My first visit to the French Riviera (known as the Côte d’Azur in France) was for a work trip to the Cannes Lions advertising festival in June 2015. It was a whirlwind few days of meetings on yachts, rosé-soaked rooftop parties and very little sleep (I assure you, this was a rare exception in my working life routine, aside from the sleep deprivation part). I knew I wanted to return to the land of blue waters and sunny skies for a personal trip when I could explore on my own schedule, so it was an easy decision to block off a week of my 2019 summer travels for the south of France.

Surprisingly, none of my friends wanted to join for any part of my 16 day itinerary in the country that boasted the highest number of international tourist arrivals in 2018. I guess I’d be doing it alone.

The Itinerary

Delta operated a seasonal nonstop route from JFK to Nice in the summer, so I was able to fly into the main Côte d’Azur airport without a connection.

Rather than using one hotel as a home base, I opted to hop around, staying at five different hotels over eight nights. Yes, it was a lot of moving, but I wanted to be able to explore a variety of areas. Plus, the south of France has an overwhelming number of fantastic hotels, and I wanted to see as many of them as possible. Finally, I considered renting a car, but ultimately decided to put the kibosh on that idea and rely on Uber instead. As much as I love a road trip, going sans car was the right choice for this trip. Uber was hassle-free, and relatively inexpensive given the convenience.

It was difficult to narrow down the long list of charming towns and beautiful hotels that Côte d’Azur offered, but I finally settled on the following itinerary:

• Nice – Two nights at the Hyatt Regency Palais de la Mediterranée
• Èze – Two nights at the Chateau La Chèvre d’Or
• Vence – One night at Le Saint Paul, one night at Chateau Saint-Martin
• Juans-les-Pins – Two nights at Hotel Belles Rives

Two Nights in Nice

In hindsight, I wish I had skipped Nice in lieu of another destination. I originally thought it would be a good place to start since I was flying into the Nice airport, but there are so many towns with way more charm than Nice that are easily accessible from NCE. Also, the hotel scene in the city leaves a lot to be desired. I struggled to settle on accommodations in Nice since nothing seemed to be all that great, but I ultimately settled on the Hyatt Regency Palais de la Mediterranée. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but the location on the water was convenient, and I was able to get perks like early check-in/late check-out, a room upgrade upon availability and a $100 credit since I booked through Amex Travel.

After a nap and a shower, I wandered around Old Nice for a while, then parked myself at a sidewalk café to people-watch with a spritz.

Dinner at Le Plongeoir

I had booked a table for dinner at Le Plongeoir, a seaside restaurant dramatically built atop pillars of rocks.

I worried that the restaurant would be all style, no substance, but the food surprised me. It was fresh, delicious and relatively light for French cuisine. Given the venue’s location on the sea, the menu was seafood-heavy, which was fine with me.

While I had walked to dinner, it was a bit of a hike to get back to the Hyatt (nearly 45 minutes on foot), and it was getting late, so I ordered an Uber for the return. The driver was a friendly young guy (he looked to be in his late 20s), who struck up a conversation with me. “You are visiting? Where from? Ah, New York! How long are you staying? You are alone?!” I was about to learn that men in France were equally as aggressive as the men in Italy. “Do you want someone to show you around? What is your number?” he asked me. HA! My Uber driver was asking me out. Fortunately, we were pulling up to the hotel. I politely declined and jumped out of the car before he could begin the full-court press to change my mind.

Wine Tour in Coteaux de Provence

I had booked a wine tour in Provence through Airbnb Experiences for my full day in Nice (okay, it technically would not be a full day in Nice, as I’d be getting out of town for most of it). I had been wine tasting in Provence the year before, but in Les Baux de Provence, farther east in the south of France. It had been a hilariously fun day with our oh-so-French guide François, and I was looking forward to seeing a different sub-region of Provence with another French guide, Pierre. The plan was to stop at three wineries and enjoy lunch at one of them with our small group (three couples and me).

Next, we visited Chateau de Saint Martin, which dated back centuries and centuries (they kept impressing the history of the place upon us). The winery had been in the same family for generations, and was passed from mother to daughter over time. I’ll admit that was a pretty cool claim to fame.

Once we made it back to Nice my buzz had worn off and I was starting to get sleepy. Pierre dropped me off at my hotel and I decided to stay in and eat an early dinner at the alfresco restaurant at the Hyatt. I had two big dinners ahead of me, so I wanted to keep things light and hit the hotel gym the next morning. BOR-ING.

Two Nights in Èze

I was excited to get out of Nice and into a smaller town. Plus, my brother was going to be meeting me! In a last minute twist of fate, Jonathan’s girlfriend Ana was called away from Shanghai on a work trip for a couple weeks. Rather than sit alone in China, my brother decided to meet me in Nice, then visit Paris and Stockholm.

I persuaded him to adjust his dates and do Paris first. Back in January, I had booked a solo dinner reservation at Mirazur for the 13th of July. Fast forward to June – Mirazur was named the World’s Best Restaurant for 2019 just weeks before I’d be dining there! (To be fair, it was #3 in the world in 2018, so it wasn’t like this recognition came out of nowhere).

Oh, and I forgot to mention that my brother’s birthday coincidentally falls on the 13th of July. Jonathan couldn’t turn down the opportunity to celebrate his birthday at the best restaurant in the world, right?! This serendipitous turn of events felt like it was meant to be.

Chateau de la Chevre d’Or

I took an Uber from Nice to Èze (about a 20 minute drive) and checked into my hotel: the opulent Chateau de la Chevre d’Or (translates to Golden Goat Castle, which is a pretty effing amazing name in my book). The medieval village of Èze sits atop the Mediterranean Sea and the hotel was centrally located within the walls of the village.

I’ll admit, the property was a bit over-the-top for my tastes, but I understood that the decor needed to fit its surroundings. The hotel was smack in the middle of a medieval village after all. I did appreciate that the rooms weren’t part of a single building; instead, they were individually placed throughout the village. I entered my room from one of the village footpaths, smugly smiling at the tourists who were just visiting for the day.

Dinner at La Chevre d’Or

Once I got settled and had a chance to properly explore the grounds, Jonathan showed up from Menton (he had opted to book a hotel in the same town as Mirazur). We had dinner reservations at the two Michelin star La Chevre d’Or (the hotel’s restaurant, in case you couldn’t tell from the name), and he wanted to have a spritz on the terrace beforehand.

It was great to see him. After tagging along on my little brother’s travels for a couple years, the tables had turned, and he was now meeting up with me. Since Jonathan is 5 1/2 years younger than I am, we weren’t close growing up, but we had become great friends as adults. He was a key influence in inspiring me to travel, and I loved being able to meet up with him all over the world. While he worked as a software developer in his day job, one of his passions was the food & beverage industry, and he had become one of my favorite dining & drinking companions.

P.S. After the fact, I learned that the Obamas had eaten lunch at La Chevre d’Or with U2’s Bono a few weeks prior. Damn. I’m not sure if I could have planned a more baller set of dinners for my brother’s birthday weekend if I had tried.

Exotic Garden of Èze

The next day was pretty relaxed. I wanted to enjoy Èze and Chateau de la Cheve d’Or, and that was about it until the big dinner. Aside from the general cuteness that comes with being a medieval village, such as winding narrow walkways and hidden shops and restaurants, one of the major sights in Èze was the Jardin Exotique. Essentially a condensed botanic garden, it was perched high above the Mediterranean Sea, uniquely overlooking the medieval village (if you can think of a synonym for “medieval village,” please let me know – I’m getting a bit sick of the phrase myself).

Dinner at Mirazur

Next, it was time for Jonathan’s birthday celebration! This could also be called the dinner reservation that I made six months in advance that my brother tagged along on at the last minute.

I took an Uber to Menton, nearly a 40 minute drive, then picked up Jonathan, and we endeavored to find a bar open for an aperitif before our 6:45pm reservation. I will always find it baffling that in many countries bars do not open until 7pm.

After a few courses and wine pairings, I relaxed into the meal and the moment, and stopped taking pictures. The setting was stunning, the food was incredibly well-executed, and I got to enjoy a rare few hours with my brother – celebrating a momentous occasion, nonetheless.

The service was excellent, as to be expected, but it did feel a bit awkward. When we were first seated, a server asked where we were from and attempted to make some small talk, but the interaction seemed forced. I don’t mean to be overly picky about these things, but when you’re eating at the best restaurant in the world it’s hard not to judge.

There was a rather loud American couple seated next to us. Jonathan and I rolled our eyes at as we listened to them tell the server how excited they were to be dining at the best restaurant in the world, how they had just eaten at Eleven Madison Park a few months ago, how they were from New York (but they actually lived in New Jersey), blah blah blah. I was obviously thrilled to be at Mirazur myself, but also clearly placed a higher value on subtlety.

After finishing our meal, we moved to a seating area to enjoy a digestif and wait for our Uber to arrive (while Ubers were available, they didn’t always come quickly, especially for a Saturday night ride from Menton to Èze). Unfortunately, the couple from Jersey was also in the same boat. “You’re from New York? So are we! Have you eaten at Eleven Madison Park? What did you think about it compared tonight?” I felt incredibly awkward critiquing the very lovely meal I had just experienced while still enjoying a drink at the restaurant, so I did my best to smile and brush off the questions.

Thankfully, my Uber arrived quickly. I dropped Jonathan off at his hotel, giving him a big hug and tried to convince him to meet me again soon (sadly, we wouldn’t see each other again for four months, when we both returned to Oregon for Thanksgiving). Then, it was back to Èze for one last night. In another brush with fate, I happened to be driving past Monaco as the fireworks were going off for the Bastille Day celebration. While Bastille Day falls on the 14th of July (the following day), the celebrations were spread out across multiple days in different cities.

Two Nights in Vence

Remember how I said I’d be doing this France trip alone? That obviously turned out to be untrue since my brother unexpectedly joined me for a couple nights at the last minute. However, I also had a couple friends in the south of France (acquired during my first and only other trip to Nice), so as much as I have been lamenting about the awkward solo dinners, you don’t have to feel TOO bad for me.

First, my friend Olivier met me in Èze. I hadn’t seen him in four years, but we reunited like old friends. He was nice enough to drive me all the way to my next hotel in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, which took about 45 minutes. My hotel was confused that I wasn’t arriving in my own car or a taxi, and Olivier was distressed about driving his SUV through the narrow streets (surprise, surprise, medieval village roads were not designed for SUVs), but all worked out, and I eventually made it to Hotel Le Saint Paul without undue trauma.

A Few Words About Saint-Paul-de-Vence

Sorry if you’re sick of me talking about medieval villages, because I’m not going to shut up about them for a while longer. I was leaving the medieval village of Èze for the medieval village of Saint-Paul-de-Vence. For brevity’s sake, I’m going to condense the name to Vence from here on out (vs. SPDV), since the French don’t seem to be big fans of applying acronyms to their medieval villages for some reason.

Èze was adorably charming, not to mention its ridiculous sea views, but Vence stole my heart. While farther inland, the village of Vence was known as a famous home for artists, past and present (past artists included Matisse, Picasso, Chagall, etc.). As I strolled the cobblestone streets lined with bougainvillea-draped, pastel-shuttered Provençal buildings, I passed numerous art galleries and studios. This place was a literal dream.

Olivier eventually had to leave me to my own devices, as he had to work the next day. We discussed meeting up in Antibes later in the week, and that was that.

Hotel Le Saint Paul

I had opted to spend the night at the only five star hotel (Hotel Le Saint Paul) in the village, surprise, surprise (although La Colombe d’Or is arguably the more historical choice in accommodations).

A Day at the Maeght Foundation

The next day was uncharacteristically gloomy and rainy for July in Provence. It was the perfect museum day, at least. Vence features the world-class Maeght Foundation that was hosting an incredible Miró exhibit while I was in town.

Stay at Chateau Saint Martin

For my second night in Vence, I chose to stay at Chateau Saint Martin, a stunningly beautiful property a 15 minute drive up the hill from the medieval village. Part of the Oetker Collection (which includes luxury properties such as Le Bristol in Paris, The Lanesborough in London, Hotel du Cap Eden Roc in Antibes and Eden Rock St Barths in well, St Barths), the Chateau Saint Martin was surprisingly less well-known than one would expect. I stumbled upon the place while researching online – and was very, very happy that I did. It turned out to be the highlight of all my hotels in the south of France.

Since the weather was so crappy upon arrival, I managed to book an appointment for a facial at the La Prairie spa onsite. My aesthetician was one the sweetest people I’d ever met, and the facial was one of the best I’d ever had. When I’m back in normal NYC life, I might need to fly to France once a quarter for a spa weekend in Vence. Who wants to join me??

I wasn’t in a huge rush to get to my next hotel, and since I only had the one day at Chateau Saint Martin, I decided to stick around for a while. First I hit the gym (surprisingly packed, and also incredibly sweaty – the all-glass box of a room was beautiful, but not at all cool with the sun shining directly through its floor-to-ceiling windows). Then it was pool time.

Two Nights in Antibes/Juan-les-Pins

After I had gotten my fill of the pool at Chateau Saint Martin, I was off for my final destination in the Côte d’Azur: Hotel Belles Rives in the seaside town of Juan-les-Pins (part of the commune of Antibes). After my wonderful stay at Chateau Saint Martin, I was slightly bummed that I wasn’t going to be staying at the Oetker Collection property in the area, Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc. However, I had been drawn to the history of Hotel Belles Rives – before becoming a hotel 90 years prior, the property had been the summer home of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. Hard to beat that.

Hotel Belles Rives

I took an Uber to Juan-les-Pins and checked into my room. It was tiny, but featured beautiful art deco design, as did the entire property.

Exploring Antibes

You may recall me mentioning that I had a couple friends in the south of France, but I’ll forgive you if you had forgotten. At the end of my work trip in Cannes four years prior, I spent a night in Nice, where I befriended Olivier and his buddy Tarek. While Olivier lived in Menton (so far east in France, he was almost in Italy), Tarek lived southwest of Nice, in Antibes. He offered to show me around when I was in town and I of course was not going to turn him down.

Tarek told me he’d pick me up from the hotel after work. I stood outside, wondering which arriving car would be his. Within a few minutes, I spotted him waving to me from a convertible BMW Z4. I’m not sure what kind of car I expected him to have, but it wasn’t that. I hopped in and we zipped around the cape.

We eventually made our way into the town of Antibes, where we ditched the car and walked around the old town. Tarek had moved to France from Tunisia for university, and now worked as an engineer for a travel technology company. His English was a lot better than Olivier’s, so it was easier to talk with him, but at times he could be brooding and intense. He also didn’t seem to have a plan for our tour, which was fine at first, but I started to get listless after an hour of wandering around aimlessly. Finally, I told him I was getting hungry, so we found a casual place with outside seating and got some food and drinks.

I spent my last full day in the French Riviera doing some of my favorite leisure activities: running along the coast, then lying by the private Belles Rives beach.

Olivier and I had discussed meeting up on my last night, but he was unfortunately suffering from an illness that sounded very similar to strep throat. Um, no thanks.

On the other hand, Tarek was more than happy to show me around in his BMW for one more night. While things had ended awkwardly the previous evening (he was interested, I was not), I was eager for some company after a day alone.

Once again, my Z4 chariot arrived to whisk me away to an undetermined location in the French Riviera. We ended up in the village of Mougins, where we wandered narrow, cobblestone Provenćal streets surrounded by ivy-laden stone buildings featuring all shades of pastel shutters. After over a week in these fairy tale-like settings, I had become immune to the charm. I took zero pictures, and finally gave Tarek a look: Why did you bring me here? He hadn’t made plans for us to dine in any of the street-side bistros and we weren’t even enjoying an aperitif in one of the local cafés… so what were we doing? He clearly had a different agenda for the evening than I did.

A couple takeaways: First, if you go to the south of France, I highly recommend checking out Mougins. It’s off the beaten tourist path and is a quintessential Provenćal village. And please make a reservation for one of the lovely bistros for me. Second, as a more general piece of advice, when you’re traveling solo, don’t settle for company just because you’re worried about being lonely. Poor Tarek was doing his best, but I wasn’t feeling it, and it was ultimately more awkward for everyone.

Sadly, my French Riviera trip did not end with a bang (refer to Florence for that story), but I still had a magical time over my eight day tour. And I still had another eight days to look forward to as I made a semi-circle around France. Next up, Bordeaux!