“I first visited the French Riviera as a Gitane-smoking art student in 1987. The memory of waking upon that first morning, perched high above the tumbling rooftops of the town, shadows of shutter slats carved across the bed sheets, the smell of lilac rising like tiny Champagne bubbles racing from the terrace below, is vivid. The aroma of coffee beans and the hum of chatter from the Café de Paris; it all conspired to awaken my innocence and unwittingly shaped who I was to become.”
(Michael F. Rumsby)
