MISS AP’S LITTLE PINK BOOK: CANNES
Sometimes all a girl wants to do is stretch out on her yacht, request another glass of champagne from the butler, and get opulent. For this, she must come to Cannes. Where else would you find a nudist beach called la Plage de la Batterie? And where else would you run into Ryan Gosling in his silk pyjamas on a Sunday morning (mine were nicer, just for the record)?
Sun, sea, celebrity and spending: here’s how to do it the AP way.
Unless you are on your own (or somebody else’s) private yacht, anyone who is anyone stays at the Hotel Martinez, darlings. A spanking white Art Deco palace with sweeping views of the azure sea, it has sequestered everyone from Brigitte Bardot to Scarlet Johansson, and its rooms have provided the perfect playground for legions of sex kittens in between. If you want something a little ‘cooler’ (why? you are in Cannes – that word has no currency here) then check into the boutique-y 3.14 around the corner, where each room has a different theme, and the glitzy rooftop pool is just made for midnight watersport adventures.
When surrounded by as many social X-rays as one generally finds in Cannes, the question is not where to eat, but where to be seen to eat. It’s back to the Hotel Martinez my friends, where the Palme d’Or restaurant will provide you with some of the country’s most masterful Michelin-starred food, which you can push dextrously around your plate as you concentrate on more important things, such as whether that actress has had a boob job or not. Then after the charade is over you can do like me and duck round the corner for a nutella and banana crepe from the guy on the street. Delicious.
I went to Le Sparkling purely for the name, and I was not disappointed. One of those silly restaurant cum lounge cum nightclub places where everyone gets very dolled up and dances on the sofas, it is a fun place to drink champagne and laugh at all the cheesy dolled up drunk people, even though you are one of them yourself. Le Baoli is the place to go for funtimes with the slebs. Palm trees, up-lighting and Naomi Campbell set the scene; make sure to flutter your way into VIP for extra hijinx. If you find all of this star-gazing is making you cock-eyed, get real at tiny cocktail bar LeSun7 where they make a mean margarita.
Yours truly awaits you on the Rue du Commandant Andre.
What, you were going to go for a sail around the Bay of Nice and not buy a Lyssandra swimsuit first? Tut tut.