Sailing with the Treleavens

Very hard to leave St Tropez as we love it so stay longer, why not; times like these make us appreciate that getting around as we do leaves us free to move whenever we want to. The weather is perfect; one thing that has surprised us is it's not a very hot August and even the nights are cool.

Port Grimaud is only a few miles away from St Tropez and we spend a morning taking a look at this modern day Venice style, yacht-laden, waterway. Once a swamp in 1960, it is now 7km of canals, colourful traditional style terrace houses and 3000 boats individually at their doorstep. Very well planned with bridges over the canals but too enclosed for me.

Our stay wouldn't be complete if we didn't have one more day at the Nikki Beach Bar. Taking the yacht around to the 3 mile long golden beach we treat ourselves to an afternoon lying on huge mattresses, drinking rose wine and eating sushi, pretending to be rich. By the end of the afternoon the credit card is given a "you only live once" signature and then it's up to me and young Ian to navigate Cadiz back to St Tropez. Where is Ian… well he is in dream land; he lay next to this beautiful Romanian brown bare bum all day.

Ashore in St Tropez we enjoy a very good morning shopping, it's so good here for clothes and CDs. The beach bars have a set of music on their own CD and are the latest in electronica/dance music. Dean Martin move over, we now groove while we sail.

Up until now we have only had BBC Radio on the SSB to listen to but now we have found Riviera Radio 106.5 in English which has been a pleasant change.

Time to move on, and after a calm night between the Lerins Islands off Cannes, we head back once again to Antibes.  Its young Ian's birthday and we taxi to Juan Les Pins for dinner on the beach, literally shoes off while sitting in the sand, as the tables are to the waters edge.

One leaves and the other arrives, our daughter Janey has joined us for a week while Maximus is sailing to Sardinia and young Ian has gone home very reluctantly. He had such a good time in Europe for his annual holidays and can't wait to return next year.

Nice is the capital of the Riviera and we are lucky to get a berth in Vieux Port, a very tiny quaint marina near the old town. Surrounded by French architectural apartments and restaurants that specialise in moules et frites (mussels and fries) we find the most pleasant marina staff we have dealt with to date. A walk into the old town of Nice is charming as it hasn't changed its structure since the 1700's.

Crossing our path once again is James Pegum and we dine ashore, very nice to catch up.

This morning we woke to a thunderstorm, heavy rain and a washed boat. Nothing like a good storm to clear the air, we now have crystal clear days. Villefranche looks stunning as the pastel coloured cottages are wet and with a sunny morning the colours are vibrant.

It's a dog's life here in France as there seem to be no rules. When we flew inland I sat next to a dog in a basket and the dog ate the meal. You constantly see dogs sitting on laps at restaurants and as for the bars, they run wild under the stools having their own fun. Consequently you have to watch where you walk on the pavements.

Now back in Monaco and it takes a lot of talking to get a space in the marina. Have you ever seen Ian take no for an answer? In this beautiful small immaculate Principality I have never seen so many super cruisers lining the 3 marinas. We are all very lucky to be here.

One thing that we do find very trying is the different plugs and tap connectors that each marina uses. Ian has become very adapt as an electrician and plumber at changing them but you would think that the French would standardise things.

All dressed up, we walk to the casino square, a dazzling display of lit up white stately buildings, immaculate centre garden all lined with expensive cars. The casino is surprisingly small but dramatic but the odds at the tables don't look good to me so I prefer to watch.

Lunch at the very stylish Yacht Club de Monaco, and surprised to see a model of Merit Cup in pride of place. Merit Cup is our old Volvo 60 Merit. We had forgotten that Grant Dalton had sailed under this yacht club for the race. We had a quiet stroll around this very small state, and were very tempted to do the ride in a Ferrari around the Grand Prix circuit.

Back to our humble yacht, we now plan to cross to Corsica tomorrow, on the tail of a mistral.
 

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 24th, 2005 at 10:58 pm and is filed under 2005. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.