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St Tropez-Playground for The Fabulously Rich

Fake tan, expensive cars, yachts and designer clothes were what sprung to mind when I first thought of St Tropez. I was not too far from the reality, it was unlike anything I have ever seen and experienced before in my life.

We stepped off the plane at Nice airport into a wall of oven like heat and were handed the keys to a massive 4X4 jeep type vehicle which was to be our wheels for the next five days. Having never owned such a large and luxurious car(it even had cameras to help you park)it felt rather superior to anything else, however, this novelty soon wore off when we headed down the motorway in the direction to St Tropez passing towns like Cannes on the way. It was only a matter of minutes before we passed a Range Rover, Ferrari or Lamborghini. It seemed to be that if you didn’t own one of those cars you were not in the “club”. Even a BMW or Mercedes would be deemed too common and an unsuitable passport into this society.

The noticeable wealth did not stop at the cars. Our accommodation for the holiday was a family villa in the small town of Gassin just outside St Tropez. The villa was everything we could have wanted and so much more, it even had its own private swimming pool and a large garden looking out onto the hills. This was a privileged neighbourhood and you were surrounded by famous television presenters or sports stars. Apparently Gary Lineker was staying in the neighbourhood just days before us. It was impossible to walk down the street and not see the expensive cars. One villa even had a Porsche, Ferrari, Range Rover and Lamborghini parked on their drive. It was an unreal world where all the people pour over the gossip columns of the magazines and newspapers to see who is staying in the area and the prize for winning a golf competition was a designer handbag.

The small hilltop town of Gassin is more relaxed compared to the main town of St Tropez. You really got the sense of a traditional French town; they even had French flag bunting still up from Bastille Day celebrations. The town consists of one main street where many restaurants are situated overlooking the mountains and the gulf of St Tropez. Off the main street are many twisting and turning paths that meander up hill towards the big church at the centre of the town passing houses, ice cream parlours and art galleries on the way. We ate our evening meal one night at one of the restaurants on the hill called Le Micocoulier after we had been rudely turned away by the neighbouring restaurant Le Pescadou even though we had booked. Coincidentally, I think we got the better deal at Le Micocoulier as it was more friendly towards with a lively and fun atmosphere and at the end of the night our restaurant was the only one that remained full. We took the Jack Russell with us for the meal and the owners of the restaurant (who spoke perfect English) made a huge fuss over her and even brought a bowl of water over for her as it turned out that they too also own a Jack Russell. This was the intimate and friendly atmosphere that I felt was lacking from St Tropez.

On one of the days we did venture into St Tropez to visit their weekly market which was a maze of stalls selling anything from vintage designer clothing to freshly baked bread. What shocked us the most was the exceptionally high prices of the goods being sold. We bought some French scented soaps, a small bag of sweets and some bread for lunch and before we knew it we had spent at least twenty nearly thirty euros. This was nothing compared with the shops in the main town where a marshmallow lollipop was being sold for 25 euros and people were buying them. Everyone looked super glamorous and as though they had just stepped off the pages of Vogue or Harper's Bazaar. We spent the morning sitting in the main square eating croissants and drinking coffee watching the world go by. It was like watching a film. Men on mopeds were stopping off at the Hermes store opposite to collect their shopping, piling large bright orange boxes and bags onto their mopeds making it almost impossible to see where they were going. People scurried around with massive bouquets in their arms wearing “Crew” t-shirts, having been sent off the yacht to stock up on essential items before sailing off to the next port. Despite this, there is a traditional undisturbed side of St Tropez by the harbour where the old fashioned fishermen houses are situated. They are all painted in a terracotta shade of paint, traditional to the area, and have perfect views of the harbour. You can easily join the gaggle of tourists gawping at the “palaces on the water” mooring in St Tropez from countries all around the world, most popular being the Cayman Islands.

Many of the yachts left the harbour at lunch time to sail to one of the beach clubs situated along the coast. We ate lunch one afternoon at Le Club 55 on Pampelonne Beach, a den of bamboo, hundreds of round tables decked in white tablecloths and super glamorous bronzed people dressed totally in white. The restaurant is situated right on Pampelonne Beach and is only open to lunch which sometimes doesn’t finish until 8pm which makes it a really popular place to eat. The roads leading up to the restaurant are gridlock with Ferrari’s, Bentleys and Range Rovers bumper to bumper as they queue to get in. There is also a facility for people on yachts to be taken from their yachts, which are moored offshore, on speedboats to the pier so that they also can enjoy the luxuries this club has to offer. It is possible for diners to wander onto the beach after they have finished their meal and Le club 55 has provided little beach huts for two on the beach which are available for hire. There is also a small shop selling beach bags with Le Club 55 written across them and cushions made from vintage fabrics and being sold for close to 200 euros. The cheapest thing in the shop was a friendship bracelet made from threads plaited together that was being sold for 40 euros. When we were leaving we were waiting for the valet to collect our car, when we noticed that the car in front of us had just tipped the valet a 50 euro note. Despite this excessive wealth, the food and the service were amazing and I truly enjoyed my swordfish steak.

After spending five days living like a princess and experiencing the culture of the French Riviera, I have to say my opinion of St Tropez is little changed. However saying this I would jump at the chance to spend the summer there again. I mean who wouldn’t want to live like the rich and famous for a few days a year??