First called the Camin deis Angles (The English Way) and funded by the Anglican Church after a particularly harsh winter, the promenade was later enhanced by the city of Nice and renamed the Promenade des Anglais. “The Prom,” as the locals call it, stretches some 7k from the Port of Nice west past the hotels and winter residences of those escaping cold climates for the sun of the Riviera. The inhabitants have changed over the years from English royalty coming on the Blue Train with their servants and baggage, to artists and writers enamoured with the light, then Russian princes, and American celeberities. After WWII, the promenade and Nice saw not only the rich and famous, but the middle class and immigrants looking for a better life.
The beaches are for the most private with sun loungers and restaurants offering the opportunity to sit under unbrellas, stretch out in the sun, be waited on, and pretend to be one of the elite, here for the Winter Season.
Nanou and I enjoy our walks, her wishing to chase the pigeons, and me closing my eyes with my face to the sun, or enjoying the the beautiful sunsets.
We spotted an older couple on a bench facing the sea, enjoying their outing. A reminder that for some, the last chapters of life are shared and enjoyed. It is comforting to know that for the fortunate, this is still a reality.