Hotel Renoir ★★★★

I arrive under the brilliance of a gorgeous sun. No surprises there, since the weather in Southern France is often sunny all year round. It was back in 1834 that Cannes, then a quaint seaside town, first rose to fame and saw its name in lights. For almost two centuries, famous names have frequented this enchanting city, only adding to its renown. In times gone by, this was the favourite winter holiday getaway of the English aristocracy. These days, it serves film stars from around the world, and little old me, of course!

The hotel is simply a delight. Occupying an aptly charming building with a roaring twenties feel, it's a true head-turning beauty. Recently restored, the elegant and luxurious establishment features cool, contemporary decor. Fifty shades of white and taupe infuse the air with a decadent disregard for practicality in favour of aesthetic appeal, while heightening the blue of the sky as glimpsed through the tall windows. The easy tones continue into the bedroom. I chose a 'Prestige' room, with a choice of bathroom options: bathtub or Italian shower. Either way, luxury is guaranteed, but there's something so cinematic about sinking into a bubble bath and soaking your cares away. My new home is beauty and refinement exemplified and it goes without saying that all the services and accoutrements are worthy of the hotel's four-star status. In a dream, I somehow make it from the warm embrace of the soothing bath to the soft folds of my spacious bed.

I awake the next morning to rays of sunshine tickling my cheek and whispering an indulgent idea in my ear: "Breakfast in bed!". It doesn't take much to convince me. After a delicious and lavish breakfast I am refreshed, replenished and ready to explore the city of Cannes. With the stage set for an extravagant stay, I grab my purse and fly out of the hotel, closing the door to the dreamy bedroom behind me.

Out in the world, chic labels parade past in a who's-who of exclusive fashion. Feeling more like a famous name with every passing minute, I try for a moment to hold myself back and then remember that this is exactly why I came. In the impressive Michael Kors boutique, an unbearably elegant mustard-toned tote is the first crack in the snow that sets off an avalanche of many discerning acquisitions. I leave with a smile at my lips. Roll credits!