Rita and her husband travelled with us on our Paris, Provence & the French Riviera tour, with a few personal adjustments to make the itinerary their own. Their story is funny, inspiring and full of wonderful observations about France – its people, food, culture and little quirks, all seen through the eyes of two Australian travellers. Happy reading!
 (20).png)
Rita and her husband spent two weeks exploring France in June 2026 on a rail tour from Nice to Strasbourg via Aix-en-Provence and Beaune in Burgundy.
In the midst of a European heat wave, our twelve day tour begins in Nice on the French Riviera. Waiting at the baggage carousel while my partner wrestles with our bags, I survey our fellow passengers. There’s the French family, in shorts and flip flops, likely heading to their summer house; foreigners like ourselves, anxious to get to their hotel after a long flight, and the glamour queen decked in bling who might be an actress or wealthy socialite.
I’ve heard much about Nice, from friends, celebrity travel shows, and also from crime dramas on Netflix about millionaires and inheritances. Finally here to see for ourselves we haul our bags onto the tram towards the Boulevard des Anglais where our hotel Le Suisse awaits on the waterfront. There’s still a buzz on the promenade at almost midnight, as roller skaters skilfully maneuver their way around dreamy lovers wrapped in each other.
We decide to check in and defer our exploration “à demain!”
After breakfast, fuelled by fresh croissants and coffee we climb the steps up to the botanical gardens above the “old town”. Tourists are jostling for selfies against the backdrop of the ocean and instead of competing we take a stroll through a maze of shops and restaurants, including one where there's a long queue for a very popular vegan pizza called “socca”.
The soaring temperature inclines us towards the beach where tourists unprepared for the large pebbles crawl out of the water on all fours. Locals, sensibly shod in rock shoes, are more graceful, but when finally immersed in the azure depths, all is forgiven.
Dinner tonight is at a popular seafood restaurant Le Safari, on Cours Saleya, one street back from the water. Waiters bustle around the blue and white decked tables serving unpretentious and hearty Provençal-style dishes. We strike up a conversation with a bronzed Dutch couple at the next table, their deep tans earned sailing down from Amsterdam. They own a house here in Nice and have been coming to Safari for years. Recognising our accents he tells us about hitchhiking around Australia in his twenties. She‘s curious to know more about his past, but then the food arrives.
Next day we’re booked on a small group tour, The Best of the Riviera, encompassing the towns of Antibes, Cannes, Monaco, Monte Carlo and Èze. Marco, our guide, is chatty as he drops us at our first stop in Cannes. He’ll return with croissants from his favourite boulangerie before we head to Antibes, everyone’s favourite stop. With its fresh food market, Picasso museum and coastal town vibe, it exudes authenticity and charm.
Monaco and Monte Carlo drip wealth, F1 cars, Princess Grace memorabilia and high rollers. It’s very 007. One of our group has a quick bet on the roulette wheel at the casino. You need your passport to play but she’s prepared and wins her entry fee back!
Marco suggests we explore the elite level of the Casino car park with its Maseratis and Ferraris. As a luxury car fanatic, he knows the attendant, who will turn a blind eye. We end the tour in Èze where we sample and learn about the history of making parfum at Fragonard.
Arriving late in Aix en Provence by train we find our hotel on Cours Mirabeau, where a local market is held twice a week. Next morning, umbrellas are being set up as we enjoy breakfast. There’s not much time before picking up our Fiat but I quickly choose 2 colourful scarves for gifts.
Today we’ll explore the Route de Cezanne, a short stretch of road frequented by the French painter in the early 20th century, and the hilltop Luberon villages, Bonnieux and Menerbes. In Lourmarin, we locate the grave of existentialist author Albert Camus, who died in 1960, aged 46. After spending the New Year’s holiday with his family, he chose to return to Paris by car, leaving his family to catch the train. The car skidded off the icy road and hit a tree. An unused train ticket was found in his pocket, ironically illustrating his philosophy of an indifferent universe, ruled by pure “hazard” or chance.
Aix en Provence is sweltering in 37 degrees, so tonight we dine al fresco at Le Petit Bistro in La Place des Augustins, where a crowd has thronged to watch France play Senegal in the World Cup on a gigantic screen strapped to a tree.
There’s anticipation in the air and the beer is flowing as waiters rush around with trays held aloft. Wild cheers accompany any attempts on goal. Thankfully, France wins: 3-1. Later at a nearby bar, we meet a retired sailor from Toulouse who gets drunker and more jovial as the night wears on. He sings the praises of Aix, Cezanne, and the gastronomic delights of the region, while frequently apologizing for his “bad” English, which incidentally is much better than our French!
In Lyon, our hotel is a renovated convent, palatial with high ceilings, old wooden floors and a swimming pool. Did French nuns wear bikinis? I wouldn’t be surprised, though more likely the pool was a later addition.
In the heat we opt to stay poolside after midday so taking a deep breath I jump in to do the amount of laps required to dissolve umpteen calories from my daily carb indulgences. I’m obviously overdressed in my swim cap and goggles when the only accessories attached to other people are Aperol Spritzes!
At dusk we take the funicular down to the old town. Lyon is known for its Michelin star restaurants, but we choose instead to eat at one of the many bouchons, Le Bouchon des Cordeliers, where we’re served regional comfort food in a relaxed, convivial atmosphere. The following night we try Les Ventres Jaunes (The Yellow Bellies), named for the Bresse region chickens who are fed an intense diet of local corn, giving them fat, yellowish stomachs. We order the Quenelle de Brochet, a delicious pike fish souffle, served with a rich shellfish sauce. Vive les bouchons!
Moving on to Beaune in Burgundy we take a wine tour with a guide, Max, and Thierry, a French tourist. The area is renowned for its Chardonnay and Pinot Noir and we can choose to go north or south on the Route des Grand Crus. We choose both! Max leads us into underground cellars where we taste 16 different wines. He has the keys to the chateaux so we can sample at leisure without competition.
Our tour ends in Strasbourg on the border with Germany. On arrival, while each devouring a huge salted pretzel at a cafe in the main square, we gaze up at the soaring gothic Notre Dame Cathedral just ahead. For dinner we choose Le Clou, a traditional and cozy “winstub” boasting German fare like sauerkraut and spätzle, a kind of stodgy pasta.
Strasbourg has changed hands between Germany and France so much the cultural lines are blurred. Next day, our tour guide, Lea, drives us to the old Hohenbaden Castle, a hilltop medieval castle, now a ruin, built around 1100. Climbing up we’re treated to sweeping views of the Black Forest and the Rhine Valley. Somebody on our tour finds a Canadian passport which Lea, after running all the way back up to unsuccessfully find the owner, will take to the police station in Baden Baden.
It’s 1.7 kilometres away and a popular spa town famous for the luxury retreats of wealthy Germans. You can shop at upmarket department stores, visit the Museum of Frieder Burda of contemporary art or try your luck at the opulent Grand Casino at the Kurhaus. Our last stop is the Mummelsee. After walking around the mystical lake, deep in the Black Forest, we demolish a signature Schwarzwalderkirschtorte, a sumptuous chocolate sponge with a delicious alcoholic cherry liqueur and cream filling.
At twilight, the Little France neighbourhood is calling. Famous for its canals, cobblestone lanes and 16th and 17th century half-timber houses that in bygone days belonged to fishermen, millers and tanners, it’s reminiscent of Amsterdam.
It’s the end of our tour and next morning on the way to the airport, the taxi driver gently prompts me to converse in French, which I’ve been re-learning for weeks but have been mostly too shy to use. He’s lived in Strasbourg all his life and has never wanted to leave. As the heatwave continues, we‘re somewhat relieved to be heading north to cooler climes, but when our plane takes off we tell each other that we will definitely be back one day and stay longer, to fully immerse ourselves in all the diverse experiences this country offers, and perhaps also explore a yet undiscovered part of Authentic Europe.
Our travel specialists can help you customise a tour to create your dream holiday.
