lternative to the tramway road is an inhospitable
though tantalizing lane. For large estates, shut off by walls and
hedges, are between you and the harbor. Unless you are lucky enough to
know one of the owners, you will not see the harbor of Villefranche
from the best of the lower vantage points. This side of Villefranche
is so sheltered that one resident, an American, has been able to
transform his garden into a bit of old Japan where the cherry trees
blossom in Nippon profusion and colors.

It is best to pass across the cape, not turning in at the tramway
bifurcation, until you reach the Promenade Maurice-Rouvier, which
skirts the Anse des Fourmis along the sea from Beaulieu to Saint Jean.
After you have reached Saint Jean the peninsula is before you. A maze
of superb roads tempt you, circling the fort several hundred feet above
sea level, crossing the peninsula on the slopes of the fort, and
following the sea. Returning to Saint Jean, there is still another
walk directly ahead of you to the east. The Cap du Saint Hospice is
pine-clad, with a sixteenth-century tower at its end.

The Artist and I made a mistake of twelve hours in our visit to Saint
Hospice. We should have come in the morning for the sunrise. To
remedy the error we decided to spend the night at the Hotel du Pare
Saint Jean. But the sun got up long before we did.

"Our usual luck," said the Artist with a grin that had nothing of
regret in it.

CHAPTER IX

NICE

Unless the traveler has some special reason for starting at another
point, he first becomes acquainted with the Riviera at Nice, and
radiates from Nice in his exploration of the coast and hinterland. The
Artist confessed to me that in student days the Riviera meant Nice to
him, with the inevitable visit to lay a gold piece on the table at
Monte Carlo. And it was Nice of the Carnival and Mardi-Gras. I in
turn made a similar avowal. We knew well the Promenade des Anglais,
the Casino and the Jardin Public opposite, the Place Massena beyond the
garden, where you take a tram or a _char a banc_ to almost anywhere,
and the Avenue de la Gare. The Artist had the advantage of me in his
intimate sketching knowledge of the old Italian city back from the Quai
du Midi, while I knew better than he the Avenue de la Gare. How many
times have I pushed a baby carriage up and down that street while my
wife shopped!

Nice was to us a resort, cosmopolitan like other famous playgrounds of