Also of note along the way to La Suquet was a lovely statue of Lord Brougham, only moderately covered in pigeon poo. Lord Brougham invented the whole idea of Cannes as a tourist trap, apparently by getting stuck there in a storm and thinking about how great it would be if a bunch of hot celebrities were stuck there with him.

As we headed higher and higher, a view of the bay started to unfold before us. That totally made up for us having to climb up the hill except that, once again, it looked an awful lot like a view of the coastline at Nice. In fact, we began to wonder if we weren't the victims of some cruel joke to merely make us think we were in a different town. We immediately blamed Quentin Tarantino, thus justifying our recent peccadillo.