Part 3

Day 8 - Road trip from Isola to Nice

City Breaks in Saint-Jeannet - St Paul de Vence -  Tourettes Sur Loup - Gourdon

Time of the year: September

First stop - Saint-Jeannet is a hilly commune in the Alpes-Maritimes department in the southeastern Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur region in France. Saint-Jeannet is one of sixteen villages grouped together by the Métropole Nice Côte d'Azur tourist department as the Route des Villages Perchés (Route of Perched Villages). Saint-Jeannet is the kind of place that rewards you for not having a plan. Perched beneath the dramatic Baou de Saint-Jeannet, about 20 kilometres from Nice, the village feels wonderfully removed from the Riviera rush: stone houses climb the hillside, narrow calades twist between old doorways, and the landscape opens suddenly toward the Mediterranean.

The village’s medieval roots go back at least to the 11th century, when settlements known as Sancti Johannis and Alagoda were recorded here. Its position was practical as much as picturesque—the houses were built high on the southern-facing slope, sheltered by the Baou and historically protected from attacks.

Daily life here still has that slightly old-fashioned village rhythm where the landscape is part of the routine rather than a backdrop for tourists. You wander rather than commute through the old centre, pass the church of Saint-Jean-Baptiste, peek into little squares, and follow the sloping stone streets of the historic Queirard quarter.

The old communal washhouse is another small reminder of village life before running water arrived in 1876; electricity followed in 1902. Today, Saint-Jeannet mixes this heritage with cafés, restaurants, local artisans and small food producers, while the surrounding countryside remains remarkably present—vineyards, olive groves, limestone slopes and hiking paths all begin practically at the doorstep.

And then there is the food and wine—the part of Saint-Jeannet that makes lingering feel like the correct itinerary. The village was once deeply associated with vineyards and its famous grape festival; although much of the historic vineyard landscape disappeared as flowers and later housing took over, the tradition survives through producers such as the Rasse family and their Domaine des Hautes Collines.

The local tourist office also highlights saffron production at Au Safran des Baous, a family business established in 2016. Add a leisurely meal at somewhere like La Table des Baous, a coffee, a climb, a wrong turn down a calade, and a sunset over the Baous, and Saint-Jeannet starts to make sense: it isn't really a village you tick off a list—it is a village you stroll your way through.

Saint-Paul-de-Vence is the sort of village that seems to have been designed specifically for getting pleasantly lost. Tucked into the hills above the Côte d’Azur, its medieval walls wrap around a maze of narrow stone lanes, little squares and passageways where every turn seems to reveal another fountain, doorway or improbable view.

But beneath the postcard prettiness is a thousand-year history: Saint-Paul began as a fortified settlement, became an important border stronghold after the County of Nice joined Savoy in 1388, and later acquired the imposing bastioned ramparts that still define the village today. There are 11 protected historic monuments scattered through the village, so even the most casual wander has a habit of turning into an accidental history lesson.

Then there are the artists, and this is where Saint-Paul becomes something more than another beautiful Provençal village. In the 1920s, painters including Paul Signac, Raoul Dufy and Chaïm Soutine began arriving, drawn by the extraordinary southern light. Soon enough, Saint-Paul had become a meeting place for an entire constellation of 20th-century artists, writers and actors.

Matisse and Picasso dropped by, Jacques Prévert lived here for around fifteen years, and Marc Chagall made the surrounding countryside his home for nearly two decades. The legendary La Colombe d'Or became part guesthouse, part artists' clubhouse, with paintings and friendships accumulating on its walls. In other words, Saint-Paul's artistic reputation wasn't invented for tourism afterwards—the artists really did arrive first.

And somehow, despite all that cultural baggage, everyday Saint-Paul still feels wonderfully human. Walk down rue Grande early enough and you can catch the village before the day-trippers arrive, when shutters are opening, bells are ringing and the cafés are beginning to fill.

At lunchtime, the pace slows down; someone inevitably starts a game of pétanque, and the old village fountain provides its soundtrack. The streets themselves tell stories: old houses belonging to prosperous families, carved doorways, medieval details, washhouses and wells. Even the cobbles have a story—the distinctive Provençal calades were laid beginning in the 1950s, using stones originally brought from the beach at Cagnes-sur-Mer.

For the curious wanderer, the best thing to do is arguably not much at all. Follow the ramparts, duck down a side street, stop in a tiny gallery, climb a staircase that looks like it goes nowhere and see where it takes you. Saint-Paul is practically an open-air gallery, with contemporary artists still working in studios and exhibitions appearing throughout the village. You can go looking for Chagall, Prévert and Folon, visit the Folon Chapel, or head just beyond the village to the Fondation Maeght, whose opening in 1964 helped establish Saint-Paul as an international centre for modern art.

There are also sculptures tucked into streets and squares, nature walks around the ramparts and guided tours that even use augmented reality to bring characters and moments from the village's history back into the streets.

The great Saint-Paul trick, though, is to resist trying to see everything. Come for the medieval village and stay for the atmosphere; come for Chagall and end up admiring a ceramicist you've never heard of; come for the views and find yourself spending an hour over lunch instead.  Saint-Paul-de-Vence is undeniably photogenic, but its real pleasure is less about collecting pretty pictures and more about slowing down enough to notice the little things. Walk without a destination, look through every open doorway, and let Saint-Paul decide what you discover.

Tourrettes-sur-Loup is the kind of village where you enter through an old stone gateway and immediately forget that the Côte d’Azur is only a few kilometres away. Perched dramatically on a rocky spur between the Mediterranean and the foothills of the Alps, the medieval village is built almost like a ship: houses are packed tightly together, their walls once forming part of the fortifications, while narrow cobbled streets curve around the hillside.

The site has been inhabited since prehistoric times, and a fortified castrum known as Torretis was mentioned as early as the 11th century. Today, the old village still follows that medieval plan, with the 12th-century Saint-Grégoire church, the old clock tower and the Château-Mairie giving the centre its wonderfully timeworn character.

But Tourrettes-sur-Loup has another identity, and it smells considerably better: violets. Since the end of the 19th century, the village has been associated with the delicate Victoria violet, earning it the nickname Cité des Violettes. The flower became an important part of local agriculture and eventually found its way into perfumes, confectionery and bouquets.

Even today, the production follows the seasons in a rather lovely way: flowers are harvested for bouquets in autumn and winter, while leaves can be harvested and distilled for the perfume industry, linking the village directly to nearby Grasse and its centuries-old perfume tradition. At the Bastide aux Violettes, you can learn about this horticultural history and see violets still being cultivated.

There is also a wonderfully unexpected artistic side to the village. From the mid-20th century onwards, Tourrettes-sur-Loup became a magnet for artists and craftspeople, beginning with weavers and followed by potters, ceramicists, jewellers, painters and sculptors. The village's narrow streets became their workshops and galleries, creating an atmosphere that still feels more creative than curated.

There is also a wonderfully unexpected artistic side to the village. From the mid-20th century onwards, Tourrettes-sur-Loup became a magnet for artists and craftspeople, beginning with weavers and followed by potters, ceramicists, jewellers, painters and sculptors. The village's narrow streets became their workshops and galleries, creating an atmosphere that still feels more creative than curated.

Day to day, Tourrettes-sur-Loup is wonderfully suited to the art of doing very little. Start at the old gate, follow the Grand'Rue as it curves through the centre, then allow yourself to get distracted by flowers, stone façades, little shops and the occasional open gallery. Eventually you'll reach the viewpoint at the edge of the village, where the houses seem to tumble down the rock and the landscape opens toward the coast. 

Beyond the village, the Gorges du Loup provide a completely different experience—green, dramatic and carved into the limestone landscape—with hiking and canyoning opportunities nearby. And if you happen to be hungry after all that wandering, the village has plenty of places where the sensible thing is to sit down for lunch and let the afternoon take care of itself.

Tourrettes is perhaps at its best when nothing particular is happening: wander through the calades, buy something you absolutely didn't plan to buy from an artisan, find a bench with a view, and follow the scent of violets down a side street. Come for the flower, stay for the village, and leave wondering why you ever rushed through the Côte d’Azur in the first place.

Gourdon is the sort of village that makes you understand why the Côte d’Azur has always attracted people who like their beauty with a little drama. Perched high above the Loup Valley on a limestone spur, the village seems almost suspended between the mountains and the Mediterranean, with its stone houses gathered around a medieval château and spectacular views stretching across Provence toward the coast.

Known as one of the villages perchés—the perched villages—the settlement was shaped by its defensive position, and wandering through its narrow streets today still feels like exploring a tiny mountain fortress. The Château de Gourdon sits at the heart of the village, with gardens attributed to André Le Nôtre, while the old church, vaulted passages and stone façades make even a simple walk feel wonderfully cinematic.

But Gourdon is more than a viewpoint with pretty houses. The village has long been connected to crafts, particularly perfume, glass, ceramics and local products, thanks in part to its proximity to Grasse. Small workshops and boutiques invite you to browse rather than rush, while the surrounding countryside is perfect for slowing things down: hiking paths descend toward the Loup Valley, waterfalls and dramatic gorges, and the famous Chemin du Paradis connects Gourdon with Bar-sur-Loup on an old mule track.

The best way to experience Gourdon is probably to arrive without too ambitious a checklist—walk the ramparts, stop for a coffee, admire the valley, wander into a shop selling something you didn't know you needed, and then find another viewpoint just because the first one wasn't quite enough. Gourdon is a village made for looking down, looking far away, and occasionally forgetting to look at your watch.

Day 9 - Bike trip: Nice - Monaco - Menton

Time of the year: September

There are bike rides that are really about getting from A to B, and then there are rides where the road itself becomes the destination. The route from Nice toward Monte Carlo and Menton is very much the second kind.

Leave Nice with the Mediterranean on your right and the city gradually begins to loosen its grip: the road climbs and curves toward Mont Boron, the water opens out below, and suddenly you are looking straight across the impossibly blue bay toward Villefranche-sur-Mer and Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.

The first great reward is Villefranche-sur-Mer, where the mountains seem to fall directly into one of the most beautiful natural harbours in the Mediterranean. From the bike, you get flashes of terracotta roofs and turquoise water between the trees before dropping toward the old town and waterfront.

This is the moment to stop pretending you're racing: roll slowly through the harbour, have a coffee, look back at the road you have just descended, and watch the boats moving across the bay. From here, the road continues through Beaulieu-sur-Mer toward Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, a peninsula famous for its Belle Époque villas and extraordinary coastal setting. The official Côte d’Azur tourism route specifically highlights the views toward the bay of Villefranche, Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and Beaulieu from the corniche roads.

Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat is where the ride starts to feel less like a workout and more like a tour through the Riviera's private mythology. The peninsula is covered in elegant villas, hidden gardens and little lanes that disappear toward the sea, while the main road gives you tantalising glimpses of the coastline without ever quite revealing everything.

And then, almost without warning, Monaco appears. After the quieter roads around Cap-Ferrat, the sudden density of skyscrapers, tunnels, luxury cars and harbour cranes feels almost absurd. On a road bike, Monte Carlo is less about sightseeing at a leisurely pace and more about experiencing the strange transition from Riviera landscape to tiny hyper-urban principality.

You pass above the harbour, glimpse the yachts below, weave through roads that seem designed to make you question every navigation decision you've ever made, and eventually find yourself staring at the Mediterranean again. Monaco is busy and traffic-heavy, so it is worth treating this part as a passage rather than trying to turn it into a relaxed cycling excursion; experienced riders commonly note the traffic and narrow roads as part of the challenge

From Monaco, the road toward Menton becomes increasingly cinematic. Cap-d'Ail gives way to Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, and the Riviera begins to feel more Italian with every kilometre. The mountains crowd closer to the water, the colours become warmer, and Menton eventually appears almost improbably below you—a cascade of ochre, yellow and pastel buildings surrounded by palms and gardens.

The official Nice–Menton cycling route continues around Cap Martin before reaching Menton, with the old town and Jean Cocteau Museum among the city's cultural highlights. By the time you roll into Menton, you've crossed an extraordinary amount of scenery in a relatively short distance: Nice's urban coastline, Villefranche's harbour, Cap Ferrat's villas, Monaco's vertical city and finally the softer, almost Italian atmosphere of Menton.

Then comes the part that makes this route particularly satisfying: don't simply turn around and do the same thing backwards. Leave Menton and begin climbing away from the coast, heading back toward Roquebrune and La Turbie before joining the higher roads. The change is immediate. Down below, the sea that was beside you earlier is now a vast blue sheet; Menton, Monaco and Cap Martin become tiny shapes in the distance. 

The climb gives you time to appreciate how much vertical landscape you have actually travelled through. The official Côte d’Azur cycling circuit describes the return via the higher corniche and Col d’Èze as a route offering views from more than 500 metres above the Mediterranean, with the Trophée d'Auguste at La Turbie visible along the way.

The Moyenne Corniche, the D6007, is where the ride gets its road-cycling character back. Sitting between the coast road and the much higher Grande Corniche, it threads along the mountainside with views that seem to change every few hundred metres. Somewhere around Èze, you begin to understand why cyclists come to Nice specifically for these roads: the gradient demands enough effort to make the views feel earned, but the reward is constant. Below you can see Monaco, Cap d'Ail and the Mediterranean; above you are the cliffs and the old village of Èze.

The Moyenne Corniche is officially described as offering exceptional Mediterranean views between Villefranche and Èze, although it is also a busy road, so this is a section for confident road cyclists rather than a carefree family ride.

Eventually the road carries you back toward Nice, and the strangest thing happens: after hours of climbing, descending, staring at the sea and crossing half the Riviera, the city suddenly feels familiar again. You roll downhill toward the coast with tired legs, salty air and that particular road-bike satisfaction that comes from having turned a map into a physical memory.

But don't think of it as a route to complete. Think of it as a string of excuses to stop: coffee in Villefranche, a detour around Cap Ferrat, a glance at Monaco, lunch in Menton, one more climb above Èze, and finally that last descent back into Nice. On this stretch of the Côte d’Azur, the best average speed is probably the one that leaves enough time to look around.