A Day in Cannes

On My way to Saint Tropez, I stopped in Cannes. A friend of mine lived there with his parents. I stayed with them a few days. Every morning His mom made us croissants and huge bowls of super strong delicious coffee, half filled with heated chocolate milk. He probably still lives with them for the breakfast alone. Every day we went to the beach. Having grown up there, he had a lot of friends. They were all windsurfing. I would sketch sun bathers while they windsurfed. I was always swarmed by people watching me work. They were dressed or half dressed or barely dressed in a variety of shrinking bathing suits. Having grown up in a very modest Pennsylvania way, this was something new and different. I was smiling a lot. Mostly thinking "if my family could see me now.

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