St. Tropez,“The pearl of the French Riviera” according to the musical “La Cage aux folles”, hosts its regatta at the end of September each year. Past years have seen profusions of Russian and Greek oligarchs and their muscle-bulging bodyguards; this year it seems to be the the Germans who have the most noticeable presence in port, including prominent marketing stands from German car manufacturers. Strangely. Volkswagen weren't evident, though I did see an open-topped Beetle. The usual smattering of chic Italian and French visitors.
The Quai Suffren, St. Tropez, is the emotional home of the home of fashion marque Naf-Naf, the name describing the quintessential basis of St. Tropez, a town where the nafs come to parade and be seen, a people watchers' and paparazzi paradise. A famous local boulangerie has given its name to a delightful cream cake, the “Tarte Tropeziènne”. To my eye, there are a lot of tarts in St. Tropez, some of them looking quite expensive. One wag suggested that now the biggest tart in St. Tropez is the town itself, the municipality having nearly gone bust by greedy taxation, is now reduced to accepting sponsorship from a watch supplier (whose clocks advertising the product adorn several prominent street corners) and selling off harbour space to car manufacturers, whose products then inevitably feature as part of the scenery.
Oh yes and the yacht crew are the coolest guys in town, looking busy whilst barefoot on deck but calmly watching and enjoying the frantic preening on-shore from the sanctuary of their harbour-side moorings as their meals arrive by courier from the over-priced restaurants.
See also my postcard of my visit in June St. Tropez