My love for La Ciotat is a secret to no regular reader of this blog. La Ciotat illustrates the power of brands. Most people have heard about Saint Tropez, and seen the paparazzi pics. Few have actually been there.
Saint Tropez is a powerful brand. Because film stars used to play petanque and sip pastis from its tiny main square, half a century ago, it has gained this aura of jetset life. But, unless you parachute into your hotel, or arrive by sea, your Bugatti β whatever its model number β is likely to crawl into town for hours in between Peugeots and scooters before you can set foot onto the hallowed ground immortalised by Yves Montand, back in the days, and Intagrammers today.
Besides, La Ciotat has far more superyachts. The cool kids may party in Saint Tropez, the super rich stop off at La Ciotat. La Ciotat consists of three main areas. The old port, almost circular in shape, much like Saint Tropez and others. To one side, the more modern developments around the beaches. I often quip that this is the closest we have to California in the area: wide areas to jog, walk, cycle, for miles along the beach, people playing beach-volley, the odd weirdo, the street art β¦ To the other side, the shipyards, and then on to stone cliffs with rocky creeks, some accessible only via rope or boat.
The shipyards are some of the biggest in France and delivered ships β among the largest and most beautiful in the world β from to but the yards are actually far older than this.
Competition from the cheaper far East led the E. In France, this chosen one was Saint Nazaire, so La Ciotat closed down in , plunging the town into deep social gloom. When I moved to the area in , it was a deeply depressed area. Achingly beautiful landscape and dirt cheap houses tempted us, but the drab poverty and associated social problems scared us away.
