Refined, raffish and remarkably good-looking

Our rich and noble forebears flocked south to the Riviera capital, for the sun, unbounded friskiness and the sensuous curve of the Bay of Angels. Queen Victoria befriended Sarah Bernhardt there. And, when dying in Britain, she – the queen – allegedly gasped: “If only I were in Nice, I’d get better.” I’ve no doubt she was right. Today, the city has just as much to offer – culture, good food and festivity are in the city's genes. And it’s still pulling in artists and high-rollers.

But, crucially, Nice's aspiration to sunlit sophistication is sustained by the southern blood pumping through its veins. Its heroine, Cathérine Ségurane, gained her status by mooning at attacking Turks during a 1543 siege. The local population remains feisty. Baroque churches, arm-waving commerce in the Old Town, festivals and a café terrace life of great gusto all keep the place rooted in Mediterranean reality.

