It was actually too cool to swim today, and wind had whipped the waves up too high, as well. So I took a pass on my daily swim and accompanied Darlene downtown for one of our shopping/reading expeditions. As usual, I ended up tired of finding no good chairs to commandeer in the fashionable stores, so it was time to turn on the walkie-talkies. I camped out at a café with today’s Le Monde and a book of Coleridge’s poems I’d just purchased at the stuffy English Bookstore. Darlene headed off for some varsity shopping and by evening had scored two killer bathing suits and a top.

Later, along the Croisette, I saw so many wonderful characters that I wanted to take photos every 10 feet. On the seaside promenade at the end of the day in Cannes, everyone looks like as if they should be in a movie–even the obviously American tourist in khaki Bermuda shorts, an Ocean Park Maine t-shirt, baggy tan socks, and a Tilley’s canvass hat, the one pretending to photograph trees and clouds with his digital camera.

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