French Riviera, Corsica & Sardinia

Locals call it ‘Nissa la Bella’. The beautiful city drew its wealth from the beautiful people a century ago, as Tsar Nicholas and Pablo Picasso came to play. Artist Henri Matisse painted its flower markets and pavement cafés. His Matisse Museum makes a pleasant change from the beach: although Nice does boast 300 days of sun per year.
The city revels in its polyglot past. Greeks named it ‘Nike’ after their victory God. Italians left the colourful Old Town that endures to this day. Its cosmopolitan cuisine blends Niçois olives with pesto and tarama. Indeed, little Nice holds more Michelin stars than France’s second city, Marseille.

Monaco is the byword for glamour, gaming and the world’s greatest Grand Prix. Hedonists, racing fans and epicureans descend on the world’s chicest city-state for good reason. It boasts more bars, cars and Michelin stars per square metre than anywhere else on earth.
An amphitheatre of billion-dollar real estate surrounds the superyacht-laden port. Modern-day Monaco is like a mini-Manhattan, or a Mediterranean Hong Kong. Indeed, the nation is outrageously cosmopolitan with a cuisine to match, from ceviche and sushi to contemporary Italian and classic French. Each May, the Monaco Grand Prix weaves through these gilded streets. Visitors may cruise the circuit in a rented Ferrari F430 anytime, or take a stab at Michael Schumacher’s 1m14s fastest lap.

Cannes was founded on serious money – and the town has never looked back. It was British Chancellor of the Exchequer Lord Brougham who stumbled upon the sublime setting in 1834. Like any good businessman, he snapped up the coast cheaply, selling land on to lesser European aristocrats at exorbitant rates. Some English Lords brought their own gardeners with them. Others brought their own lawns. Whether Russian-financed, Italian-built or Moorish-styled, their fin de siècle villas now dot the coast. A carefree generation of writers and artists, from F. Scott Fitzgerald to Jean Cocteau, arrived in the 1920s. The grand hotels that dominate the Cannes skyline – the Martinez and Carlton among them – are a legacy of those decadent times. Cannes has long been more celebrity-focussed than St Tropez, more ‘fun’ than Cap Ferrat.

In 1882, artist Paul Signac sailed his yacht Olympia into St Tropez. He found a living canvas ablaze with colours, characters and countless cafés, but it was Brigitte Bardot who tempted hedonists, not artists, down to the sun. The young sex symbol was a breathless advertisement for the resort in her 1956 movie "And God Created Woman", shimmying suggestively through the nightclubs of St Tropez.
The scene is similarly liberal 50 years on. The Vieux Port establishments that served Bardot and Alain Delon now attract the likes of George Clooney and Keith Richards. Other areas of town are wildly hedonistic, most notably Plage de Pampelonne.

The towering citadel of Calvi once commanded Genoese trade routes from Nice to Napoli. Its honey-hued old town is now a ribbon of beaches that sweep eastwards along the Corsican coast. The beaches south and east of Calvi, like Tuara and Cravani, are populated only by driftwood, seashells and the occasional goat. Others, including Saleccia and Ostriconi, are so isolated you need a mule, or a superyacht, to reach them.

The Gulf of Girolata is quite literally not for everyone. In 1975 it was declared a marine reserve: a Shangri-la only accessible by sea. Restaurants in the fishing hamlet of Girolata brim with local lobster and red mullet. Deserted beaches abound in the wider gulf. Porto Plage is still protected by a Genoese Tower. Just north, a maze of creeks, islets and red rock cliffs make up the Parc Naturel Régional de la Corse. Visitors can swim between porphyry islands, basalt columns and concealed caves. Those hoping to catch a glimpse of resident tuna, swordfish and grouper will compete with peregrine falcons, sea eagles and osprey.

If you like lobster, langoustine and chilled Laurent-Perrier, you’ll love Propriano. In such a manner does Corsica’s most luxurious marina effortlessly cater to its clientele. The passerelles at Propriano also serve as a bridge into the ‘real’ Corsica. The bucolically sited Bronze Age sculptures of Filitosa and the timeless town of Sartène are a short drive away.
Two of Corsica’s finest beaches sit within a 20-minute sail of Propriano. Both are frequented more by stray donkeys than superyachts. Cupabia Plage is a triple-bayed gem with one beach bar serving three miles of golden sand. Plage de Verghia is a sheltered paradise for paddleboards and kayaks.

Bonifacio offers yachtsmen a breathtaking welcome. Security-conscious locals constructed a town that clings to a clifftop redoubt. But the more this Mediterranean port was attacked, the more beautiful it became. Successive waves of Vandal, Lombard and Tuscan raiders raised the citadel walls even higher, until it resembled a Disney-like castle on the sea. Visitors travelling under their own steam can witness more playful delights. A quicksilver necklace of bays and islands sweeps east from Bonifacio marina. Yours could be the day’s first footsteps on the white sands of Balistra Plage. Or try the clifftop golf course at Sperone, which lies balanced on the southernmost tip of France.

Imagine a Thai-style archipelago in Bahama-blue seas, blessed with Italian cuisine. Welcome to the Maddalena Islands, nature’s gift to yachtsmen. This seven-island chain basks in its own protected marine park, midway between Corsica and Sardinia. Its 50 beaches are ice-white, silky-soft and reassuringly private. Half are accessible only by boat.

The islands of Razzoli, Budelli and Spargi share 50km of pristine coastline, yet are inhabited only by shearwaters, finches and gulls. Swim ashore through turquoise shallows to the five beaches of Santa Maria Island. Yours will be the only footsteps there. On beachy Santo Stefano Island a world of exploration awaits. It was barred to boats until 2008 as a NATO marine base.

Porto Cervo appears on the Costa Smeralda coastline like a decadent mirage. This elegant harbour distils the ultimate in luxury lifestyle into one petite package. The Passeggiata promenade winds through the resort, over wooden bridges and turquoise creeks, past restaurant terraces and blissful boutiques.

The surrounding Costa Smeralda was the luxurious brainchild of the Aga Khan. His Highness was smitten by the clarity of the local water, which warm currents melt into an emerald hue. The dozen beaches around Porto Cervo are a seventh heaven of ice-white coves and translucent seas, with zero development in sight. After a day’s exertions at Phi Beach it’s time to regroup. Sundowners are at their most memorable on the terrace of the Costa Smeralda Yacht Club.

Olbia is Sardinia’s sunny gateway. An ancient Greek colony, its name translates as ‘happy town’. These bustling city streets personify their moniker. Holiday heaven is a stroll along Corso Umberto, a boulevard filled with cafés, enotecas and one-off boutiques.

Olbia sits just south of Sardinia’s legendary Costa Smeralda. This prime position makes it a perfect launch for exploring Golfo Aranci’s beachy shores. For sunseekers searching for their own deserted stretch of sand, the remote island of Figarolo crowns the bay’s northern tip. Oenophiles can sip and savour the regional tipple, Vermentino di Gallura, a crisp, floral white wine. A dozen vineyards pan north from Olbia to Porto Cervo on the Strada del Gusto wine trail.