LIFE AT CANNES

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XLV, Issue 10386, 4 May 1925, Page 7

LIFE AT CANNES

Mr T. P. O'Connor, M.P., describes life at Cannes, where he recently spent a holiday, as a hectic time. Ihe hours at Cannes," he writes, are to me somewhat appalling. Your invitation to dinner is for a quarter to 9which means, of course, either y or quarter-past 9. Long before that, however, there has begun what is one of the most prominent features or Cannes life. Not even in America have I ever seen so much dancing. It is in every large hotel, and at almost every hour of the afternoon. I haven't yet seen it at lunchtime, but it is nearly always in full swing at tea-time. The Cannes young lady is ultra-modern; never have I seen such short frocks and such scanty clothing; and of course there isn't a head of hair in the place among the young women that is not bobbed or shingled. lhe muscular young gentlemen who have been on the tennis courts and the goh links during the earlier hours of the day are quit© as enthusiastic dancers as the young ladies; fatigue seems to be a word that does not exist m the bright lexicon of youth; they go on, and on, and on, dancing. " When night comes and tho hours after the late dinner, dancing begins again. But not immediately after dinner. One evening at half-past 11 I mot some young friends as 1 was leaving for home and bod. I found that thev had a table in the great hall which serves at once as the dining room and the dancing room of the Casino. I innocently said that it was setting late. 'Why,' said a young lady to me, ' this is when we start the day !' Tho big room was still deserted —just as it was up to 9 o'clock. One night I tried to dine there at 8 o clock; the whole army of maitres d'hotcl and waiters seemed to be quite put about. They rose to the unexpected and unusual occasion after an awkward pause; my companion and myself were the only two people in the restaurant—in an hour after it was crammed. After the 9 o'clock dinner, as I have mid, there is again a desert in the dining room. At midnight its vivid and multitudinous life starts again, and to the alternate music of an ordinary hand and a jazzs band—a hideov« thing to my ear;; —the floor is filled with dancing couples; dancing, dancing, dancing, time after tinn. time after time, and until all honvs of tho morning. There are occasional intervals of professional dancers, hut thev last For a. short time —the dancers ri-e* 7-ondy at once to take their places."