Can Do, Cannes

Today, I took a day trip out of Nice to Cannes, with a return to Nice the same day. The train between the two cities is frequent and takes about 35 minutes, give or take a few minutes depending on which train you catch.

I arrived in Cannes, a place I’d never been to before, and was seized with a Pavlovian urge to see a film because of the famous Cannes Film Festival. The festival occurs a few months from now, and I was able to fight off the impulse. The fact that the available films would likely be in French, without English subtitles, made it easier to defeat the notion.

I started the morning by walking to a hilltop church, Notre Dame d’Espérance. I not only wanted to see the church, but I figured the elevated location would give me a good overview vista of Cannes.

But I didn’t stop there. I also visited a museum and another church, and did some wandering and some sitting.

I’m pleased to report that the morning unfolded under a brilliant sun. I always prefer brilliant suns to stupid ones. Suns that aren’t willing to put in any effort to advance themselves intellectually are, well, there are no words for them.

By the end of the morning, the thinnest of layers of light-grey clouds blanketed the sky. But they were no match for the brilliance of the sun. Ironically, it would require denser clouds to outwit the sun. Or maybe it wasn’t irony, but more an allegorical commentary on our times.

But enough about the intelligence, or lack thereof, of suns. On to the narrative of the morning.

The route to Notre Dame d’Espérance took me along a pedestrianized shopping street with a charming ambiance. It was before ten in the morning on Sunday, and only a few of the stores were open. That suited me because it kept people away.

The unassuming three- and four-storey buildings bore simple colours, with only a few pastels bordering on bold. The small, square paving stones on the street added to its picturesqueness.

At the end of the street, I climbed the steps up the steep hill to the church.

Notre Dame d’Espérance

Notre Dame d’Espérance is Our Lady of Hope in English. Keep hoping, lady. Keep hoping. Then again, where has your hope gotten you? Sure, you’re famous beyond the wildest dreams of most celebrities, except maybe Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, or Oprah.

And some people claim you had immaculate relations with God, which, despite being immaculate, allegedly, according to the same people, resulted in a son.

But despite all of that, you’re now, not to put too fine a point on it, dead. So much for hope. It doesn’t spring eternal, I guess.

Nevertheless, never mind that.

As I mentioned, Notre Dame d’Espérance is atop a hill. In front of the church, there’s a short, freestanding wall a little wider than necessary for someone with acrophobia to walk along its top without his heart bursting open. Not that I’m mentioning any names. It’s something of a rampart, if you will.

On either side of the wall, there are stairs allowing people to climb to the top of the wall and walk along it. I got a great view of Cannes from up there. And it allowed me to look down on the old church across a front courtyard.

My walking tour app tells me it took more than a hundred years to build Notre Dame d’Espérance. They started in 1521 and didn’t finish it until 1627. Then, they waited another 18 years, until 1645, before they dedicated it to Notre Dame d’Espérance. Our Lady was probably impatiently hoping they’d finally finish it and dedicate it to her.

My walking tour app also tells me it’s a Gothic church, but with a Renaissance-style porch. Okay, I kind of saw the gothic in the interior, but less so the exterior. And the Renaissance-style porch? Alright. If you say so.

The interior isn’t heavily adorned, but there are some paintings and sculptures about. Behind and above the altar, there is a large, 16th-century, gilded statue of Our Lady of Hope wearing a crown and holding her baby in a crooked arm. She’s likely hoping he doesn’t need a diaper change.

In one of the side chapels, there’s also a Burgundy sculpture dating to the 14th century of Saint Anne, the allegedly-Virgin Mary, and baby Jesus.

Musée des Explorations du Monde

The Musée des Explorations du Monde is atop the same hill as Notre Dame d’Espérance. The two buildings are adjoining.

The museum occupies a former medieval castle. That is to say, it’s still of medieval origin, but it no longer serves as a castle. It serves as a museum. Please follow along, people. I can’t keep repeating myself. That is to say, I can, and because of my poor memory, I probably will repeat myself many times, but I’d just as soon not. It takes up too much time. Then again, my rambling on nonsensically takes up too much time, too. So, as soon as I regain my train of thought, I’ll move on.

Oh, yeah, the Musée des Explorations du Monde. It has an eclectic collection of tools, religious items, a mummy-style sarcophagus, cultural items such as masks and statues, and art. The ages of the items in the collection range from some centuries BCE to comparatively recent times.

I have a beef concerning the vintage of the artifacts. Not all of the labels date the items. Many do, but many don’t.

All of the text on the walls and beside the artifacts is in French. However, some of the rooms have racks with information sheets glued to Bristol board available in both French and English versions. Some of those information sheets contain only information about the general subject of the room, but some also describe a few of the individual artifacts.

The rooms are divided into geographic areas: the Arctic, the Himalayas, pre-Columbian ceramics, the Mediterranean (including Greece, Cyprus, and Egypt), Africa, and Oceania.

As I said, the building was once a castle. The castle has a courtyard. In the courtyard, there’s a watchtower. According to a sign outside the watchtower, it’s 21 metres high and has 109 steps. Visitors to the museum can climb the stairs of the tower to get views from up there. I did. The views of the Cannes seashore, Cannes behind it, the surrounding landscape, and, off in the distance, some high mountains.

Some of those high mountains were snow-capped. I meant to mention it yesterday, but I could also see some snow-capped mountains from Nice. I think it was when I walked to the top of Colline du Château. I probably forgot to mention it because snow is the last thing I want to see on this, my escape from the Toronto winter. Then again, the snow I saw here was at a safe distance and wouldn’t stand a chance of survival in the temperatures of either Nice or Cannes during my visit.

Views of Cannes from atop the watchtower:

Les Murs Pients

I read that Cannes has several murals painted on buildings collectively called “Les Murs Pients” (in English, The Painted Walls). I saw only one this morning (and, because I didn’t finish this until later, I can say I didn’t see any more this afternoon). It covers the entire upper portion of one wall of a building. The mural depicts several classic film stars and scenes, along with some filmmaking equipment and filmmakers.

In the mural, I spotted Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Abbott and Costello, Humphrey Bogart, Mickey and Minnie Mouse, and a couple of others whom I recognized, but their names didn’t float up into my consciousness in time for me to write this. Maybe you’ll identify them in the accompanying picture.

Notre Dame de Bon Voyage

I wrapped up my morning in Cannes with a visit to Notre Dame de Bon Voyage.

My walking tour app rated Notre Dame de Bon Voyage as just a see, not a must-see, but how could I not go?

Notre Dame de Bon Voyage translates to Our Lady of Good Voyage. Now that I’ve spent time in and duly admired Notre Dame de Bon Voyage, nothing bad can happen to me on this and any future trips. (Knock on wood.)

The church got its start in the 15th century, when it served as a small chapel and a fishermen’s shelter. It has gone through additions and transformations since then. According to my walking tour app, much of what’s there now was designed in a Romanesque style in the 16th century. It took its current form as the Notre Dame de Bon Voyage toward the end of the 19th century.

It’s a fairly simple church with nice arches, elaborate carvings on its columns’ capitals, sculptures, and some beautiful stained glass windows above the altar and in the transepts.

And after being blessed by Our Lady of Good Voyage, it was time for lunch, safe in the knowledge that, thanks to her, it couldn’t be a bad one.

I also spent most of the afternoon in Cannes, but that’s for another post.

Other pictures from inside Notre Dame de Bon Voyage: