ON THE advice of your Harbour Quay resident, I went to Cannes to see what all the fuss was about.
The bus fare was £326 return compared to £2.60 from Polegate to Eastbourne, but when I got there, I have to say that for someone who has become accustomed to Poundland, Topman and the no-nonsense architecture of the Langney Shopping Centre, it was a bit of an eye-opener.
All sorts of shiny things were on sale up the quaint Rue d’Antibes and the chic Boulevades overlooking the mesmerising Mediterranean Sea glistening in the bright evening sun.
But I could not get a sausage roll anywhere, and when I tried to ask a policeman where Freeman Hardy and Willis was, I thought I was going to be arrested for begging, the look he gave me!
I thought I’d take in a bit of culture instead, but the queue for the cinema was half-a-mile long, and when I finally got there they were showing some Glaswegian arthouse flick with no subtitles, and the entrance was blocked by celebrities posing for the paparazzi so I couldn’t access the popcorn dispenser.
Fine, I thought, but by this time I was starting to get nostalgic about the Arndale Centre and the 40 watt light bulbs hanging off the pier.
And so, back home, sitting in Shades restaurant with a cheese scone (the best in England?) and a pot of tea, and the faint hope of seeing Michael Fish in Marks & Spencer, I can’t help thinking it’s not such a bad place, after all.
Western Avenue, Polegate