Each evening the sun sets over the bay of Juan-les-Pins, France. On the east side of Cap d’Antibes at Antibes, a neighboring town, there is a sunrise and every single day over Juan a sunset, and they are absolutely free. An earnest flâneur should not miss any of them. No time is wasted from important tasks with a sunset. Sit under it. Leave whatever you are doing and watch it.
Note the twilight of a sunset. Is the sun above or below the horizon? Are day and night linked? Is it not true that they cannot be one without the other? That they cannot exist at the same time? Always together yet forever apart?
Pausing looking watching pondering. I am within myself. No longer churning in my brain. Stillness. I wonder if I can somehow find a way to sustain it?
Several cafés and brasseries in Juan-les-Pins line the boardwalk that curves along the Mediterranean Sea to the little village of Golf-Juan. My favorite is Café de la Plage. It is perfectly situated on the sea shore at the south end of the boardwalk. A genuine flâneur will find little difficulty eating lunch or dinner or having un pause-café here and looking. From the safety of our seat we can scan the sea. It satisfies the need for danger and uncertainty. It is mysterious, indefinitely wild, unfathomable.
A stroll along the boardwalk can be disappointing. Tourist restaurants block the view of the sea sometimes and across the street they line the sidewalk and offer expensive meals that disappoint.
Juan-les-Pins is named for the pin parasol or umbrella pine trees that are ubiquitous to the area.