Chap­ter 22 – An Eng­lish Inva­sion of the Riv­iera begins with a chance devi­a­tion that changed the des­tiny of the French coast. When Lord Brougham unex­pect­ed­ly stopped in Cannes due to trav­el restric­tions, he dis­cov­ered a place over­looked by the tra­di­tion­al Grand Tour. The charm of the Riviera’s sun­shine, sea, and gen­tle cli­mate con­vinced him to set­tle, lead­ing to the con­struc­tion of a vil­la that would serve as the first Eng­lish out­post in the region. His pres­ence quick­ly attract­ed fel­low aris­to­crats who fol­lowed his lead, seek­ing warmth and refine­ment out­side England’s gray win­ters. This ear­ly migra­tion sparked the trans­for­ma­tion of the Riv­iera from a qui­et coast­line to a pres­ti­gious des­ti­na­tion, one lined with opu­lent estates stretch­ing between Mar­seilles and Genoa. Cannes, in par­tic­u­lar, evolved into a sea­son­al play­ground for the Eng­lish upper class, blend­ing British restraint with Mediter­ranean lux­u­ry.

What set the Eng­lish apart was not only their pres­ence but their refusal to assim­i­late ful­ly. Instead of adapt­ing to French life, they recre­at­ed their own ver­sion of Eng­land along the Riviera’s edge. Their cus­toms arrived with them—afternoon tea, Angli­can chapels, and Eng­lish-style gar­dens appeared like foot­prints of a qui­et con­quest. Locals adjust­ed their ser­vices to meet British expec­ta­tions, giv­ing rise to an econ­o­my that catered almost exclu­sive­ly to their vis­i­tors. The Eng­lish didn’t just bring mon­ey; they brought a sys­tem, cul­ture, and way of liv­ing that reshaped the iden­ti­ty of these towns. Their influ­ence was so dom­i­nant that, for a time, Cannes func­tioned more like an Eng­lish resort than a French port. Despite being guests, they sub­tly dic­tat­ed the tone of the place.

Chap­ter 22 – An Eng­lish Inva­sion of the Riv­iera explores this cul­tur­al trans­plan­ta­tion with a tone that is both amused and crit­i­cal. The British, known for their nation­al­ism, were equal­ly known for their inabil­i­ty to leave it behind, even when abroad. Their insis­tence on Eng­lish cui­sine, rit­u­als, and lan­guage often cre­at­ed fric­tion with locals and invit­ed car­i­ca­ture. Yet it also demon­strat­ed a curi­ous con­tra­dic­tion: while famous­ly pri­vate and con­ser­v­a­tive at home, abroad they became bold in reshap­ing for­eign spaces to reflect their own iden­ti­ty. Even their women, crit­i­cized for mas­cu­line dress and less refined demeanor, held firm to their way of being, reject­ing the French ide­al of ele­gance. At evening events, the visu­al con­trast was unmistakable—British women, in dark­er fab­rics and sim­pler sil­hou­ettes, stood in stark oppo­si­tion to the Parisian flair around them. It was a dif­fer­ence of world­view as much as style.

The British expor­ta­tion of their cul­ture was more than fash­ion and tea—it was embed­ded in their build­ings, rou­tines, and dai­ly habits. Vil­las were con­struct­ed not in the light, open-air style of Mediter­ranean homes but in imi­ta­tion of Eng­lish estates, com­plete with fire­places unsuit­ed for the Riv­iera cli­mate. Eng­lish clubs and pri­vate read­ing rooms emerged, allow­ing expats to social­ize in famil­iar fash­ion, avoid­ing the chal­lenge of immer­sion. While oth­er trav­el­ers adapt­ed, the British chose to plant roots that pre­served their dis­tance. This cre­at­ed enclaves where Eng­lish cus­toms thrived, even if dis­con­nect­ed from the place that host­ed them. And though often viewed as cold or con­de­scend­ing by locals, their eco­nom­ic con­tri­bu­tion could not be ignored. Their sea­son­al arrivals meant employ­ment and income for French mer­chants, hote­liers, and domes­tic work­ers.

Chap­ter 22 – An Eng­lish Inva­sion of the Riv­iera also con­trasts the larg­er cul­tur­al per­son­al­i­ties of Eng­land and France. Using the metaphor of Rome and Greece, the author sug­gests that Eng­land, like Rome, com­mands through dom­i­nance, struc­ture, and pow­er, while France, like Greece, excels in grace, intel­lect, and artis­tic refine­ment. This anal­o­gy frames the Eng­lish expan­sion as both a cul­tur­al asser­tion and a loss of sen­si­tiv­i­ty to local bril­liance. While they brought sta­bil­i­ty and influ­ence, they often over­looked the more nuanced con­tri­bu­tions of French cul­ture. The British admired the beau­ty of the Riv­iera, but seemed less inclined to par­tic­i­pate in its exist­ing rhythm. This cre­at­ed a qui­et ten­sion, where mutu­al curios­i­ty was often over­shad­owed by mutu­al mis­un­der­stand­ing.

Mod­ern tourism still reflects the pat­terns estab­lished by this ear­ly Eng­lish pres­ence. The Riv­iera remains a mag­net for trav­el­ers seek­ing ele­gance, sun­shine, and luxury—but the blue­print was draft­ed by 19th-cen­tu­ry Eng­lish set­tlers who rede­fined what for­eign leisure could look like. Their lega­cy con­tin­ues in place names, archi­tec­ture, and local tra­di­tions that per­sist today, woven into the fab­ric of a region once untouched by for­eign lux­u­ry. Though their col­o­niza­tion was not mil­i­tary, it was cultural—subtle, sus­tained, and far-reach­ing. Chap­ter 22 cap­tures this inva­sion not as con­quest but as trans­for­ma­tion, reveal­ing how even leisure can car­ry the weight of nation­al iden­ti­ty. In observ­ing this, the text invites reflec­tion on how trav­el, when dri­ven by sta­tus and com­fort, becomes less about dis­cov­er­ing the world and more about rear­rang­ing it to feel like home.