Living on the French Riviera, and working in luxury real estate, means I regularly find myself chatting with friends, clients and people who often become friends along the way. Some already live here, while others are preparing to make the move, either full-time or part-time. We talk about everything from finding a home and settling into a new community to the little things that make everyday life here so different from what they may have known before.
Recently, two conversations caught my attention. One involved people who were pleasantly surprised by an aspect of their new life, while another couple had experienced something that left them a little taken aback. Nothing particularly dramatic had happened, but both conversations touched on something that doesn’t always get much attention when people are planning a move to the French Riviera: what happens after you arrive, unpack your bags and begin your new life.
Because while much of the conversation surrounding relocation focuses on finding the right property, navigating the paperwork and imagining the lifestyle, there are other adjustments that can come as a surprise. One of them is the sudden popularity you may discover you have among friends, family and, occasionally, people you barely know.
Of course, everyone’s circumstances are different. Some people love having a house full of guests, while others value their privacy and routine. Neither approach is right or wrong. My own experience has certainly taught me that.
When I asked how they were settling in and how their first summer had gone, they told me they were delighted. They were enjoying the slower rhythm of everyday life, gradually getting to know their neighbours and discovering the local markets, shops and other little pleasures that make living here so rewarding.
These are the stories I love hearing. People arrive with an idea of what life on the Riviera might be like, and then, little by little, they begin to experience the reality of it for themselves.
There was, however, another development they had anticipated to some extent. Having shared their excitement about the move with friends and family back home, they were beginning to receive requests from people wanting to visit.
During their property search, they had specifically wanted enough space to accommodate the people closest to them. We had discussed the possibility that, once word got around about their new home and lifestyle, the invitations might begin arriving. It is something worth considering when choosing a property, particularly if you enjoy entertaining.
Happily, they have welcomed the opportunity to share their new surroundings with loved ones. At the same time, they have discovered that a little planning and selectivity can go a long way.
They are learning to balance their enthusiasm for welcoming visitors with their desire to enjoy the life they moved here to create. That isn’t selfish. It is simply part of settling into a new routine and making sure the experience remains enjoyable for everyone.
I was eager to tell everyone about my plans. I was also building my own business, learning to navigate life in another country and trying to establish myself professionally. Yet, from the outside, the move probably looked rather glamorous. After all, I was heading to the French Riviera, a place many people associate with sunshine, beautiful homes, yachts, seaside lunches and an enviable lifestyle.
What could possibly be difficult about that?
I probably should have paid closer attention when people, including some I barely knew, started announcing that they would be coming to visit.
At the time, I was also showing photos of the area where we would be living. We were excited about our new chapter and wanted to share that excitement with others. What I hadn’t fully appreciated was how those photographs might be interpreted by people who had never visited or lived here themselves.
Once I arrived, the messages began arriving in earnest. Friends, acquaintances and friends of friends wanted to know when they could come and stay. Some requests were for a few days, others for several weeks, and a few stretched to several months. The general understanding seemed to be that they could stay with us while we carried on with our usual lives and work. “We won’t get in the way.” Is what we usually told.
I had arrived during the summer, one of the busiest periods of the year for anyone working in the local property and hospitality industries. I was still finding my feet, building my business and trying to establish a sense of normality. Suddenly, I was also expected to think about hosting visitors and helping them make the most of their time here when I still hadn’t finished unpacking.
With close friends and family, I understood the excitement. I would probably have been just as enthusiastic had someone I loved moved somewhere I had always wanted to visit. Some people were wonderfully understanding when I explained that the timing wasn’t right, although there were occasions when my answer wasn’t received quite as graciously as I might have hoped.
The most unexpected requests, however, came from people I barely knew, including individuals who seemed to have discovered the Riviera only after learning that I lived here. Local friends here have told me their own versions of this story as well.
I sometimes wondered whether they had known where the Cote d’Azur was before I moved here.
It was all beginning to feel like I was that kid in school who’s family had the only swimming pool in town.
To explain how quickly things escalated, my former partner eventually decided to have a little fun with the situation. He created an Excel spreadsheet listing the people who wanted to visit, along with their proposed dates and length of stay.
When I saw the total, there were 132 people on the list.
One hundred and thirty-two.
At that point, the spreadsheet was less a social calendar and more a logistical challenge requiring its own department. We eventually had to decline the requests across the board. We were private people for the most part, we were busy establishing our new lives, and accommodating that many visitors simply wasn’t realistic.
Some people were disappointed, and a few were clearly unhappy with us. It was an eye-opening experience, but it also taught me something important: just because you live somewhere people want to visit doesn’t mean your home automatically becomes an extension of their holiday plans.
I have friends who are exceptional hosts. They put Martha Stewart to shame on every level. They genuinely enjoy having people come to stay, showing them their favourite restaurants, taking them to local markets and introducing them to the places they have discovered since moving to the region.
For those who are retired, hosting can fit beautifully into their lifestyle. They may have more flexibility with their schedules, and welcoming friends and family becomes another way to enjoy the life they have worked towards. Many are also keen travellers themselves, so there is a natural exchange of hospitality and experiences.
I particularly enjoy seeing people who have recently settled here take their visitors to a favourite lunch spot or point out a historic building they have learned about. It is lovely to watch someone develop a genuine connection with the region and then share that enthusiasm with others.
Friends who live and work here also manage to host successfully. The common thread seems to be an understanding between host and guest that everyone has their own schedule, commitments and interests. Visitors may be on holiday, but the people they are visiting still have lives to lead.
With a little consideration and mutual respect, it can work wonderfully.
And, of course, there is something special about introducing people to the Riviera. Their visit may encourage them to explore places they would otherwise have missed, discover local businesses and experience a side of the region that goes beyond the familiar holiday postcards.
The key is finding a balance that suits everyone.
I have tried several times since those early years, including welcoming people I had known since I was a teenager. I expected that spending time together in such a beautiful setting would be a wonderful opportunity to reconnect and enjoy each other’s company.
Sometimes, it was. On other occasions, the experience was considerably more challenging than I had anticipated.
People I remembered one way seemed to arrive with an entirely different set of behaviours. As in a whole new personality, even if the WhatsApp message they sent the day before sounded like themselves.
There were occasions involving excessive drinking before they had even stepped through my doorway, extremely inconsiderate behaviour towards others, damaged belongings and expectations that seemed to grow by the day. Some guests appeared to want everything laid on for them without being particularly sure what they actually wanted.
It was difficult to reconcile those experiences with the friendships I thought I knew.
There were moments when I found myself sitting down with guests to check whether everything was all right, offering reassurance when emotions ran high, only to hear at the end of their stay that they had had the most wonderful time and couldn’t wait to return.
I was left wondering whether we had been having the same visit.
Perhaps part of the problem was that I had changed, too. I had once been something of a party boy in my twenties and thirties. Yet, somewhere along the way, I had become the person worrying about whether everyone was all right, what shocking thing they might do in public after a number of drinks, and whether the visit was going to end without another unexpected incident.
Instead of spending our time exploring the Riviera and enjoying each other’s company, I sometimes found myself worrying about what might happen next.
It wasn’t the sort of experience I had imagined when I opened my home.
I’ve also had to acknowledge my own part in the situation. As a host, I can become overly concerned about whether visitors are having a good time day and night. I want them to see the best of the region, experience its history and culture, discover wonderful restaurants and leave feeling they have made the most of their stay.
The problem is that the Riviera is an enormous place to explore, and there is always something else to see or do. I can put pressure on myself to deliver an experience that no single person could reasonably be expected to provide.
Eventually, I realised that being a good friend and being a good host are not necessarily the same thing. I can care deeply about people and still recognise that having them stay in my home isn’t always the best arrangement for either of us.
These days, I often find that visits work better when people arrange their own accommodation. We can still meet for lunch, explore somewhere together, enjoy an evening out or spend a day discovering a new corner of the Riviera. Everyone has their own space, and spending time together becomes something to look forward to rather than a source of pressure.
For me, that arrangement can make all the difference.
Suddenly, ordinary considerations seem to fall away. It’s a free for all. Work schedules, household routines, personal boundaries and the fact that the people they are visiting might have an appointment the following morning can become secondary to the excitement of being on holiday.
Naturally, this doesn’t describe everyone, and most visitors are perfectly considerate. But anyone who has lived here long enough will probably have a story or two about a guest who seems to believe that arriving on the Riviera means the holiday begins for everyone in the household, and you might even end up having to pay for their good time too in more ways than one.
It can be amusing, occasionally exasperating, and sometimes a useful reminder that people can have very different ideas about what a visit should involve.
For the visitor, it may be a long-awaited escape from everyday life. For the resident, Tuesday might simply be Tuesday, with work to do, errands to run and responsibilities that don’t disappear just because the Mediterranean is sparkling outside.
That difference in perspective is worth remembering on both sides.
If you’re visiting someone who lives here, ask what works for them rather than assuming they will be available to entertain you throughout your stay. And if you’re the person who has moved here, it is perfectly reasonable to be clear about your availability, your home and the kind of visit you can comfortably accommodate.
A little communication before anyone books their flights can prevent a great deal of awkwardness later.
You may be moving here for a quieter lifestyle, more time outdoors, a change of pace, retirement or simply the opportunity to live somewhere you have loved for years. You may also be looking forward to sharing your new surroundings with the people who matter to you.
All of those things can coexist, but it helps to think about what you want your home life to look like before the invitations begin arriving.
If having friends and family stay is important to you, consider whether you want a spare bedroom, a separate guest area or perhaps a property with enough space to accommodate visitors without sacrificing your privacy. If you expect to continue working full-time, think about how much time you can realistically set aside for guests, particularly during the busy summer months.
And remember that you don’t have to host everyone who wants to visit. You can welcome people at certain times of the year, suggest a nearby hotel or holiday rental, or simply explain that your schedule doesn’t allow for overnight guests.
You can also change your mind. What suited you in the first year may not suit you five years later, once you have established a business, developed a routine or discovered that you would rather spend your weekends exploring France than organising the next round of visitors.
None of this means you have become unwelcoming or lost your enthusiasm for the place you call home. It means you are building a life here, rather than simply extending a holiday.
And if you are someone who loves hosting, embrace it. There is real pleasure in sharing your favourite places, introducing people to local traditions and watching them fall in love with the Riviera themselves. Just make sure that the arrangement works for you, too.
I have enormous respect for those who open their homes and make visitors feel welcome. I also have a better understanding of why some residents prefer to keep their home life separate from their social life.
Living somewhere beautiful doesn’t mean you must always be available to share it. Nor does it mean that every visit has to become a guided tour, a restaurant itinerary or a week of endless entertaining.
The French Riviera is a wonderful place to welcome people, but it is also a place to establish routines, build friendships, work, discover local culture and enjoy the simple pleasures of everyday life. Sometimes that means taking visitors to a favourite seaside restaurant. Sometimes it means spending a quiet weekend at home.
And sometimes, it means meeting friends for lunch while everyone stays in their own accommodation.
The important thing is that we all experience this region differently, and those differences are part of what makes living here so interesting.
When people talk about relocating to the French Riviera, they understandably focus on the property, the climate, the lifestyle and the practicalities of making the move. Yet there are smaller adjustments that only become apparent once you begin living here.
The arrival of enthusiastic visitors is one of them.
So, if you’re planning your move, by all means dream about the beautiful home, the sunny terraces and the long lunches. Just give a little thought to the spare bedroom, too.
You may find it becomes the most socially in-demand room in the house.
And if you’re already living here, I’d be curious to hear your experiences. Are you the friend who loves opening the door to visitors, or have you discovered that a little advance planning, a few gentle boundaries and a nearby hotel can be the secret to keeping everyone happy?
After all, there is plenty of room on the French Riviera for every kind of lifestyle. We just don’t all have to live it in exactly the same way.
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