Prestigious Cannes is a lot more down to earth than it seems

Yes, it is. Especially, if you are down to earth as well.

Everything that happens in Cannes has to be prestigious, including its famous annual Film Festival. The Oscars definitely attract the masses. The acclaimed Cannes Film Festival seems to be more distinguished and typically taken into much higher regard than the Oscars itself. Or perhaps I personally like it a lot more because it’s not so focused on the American Hollywood Industry, and tends to showcase films from all over the world, regardless of language, budget or genre. I would say that this highly prestigious and glamorous event is, ironically, also more inclusive and diverse. Whilst the Oscars are more commercially focused, the Palme d’Or isn’t afraid to award what is unconventional and experimental.

Funny enough, Cannes also hosts just a month after the Film Festival one of the most, if not the most, highly regarded event of the year for those who work in the Advertising Industry, like myself. I have not been able to attend – a privilege reserved for those a lot more senior than me – but I always hear about it with a pang of jealousy. During the Cannes Advertising Festival, huge tech names from around the world take their spot by the beachside, to promote their innovation, and their tech and, this year I’ve heard, talk about the greatest buzzword of all – AI.

But I’m not here to talk about that.

I was in Cannes a few weeks after the Film Festival, and a few weeks before the Advertising Festival. I’d say I was wise and avoided the crowds and unavoidable closures of parts of the town, but it was accidental really. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to get to Cannes. But, being just a short train ride away from Nice, why not?

I was immediately taken by the cosy streets in the old town, which really brought Cannes down to earth. Despite all of the prestige, it is a place where people live, go on with their daily lives, getting their bread at the Boulangerie and their meat at the Boucharie, and their groceries in the local town market. They are simply fortunate to have a beautiful beach just there, just offering relaxation, the best that there is in life.

Which was what I did for most of the day. I explored the old town, and saw the views from the hill where the Chateau de La Castre stands, came back down, walked by the port envying the owners of luxurious yachts and noticed how the shows were left outside before going in (which I learned it’s an age-old practice made to keep the teak decks undamaged, and dirty soles away from the clean floor), walked along La Croisette like an aristocrat from ages gone… yet an aristocrat would not do what I did next, Got a salad from a Carrefour, and made my way to the beach, sunbathing for the rest of the day. After all, I was on holiday.

The holiday was short and as I was seeing its end coming too soon, too fast, I did dream about owning my own yacht and joked a lot about finding a sugar daddy. But let’s face it… that is not just me. I suppose I would never be able to adapt to such a luxurious lie, knowing there are so many struggling to even maintain a roof over their heads. Plus, I always envisioned myself as an independent woman, my own person, and that is such a part of my core that anytime I have to compromise a part of my principles I feel I am seeling a part of me. And if there is something I’ve learned about myself in the past few months is that these values, these principles are simply too important for me to be sold off. I cannot lose them.

I’m content to have enough to explore a little of the world – that is already such a huge privilege to have. And these were the reflections I was having that day in Cannes, at the beach. I was not there for the red carpet of movie stars, or the prestige of the best of the best in the tech and advertising industry… I was there for me, for Cannes, to really know what was the real Cannes, even if just for a few hours. And of course, I did really love it.

Check out my other posts about my stay on the French Riviera 🙂

Love,

Nic