Just
a short train ride away from Du Pylone is the beach resort
of Juin Les Pins. So we packed towels, sun cream, swimming
costumes, sun cream, water, sun cream, and set off for the
train. As the station was so close to the camp site, in no
time at all we were in Juin les Pins. Much of the beach area
at Juin is private, owned by the rows of cafes and restaurants
that sprawl along and cover most of the golden sands. But
towards the west there's a public beach, and plenty of good
sand for the taking.
There
wasn't much shade on the beach, but we managed to get close
to a wall so at least we had some relief from the glorious
but strong sun. James
and Matthew loved playing in the sand, so Bridget popped
over to a nearby shop to buy a bucket and spade. James was
intrigued by the man from the restaurant next to us who
repeatedly walked up and down shovelling sand from the foreshore
up onto the beach, to maintain the level of the beach at
his restaurant. He even obliged by digging a small pond
for the boys to play in.
After
lunch we left the beach as the sun was getting too strong,
and took Le Petit Train from Juin down into the town of Antibes.
The train is, of course, a car in train's clothing, but a
fun ride none the less. As we approached Antibes the Train
started to turn into a narrow pedestrian street. "Surely
he's hot going down there" we thought, but indeed he
was, and people just had to get out of the way quickly enough
to let us through. The street was narrow enough for us to
pick shoes from the baskets outside the shops, if we'd wanted.
Right
next to the place where the Train stopped was a large fairground
roundabout, and James headed straight for the elephant. Here
he is, saying the normal "tweenies" for the camera
- as usual pausing at the syllable where his mouth is wide
open, not smiling. Matthew passed on this ride, he was saving
himself for Menton later in the week.
Just
to complete the round trip using as many modes of transport
as possible, we went back to Pylone on the bus. Fortunately
there was plenty of time to wait for the bus, so we stopped
at a street cafe for drinks. James had a grown-up Orangina
(until he got to the "bits" at the end, Malcolm
had a large pression, and Bridget had her regular Citron Presse.
