • Laurie Hull
  • Jan 26
  • 3 min read

Week four our French class was moved to a historic building just around the corner from our Airbnb. The kind of place with thick stone walls, tall shutters, and a marble plaque outside noting that a Marshal of France was born there in the late 1700s. Suddenly, class was no longer something I traveled to. It was part of the neighborhood. Since class was now so close, I added another routine to my day: I set out to find a beautiful sunrise every morning. I knew I was only five minutes from the ramparts overlooking the Mediterranean Sea to the east.


Each morning, I found myself above the sea, watching the sky change color by color, with views of the snow capped Alps and a striking seaside sculpture, Le Défi by Nicolas Lavarenne. Each morning felt different. The light shifted. The sea shifted. I lingered there for about half an hour each day, soaking it in, reminding myself that this slow appreciation was why I planned on staying here for seven weeks.


One morning was especially memorable. As I waited for the perfect light, a man abruptly stopped his car on the narrow cobblestone one way road behind me. Naturally, I assumed he wanted to photograph the sunrise. Instead, he ran over, pointed at me, then pointed at the sea. He wanted to take a video of me watching the sunrise. Apparently, that is his thing. Within seconds, he had filmed it, showed it to me, and we exchanged Instagram accounts. Later, he sent me the video and posted it. I love it. It is a completely different perspective of that moment, tied directly to my experience of standing there quietly, watching the light change, and reminding myself that this was real and that I was incredibly fortunate to be there. When I looked through his account, I realized he does this for many people. What a treat. And a reminder that even when you think you are just passing through, sometimes you become part of someone else’s small story too.





By week four, it was clear that whatever healthy rules I had imagined for myself were already starting to blur, as travel tends to encourage. Croissants, café, pain, vin, canard, pâté crémeux et huîtres (oysters fresh from the sea). C'est la vie!

I love coffee shops and markets. They are one of the best ways to experience local culture and also the most dangerous places for anyone pretending to limit pastry consumption. On weekends there are more tourists, but most are French or Italian, visiting from nearby cities. Still, the question remains: how does one avoid pastries when they are displayed at eye level every morning, smelling like butter and guilt?



I am starting to make neighborhood friends, which always feels like a small milestone and a deeper connection to place, my version of home. I especially love the spice ladies at the market. We see each other every morning when I walk up for my grand latte. At first, we just nodded. I had bought spices from her twice, so maybe she remembered me.


By the end of the second week, I was rewarded with a cheerful bonjour madame as they sat at a nearby coffee shop. Now we have small conversations, mostly joking, with me speaking far more English than they offer back in French. I have also noticed that many baristas are from other countries, not necessarily France, and are learning French too. That makes me feel slightly better about my own struggles and serves as a reminder that many people here are navigating language and belonging, just in different ways.


Nice has also become a familiar place. It is a short train ride away and an easy, beautiful city to navigate. Pastel colored buildings, elegant architecture, and the famous promenade along the sea make it ideal for wandering. I am told summer temperatures reach well into the hundreds, which makes the sea less scenic and more necessary.


I have yet to fully immerse myself in the old town market, but that will come. One evening, I stumbled into a light show and concert inside the Basilica, one of those unexpected moments that make wandering without a plan feel like the right plan.








We also made a short excursion to Cannes. I enjoyed the markets, seaside restaurants, and of course checked out the famous red carpet. Not particularly impressive, but why not see it. I plan to go back for more exploration. It is, after all, another easy train ride away.






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