There has to be a sense of gloating self-satisfaction in escaping the UK in January, even more so if your journey out and back is not disrupted by weather, industrial action or mechanical failure.
I have never thought that I suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I have come to dread this month, and in 2026 the Gods have served up the UK with a delicious and unremitting cocktail of snow, rain and freezing temperatures, like an interrogator waiting for a suspect to break.
Maybe it was easier in my full-time employment days, when you stuck your head down, headed to to the office, and buried yourself there for hours. Post that time, one looks out in the morning at what passes for light, and drags oneself outside for necessary tasks. Daytime TV is made for this world, though unless there is any worthwhile sport on I refuse to engage with the television until the credits for Pointless are running.
Where to go? For some it has to be the Canary Islands or somewhere similar, for guaranteed sun, your classic winter getaway. Finding anything original is difficult, although credit to friends who thought up a combination of culture and sunbathing in Egypt. For me it was Nice.
You can immediately comment that surely anywhere in France is dubious for January weather, and even the South of France is a bit up from the perhaps surer bets of Southern Spain and Southern Italy. A fair thought, but some research into historic weather patterns shows that along the Cote, average sunshine levels are pretty good at this time of the year. And so it proved (another spoon of gloating self-satisfaction) as we had ten days with barely any rain, and every day having full sun or sunny intervals.
And now, as I build the business case, there is the bank account factor. Flights are cheaper if you do not overlap with the Christmas season ending 6th January, and same for hotel prices, enabling a stay in somewhere that would be out of the question further into the year. BA and Easyjet run services, and the airport is on the edge of the City, enabling a swift tram journey to the centre for anyone not carrying Strongman weight luggage.
So, from arrival to getting around. The City is divided into an Old Town and a New Town, with a linear park bisecting the two. The central area here was apparently once pretty insalubrious, but gentrification has put an end to that, so everywhere you would want locally is safely walkable. However, if you need public transport, there is the wonderful No.1 tram.
The full route of the No.1 is a U shape, extending at either end into the less exciting parts at the back of the Nice, but there is a central stretch running between the Station and down to near the Port. This gets you up and down the main shopping street, Rue Jean Medecin, through the central square, Massena, and then along the edge of the Old Town. At current prices, a card with 10 trips is 17 Euros. The card can be bought out of the machines at each stop, and can be used also for top-ups. All dead easy. Signs warn you of summary garrotting if you do not validate your card for the journey on entering the tram, but many people seem to play the 'spot the Inspector' game. I validated on each trip, but started to feel uncomfortably virtuous after a few days.
Another tram thing. In addition to screens showing the route there is a male voice and female voice to tell you the next stop. Words cannot adequately describe these - I can only say that, particularly for the male voice, they sound more like a seduction pitch than a communication of transport information. In a different league from 'see it, say it, sorted'.
'But when the hell is he going to do the usual where to go stuff?' Yes, of course there is plenty stuff of interest. At the high culture end there is the Musee d'Art Moderne, re-opening end May this year after refurbishment, the Musee des Beaux Arts, the Chagall Museum, and the Matisse Museum. At risk of sounding like a transport nerd, the latter two can be accessed via the No.5 bus, which you pick up by the side of Galeries Lafayette, and which winds its way up to the posho Cimiez area at the top of the City. Feel like a local as you see the grand villas en route (remembering of course to validate your ticket when you get on, as these work on the bus as well as the tram).
Galeries Lafayette - ah yes, shopping, for those to whom this is important. Rue Jean Medecin is Nice's Oxford Street (but quieter as it is dedicated to trams). Higher-end fashion is found in surrounding streets, for speculative purchases or targeted items. I will not be sniffy as I bought a pair of replacement running trainers for 20% less than I would have paid in London.
And on to where to eat. Many tourists will head to the Old Town, in the implausible belief that because it has narrow winding streets, and the food market, the eating must be better. Nothing wrong with trying it out, but don't limit yourself. The New Town has some decent places, on the theory that serious shopping should be followed by serious eating. And there is also a gem of a street, the pedestrianised Rue Bonaparte off of Rue Cassini. Just before that is Cafe de Turin, 5 Place Garibaldi, for top quality seafood - walk-ins only - and waiting staff 'of character'. This is the only recommendation I will do, partly because I am selfish and partly because everyone has different tastes.
Which brings me to the subject of hotel provided restaurant lists.They are worth consulting, but only for taking into account. I much prefer web research and, time permitting, a walk by to get the feel of a place. I will give an example of hotel list limitations. Management has to profile the client base, and will assume that in the evening people want to travel the shortest distance possible. So our list noted an attractive bistro only a few minutes from the hotel. I'm sure it would have been lovely, but it was also bang outside another hotel, a big one, so a visit would have had us in tourist central. I am not entirely a snob, but one of us speaks very good French, and the other can get by, so there is no lost in translation problem. And for me the apotheosis is a good place where you can hear barely any English.
I should also address the issue of breakfast, and that of the 'nightcap'.
Where we were staying the management were delighted to offer you a sumptuous breakfast for 45 Euros per person. Alternatively you could book room only, venture out, and within little time find a cafe where for 11 Euros you get a tartine (bread, butter and jam), pastry, glass of orange juice, and a coffee. I will not do a specific recommendation, but if the New Town is within reach, mosey down to Place Magenta.
The 'nightcap', or digestif, on the way back from dinner, could be a genuine one of those (I am a Grappa man), or another glass of wine. This is fun, although the trick is to suss out somewhere that is not comprised of people finishing food/drinks, or you will have your libation accompanied by the gentle tones of chairs being stacked.
There is one area that I have not mentioned, and which arguably is the soul of Nice. This is the Promenade des Anglais, a seven kilometre 'sea front' running around the bay. The central part of it is wide, enabling walkers and joggers to co-exist comfortably even on a weekend (though in summer a stroll needs to be early morning or in the evening to avoid the heat) - bikes and scooters have a parallel path. I came with kit, and managed a couple of 5k plus runs - utterly joyful, and even better because performative me could put the efforts on Strava.
And very much part of the Promenade des Anglais scene are the beachfront (as in on the beach) cafe restaurants. I have decided that the optimum experience is out of season on a sunny day when there are enough locals plus visitors to make opening worthwhile. The sun is strong enough that you can do it without outdoor jacket, and the food and view is accompanied by gentle Cafe del Mar music. Facial tan time for those like me who hide in the summer from direct sun.
Sitting at your table, watching kids stone-skimming and the occasional hardy swimmer, you are participating in what is perhaps the most enjoyable experience of all, people watching.
People watching can be done at no expense beyond the cost of your drink or meal. From a cafe on the Rue Jean Medecin you can watch real or fake furs parading up and down, noting that the Nicoises have such a small window of cold weather that they rush to get out winter clothes (these being inevitably more stylish then equivalent apparel worn by your average Brit). In the breakfast cafe, a coterie of 60 plus chaps enjoying coffee made up a fluid group, with people drifting in and out. Phones were not to be seen, except for one man displaying a photo of his latest grandson.
I will not pontificate on this last observation, and yes it is anecdotal, but for me it is emblematic of a society that enjoys company, enjoys conversation, and is not infected by the irresistible urge to doom scroll at any opportunity.
For those of you who have not yet tried Nice, I hope I have made the case for a visit.
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The author is a writer, speaker, historian, occasional tour guide, and former Managing Partner of a City law firm.