USS Cambria (LPA 36) - Naval Cruise Book

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RIVIERA 1J£7 e HAD HEARD a lot about France so when we pulled into Golfe Juan we were an eager bunch of poodle petters and perfume buyers. We came, we saw, we were conquered. It was all true. Though out of season for the bikini bathing suit and Ali Kahn set, the Riviera was still a livelv spot. Soon wise in the ways of the land we substituted ooh la la ' ' for hoop-te-do ' and made plans . . . most of which included standbys. With Cannes only three miles to the west of Golfe Juan and Nice about eleven to the east, we spread our francs out all along the Cote D ' Azur. Equipped with two key phrases, Je ne parle pas bien and lentement, si vous plait we managed to buy souvenirs and a spot of something along the boulevards of almost all of the fashionable seaside hotels where the select of Europe spend their leisure months. Chanel, Arpege, Joy and Nuit de Noel were a part of every- body ' s conversation and perfume shops did a gas-station-size business. Many would-be buyers put off the aromatic step — after all, we ' d be back for Christmas. Plenty of time. Some guys put on yodeling hats and took the Swiss tour. They came back with watches, cuckoo clocks, music boxes that worked and tales as tall as the Alps they had seen. Twelve calendar moments later it was time to leave. We debated about going over the hill in wine buckets. Instead we picked up our liberty boats and steamed out — with great plans in store for our visit to Marseille in the near future. But Manana never came . . . Above — Perfume shops did a gas-station-size business. Below — Views of Golfe Juan.

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Above — Overlooking Augusta Bay. Left — Cameos, music boxes and mandolins. Below — The end of the journey.

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