You climb into an air‑conditioned minibus as the early light washes the Baie des Anges silver; the coastal road unfurls like a ribbon between sea and cliff. The day moves in cinematic chapters—Èze clinging to a limestone spine, Monaco’s palace and casino glinting like chrome, and Saint‑Paul‑de‑Vence’s cobbled lanes still smelling faintly of turpentine and espresso. A guided walk in Èze leads up stairwells to a garden with views that make the Mediterranean look endless. In Grasse, a Fragonard perfumery lays out the simple chemistry of rose, jasmine and citrus; in Monaco you step onto Le Rocher to watch the palace guards and trace the Grand Prix line through Monte‑Carlo.