The little toy train has chugged its way up the curving incline and come to a standstill at Castle Hill, the protected 19-hectare park, from where you can look down on a view that exudes sparkle and serenity at the same time. Capital of the Côte d'Azur and fifth largest city of France, NICE exults in its exceptional microclimate and panoramic location in the heart of the French Riviera - the idyllic setting that nudged the brushstrokes of painter Henri Matisse in 1917, causing him to stay on until the end of his life.

Strolling back towards the gently changing hues of the blue-green Mediterranean, our little group pauses at the famed Cours Saleya in the Old Town. This legendary market square, brimming with exotic blooms and fresh farm produce in the day, is a master of masquerade. On Mondays, the vibrant street, also home to amateur singers, becomes an antiques marché and every evening from June to September, it transforms itself into an arts and crafts bazaar, with angst-ridden artists draped around their works. Off the main square, among the charming, little shops that spill forth with multicoloured pottery, trendy shoes and hand crafted lamps, is La Cure Gourmande, the confectionery magasin, highly rated for its petits biscuits and almond toffees. Armed with boxes of sinful, sugary delights, we quicken our pace to keep a lunch appointment at noon. The French, we discover, eat early.

Dominating the skyline of the sea-fringed Promenade des Anglais, the 1913-built, historic Hotel Negresco is the stuff movie scripts are made of. It was here, on a bar stool that acting doyen, Richard Burton absentmindedly left an emerald necklace he was to gift to then wife, Elizabeth Taylor! And it was here, in the magnificent Salon Louis X1V that venerated pianist, Arthur Rubinstein spent the night, pampered with blankets and champagne, when he refused to climb four floors during an electricity cut. Queens, kings and presidents have been celebrated guests of the hotel which was pulled out from post war oblivion and loss by Madame Jeanne Augier in the late '50s. We even bump into the perfectly turned out 80-plus matriarch who has personally transformed the hotel into an art museum of sorts with a mind-boggling collection of canvases and sculpture.