Walking along the famed Croisette on New Year’s Day, I had to give Cannes dix points for people-watching potential. There were troops of tiny little pooches bouncing along the promenade, most sporting designer dog accessories which would each have cost more than the combined total of my own outfit, and lots of short women in their twilight years drowning in hefty fur coats. A gold-painted street performer stood statue-still, his movie camera pointing out to sea, whilst an artist carved portrait busts out of blocks of wood. May-to-December relationships strolled arm-in-arm as the beach stood bare in the January chill, which, might I add, was still a good ten degrees warmer than London. I couldn’t help but sneak some snaps of the characters of Cannes’ Croisette.