Old Town Antibes: My Summer Compass

Every summer, my compass points south to the old town of Antibes. It’s a place I can never resist — a sunlit knot of cobbled streets where the Mediterranean seems to wink at you from every turn. Antibes has worn many names and faces over the centuries. The ancient Greeks knew it as Antipolis, “the city opposite” — opposite their colony of Nikaia, today’s Nice. The Romans fortified it, medieval lords guarded it, and artists like Picasso sought out its light, which still bathes the stone walls in a warm, honeyed glow. Oh please do yourself a favour and visit the Picasso museum!

From July 1st to August 31st, one can feast on a stroll (or a shop) from 7 p.m. to midnight among the art, craft, and jewellery stalls on the Esplanade du Pré des Pêcheurs in Antibes and on the Promenade du Soleil in Juan-les-Pins. Known in French as the Marché Nocturne (nocturnal markets) because during the day, it's too hot to shop...one melts merely at the thought of it.

I like to start with a stroll through the stalls along the port of Antibes — I need to hold myself back, as I'm obsessed with these markets. Then I pass under the old stone archways into the enchanted heart of the old city. That’s where the real stroll begins, winding my way upwards toward Rue Georges Clemenceau, pausing at Kiwi Boutique for swimsuits, beach handbags, and airy kaftans that make Côte d’Azur packing feel effortless.

Eating in Antibes is part of the pleasure. For a lively lunch, I love Chez Jules, where the tables are decorated with fresh produce and the plates brim with local flavour — though be prepared for a crowd. For a quieter, more intimate meal, I head to Restaurant Le Safranier, a tucked-away terrace shaded by trees that feels like dining in someone’s secret garden (booking essential). And for something casual yet deeply satisfying, nothing beats a thin, wood-fired pizza and an ice-cold local beer at Le Caméo, right on the main square — perfect for watching the town’s life swirl around you.

One of my other obsessions in Antibes is the old door knockers. Many date back centuries, once serving as symbols of a family’s trade or status. Some are shaped like hands, others like animals, all carefully crafted in bronze or iron. They add an artistic, almost whimsical touch to the streets — a reminder that beauty here isn’t confined to galleries; it’s built into the everyday.

Evenings are pure theatre. The obvious night markets during the summer months, musicians on the streets, and the scent of grilled fish mingle with the sea breeze. Somewhere between the hum of conversation, laughter all around thanks to a bottle of cold Sancerre and the glow of candlelit tables, Antibes always feels like it’s leaning in to tell you a secret.

Antibes, for me, isn’t just a summer stop — it’s a ritual. A place where history, flavour, craftsmanship, and a certain sun-drenched ease combine into something I never quite get out of my system.

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