Cannes

Cannes in early June still had the faint hangover of the festival — a few banners not yet taken down, a hotel concierge who mentioned, unprompted, which suite a specific actress had stayed in — but the town underneath the glamour turned out to be a lot more ordinary and a lot more likeable than its reputation suggested. La Croisette, the palm-lined boulevard along the bay, is exactly as polished as you’d expect, all grand hotel façades and parked yachts, but walk five minutes inland and the town becomes a place people actually live in.

La Croisette, minus the red carpet

We walked the full length of the Croisette one evening, past the Palais des Festivals where the famous steps sit closed off outside festival dates, past the beach clubs charging prices that made Lia audibly gasp, out to the Pointe Croisette where the crowds thin and the view opens back across the bay toward the Estérel hills going pink at sunset. It’s a genuinely beautiful walk, even without a single celebrity in sight, which is more than I expected.

Le Suquet and a market that doesn’t care about the festival

Above the harbour, the old fishing quarter of Le Suquet climbs a hill in narrow lanes to a watchtower with the best view of the bay in town, and at its foot the Marché Forville runs every morning except Monday, fishmongers shouting prices for that morning’s catch beside stalls of socca and Niçoise olives. We bought a bag of small purple artichokes we had no plan for and grilled them that night on the terrace of our rental, olive oil and salt, which turned out to be the correct plan all along.

When to go: Outside the festival in May, the town is calm and the prices drop noticeably. If you want the spectacle, book a year ahead and expect to pay for the privilege of standing behind a barrier.