Casa del Mare: A Belle Époque Jewel and the Remarkable People Who Shaped It

 

To me, one of the most captivating aspects of living on the Côte d’Azur is that on any given day, practically no matter where you are, you may be passing one of the most elegant, architecturally balanced estates with the most intriguing histories imaginable.

Behind walls, gardens and carefully positioned gates are houses that have witnessed more than a century of wealth, ambition, romance, politics, art and celebrity, their histories often largely invisible to the people walking past them.

One that I have watched change over the decades, and that now finally feels more settled in place, is located in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin near Monaco.

Casa del Mare is strongly defined yet still intriguingly private, tucked behind the Plage du Buse at the Baie de Roquebrune. It is one of those properties that can easily be overlooked if you are simply walking along the coast, yet once you know something of its history, it becomes almost impossible to look at it in quite the same way again.

Over a decade ago, walking past the villa from almost any angle, the gardens surrounding it were not as full or as carefully maintained, offering a most unique vantage point into the property.

The newest owners have now altered all of that, and from the upper walking paths behind the villa, near the Cap-Roquebrune railway station, it is no longer possible to obtain the same views. From the public beach, however, there are still some wonderful vantage points.

While swimming or lounging on the sand, it is still possible to catch glimpses of the property from days gone by, while being reminded of that unmistakable feeling that this is truly the French Riviera.

A Villa Born in the Belle Époque

Casa del Mare belongs to a remarkable generation of Riviera villas created during the great transformation of the Côte d’Azur at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth centuries.

The Riviera was becoming an international destination for Britain’s aristocracy, European royalty, industrialists, financiers and wealthy travellers seeking the combination of Mediterranean climate, spectacular scenery and the social opportunities offered by Monte-Carlo, Menton, Cannes and the rapidly developing resort towns.

The railway had fundamentally changed the region. What had once been a relatively remote Mediterranean landscape was becoming accessible to the wealthy of northern Europe, and enormous private estates began appearing along the coastline.

Casa del Mare was very much a product of this extraordinary moment.

The land was acquired by Kate Pawle in 1903, who commissioned the Danish-born architect Hans-Georg Tersling to design the villa. The surviving architectural record provides an unusually precise detail: the property changed hands while construction was still underway. On 26 October 1904, it was purchased by Bessie O’Hagan, who completed the project.

The villa dates from approximately 1904–1905.

Tersling was one of the most important architects working on the Riviera during the Belle Époque. His work can still be found throughout the region, including some of the area’s most celebrated buildings. Among them are the Grand Hôtel du Cap-Martin and Villa Cyrnos, built for the former Empress Eugénie.

Casa del Mare therefore wasn’t simply another large villa commissioned by a wealthy visitor. It was created by one of the architects who helped define the architectural character of the Côte d’Azur itself.

Architecture Designed for the Mediterranean

Casa del Mare is an elegant expression of Belle Époque eclecticism, incorporating French classical influences, Louis XVI references and Mediterranean architectural traditions.

 

The central rotunda and loggia give the building its distinctive character, while a monumental staircase connects the house to its extensive gardens. The relationship between the building, gardens and sea is fundamental to the design.

This was the era when a Riviera villa was not merely a house.

It was an estate.

The gardens, terraces, views, carriage approaches, service areas and relationship with the sea were all part of the experience. The architecture was designed to be approached, entered, experienced and viewed from different points across the property.

That is particularly evident at Casa del Mare. Its position above the Baie de Roquebrune and the Plage du Buse was not incidental. The villa was designed to exploit the Mediterranean landscape while simultaneously creating a private world within it.

And that is perhaps why it remains so captivating more than a century later.

Henry Osborne O’Hagan and the World of British Industrial Wealth

The villa’s first major owner was Henry Osborne O’Hagan, a prominent British industrialist and financier.

O’Hagan was deeply involved in the British cement industry and was one of the figures behind the creation of the Associated Portland Cement Manufacturers in 1900, an enormous industrial consolidation that brought numerous cement companies together.

His presence on the Riviera illustrates something important about the society that created these estates.

The people building enormous villas along Cap Martin were not necessarily hereditary aristocrats. Increasingly they were the new industrial and financial elite whose fortunes had been created by the extraordinary expansion of modern capitalism.

Casa del Mare was therefore a physical expression of a new kind of wealth.

O’Hagan used the villa as a place for entertaining, and it reportedly became a significant social and musical gathering place. Concerts were held for audiences of more than 200 people, with musicians including the pianist Walter Morse Rummel associated with these events.

It is easy to imagine the scene: guests arriving at the great estate, the Mediterranean below them, musicians performing in the villa and gardens filled with the international society that descended upon the Côte d’Azur each winter.

The villa was already becoming much more than a private residence.

It was becoming a stage.

A Brief Afterlife as a Refuge for War Nurses

The history of Casa del Mare also contains a quieter and rather touching episode.

Between November 1918 and April 1919, shortly after the First World War, the villa was reportedly rented by a woman identified as Miss Angas, who used it to provide a holiday for British nurses who had served during the war.

The contrast is striking.

A house created to embody Belle Époque privilege and industrial wealth was, in the aftermath of one of Europe’s most devastating conflicts, being used as a place of rest for women who had spent years caring for wounded soldiers.

It is precisely these unexpected details that make the history of old Riviera estates so compelling. Their stories are not simply about the rich people who owned them.

They are also about the people who passed through them.

Guido Donegani and the Italian Industrial Empire

Following O’Hagan’s death in 1930, Casa del Mare entered another remarkable chapter.

It became associated with Guido Donegani, one of the most powerful industrialists in Italy and the driving force behind Montecatini, one of the country’s great industrial enterprises.

If O’Hagan represented the rise of British industrial capitalism, Donegani represented the emergence of modern Italian industrial power.

But Donegani brought something else to Casa del Mare: an appreciation for extraordinary design.

The villa became connected with the work of Jacques-Émile Ruhlmann, one of the greatest French furniture designers and decorators of the Art Deco period.

Surviving Ruhlmann documentation contains drawings and material relating specifically to Casa del Mare. Furniture, bedrooms, boudoirs, woodwork, fireplaces and upholstery were among the elements involved in the work commissioned for the villa.

This is an extraordinary detail in the property’s history.

Casa del Mare wasn’t simply an architecturally important Belle Époque house. During the Donegani period, its interiors were being transformed with the work of one of the most celebrated designers of twentieth-century France.

The Ruhlmann connection also raises fascinating questions about what remains of those interiors today, where individual pieces may have ended up and whether further documentation could reconstruct the appearance of the villa during the 1930s.

From Industry to Cinema

After the Second World War, the Côte d’Azur was entering another era.

The aristocratic winter season was changing. International tourism was expanding, Cannes was becoming increasingly associated with cinema, and a new generation of actors, producers and artists were making the Riviera their playground.

Casa del Mare followed that transformation.

In 1950, scenes from My Daughter Joy were filmed at the property, with Edward G. Robinson among the stars.

Five years later, another extraordinary chapter began when the villa was acquired by Italian film producer Dino De Laurentiis.

De Laurentiis was one of the great figures of postwar Italian cinema, while his wife, Silvana Mangano, was one of Italy’s most celebrated actresses.

The villa became a retreat for the De Laurentiis family and a gathering place for people from the extraordinary world of Italian cinema.

The great Riviera photographer Edward Quinn photographed the people around Casa del Mare, capturing an extraordinary social world that included figures such as Mangano, Gina Lollobrigida, Federico Fellini and Giulietta Masina.

This was the Riviera of postwar cinema: glamorous, international, slightly decadent and populated by people who would go on to define European film.

Casa del Mare had once been the home of British industrial wealth.

Now it was part of the mythology of Italian cinema.

From Hollywood and Rome to International Finance

The villa subsequently entered another world of wealth through its association with Akram Ojjeh, the Saudi businessman and founder of Techniques d’Avant Garde.

Ojjeh was one of the most prominent Middle Eastern businessmen operating in Europe during the latter decades of the twentieth century. His family would later become closely associated with international business, luxury assets and Formula One through his son Mansour Ojjeh and McLaren.

Once again, Casa del Mare reflected the changing nature of wealth on the Riviera.

The Belle Époque British industrialists had given way to Italian industrialists. The Italian industrialists had given way to international cinema. And now the great Riviera villas were increasingly becoming possessions of a global elite whose fortunes crossed continents.

The villa had survived because the world around it kept changing.

A Word About the Mobutu Story

There is an important distinction to make here because the history of Casa del Mare has become confused with that of another spectacular Tersling villa on Cap Martin.

Villa Del Mare, also known as Villa Maria Irina, is a different property.

That enormous estate is associated with Mobutu Sese Seko, and subsequently with Russian and international business interests. It has been the subject of considerable recent French legal and investigative attention.

The confusion is understandable. Both properties are associated with Hans-Georg Tersling, both date from the same extraordinary period and both have been described at various times using variations of the name “Villa Del Mare.”

But they are not the same house.

For Casa del Mare, the better-established historical sequence runs through Kate Pawle, Bessie O’Hagan and the O’Hagan family, Guido Donegani, Dino De Laurentiis and Silvana Mangano, and subsequently Akram Ojjeh, with some later ownership transfers requiring further archival research.

That distinction is particularly important because it prevents the fascinating history of one villa from being inadvertently combined with the quite different history of another.

A Changing View

For me, however, Casa del Mare’s history is only part of what makes the property fascinating.

There is something particularly compelling about seeing a building evolve over the course of decades while the landscape around it changes.

When I first became familiar with the villa more than a decade ago, the gardens were considerably less dense and less manicured. From the walking paths above the property, particularly around the area of the Cap-Roquebrune railway station, it was possible to obtain glimpses that are now largely gone.

The newer landscaping has restored a considerable degree of privacy. And it’s blatantly obvious to locals that updates have been made throughout the estate since these photos posted were taken.

From above, the villa is now much more concealed.

But the sea has not changed.

From the Plage du Buse there are still places where the house can be glimpsed through the vegetation, and there is something wonderfully appropriate about experiencing it that way.

You can be swimming in the Mediterranean, lying on one of the Riviera’s most beautiful beaches, and looking up to see a glimpse of a villa that has witnessed more than 120 years of history.

You are looking at the same coastline that attracted the British industrialists of the Belle Époque.

The same Mediterranean that looked out over O’Hagan’s parties.

The same landscape that surrounded Donegani’s Ruhlmann interiors.

The same sea that provided the backdrop for De Laurentiis, Mangano and the extraordinary circle of Italian cinema.

And, eventually, the same view that continues to make these properties among the most coveted real estate on the planet.

The Riviera Hidden in Plain Sight

This is what I find most fascinating about living on the Côte d’Azur.

History here is rarely confined to museums.

It is embedded in the landscape.

It is in the villas behind walls, the grand hotels, the railway stations, the old gardens, the staircases descending toward the sea and the buildings that most people pass without ever knowing what happened inside them.

Casa del Mare is a perfect example.

It has survived the collapse of the Belle Époque, two world wars, the transformation of European society, the rise and fall of industrial empires, the golden age of Italian cinema and the arrival of a truly global class of wealth.

Yet it remains there above the Plage du Buse, remarkably poised over the Mediterranean.

The people have changed.

The fortunes have changed.

The fashions have changed.

Even the gardens have changed.

But the villa remains.

And perhaps that is the most captivating aspect of all.

On the Côte d’Azur, you can quite literally walk past history without knowing it is there. Sometimes all it takes is a glimpse through the trees, a view from the beach or a forgotten name on an old photograph to reveal that the elegant house above you has been quietly watching the Riviera change for more than a century.

Side note: Casa del Mare is a private property that is exceptionally well secured and protected from every angle. Please respect the privacy of the property and do not attempt to trespass. The thrill of the property can still be felt just by basking in its presence. The colored images in this article date from both 2011 and 2016. 

Nice Takes Another Step Into the Future as iPhone Tap-and-Go Returns to Buses and Trams

 

For anyone who regularly uses public transportation in Nice and the surrounding area, the return of enhanced iPhone NFC functionality on the Lignes d’Azur network this September may initially sound like a relatively minor technological upgrade.

It isn’t.

The change represents another step in the transformation of public transportation across the Côte d’Azur into a system that is increasingly designed around the smartphone rather than the traditional paper ticket, plastic transport card or ticket machine.

Lignes d’Azur has already allowed passengers to purchase and store tickets on an iPhone through its mobile ticketing system. But the experience has not always been as seamless as passengers might expect from a modern contactless transport network.

That is what makes the restoration of Apple’s NFC functionality particularly interesting.

Soon the iPhone tap-and-go functionality will return in September 2026 following negotiations with Apple. The technology had been suspended in July 2024, meaning that the relationship between Apple’s NFC technology and the local transport network has had something of a complicated history.

But there is an important distinction that passengers should understand.

This isn’t simply a case of Nice suddenly discovering that an iPhone can be used on a bus.

iPhones can already be used within the Lignes d’Azur mobile ticketing ecosystem. Passengers can purchase tickets through the appropriate application and use their phone to validate those tickets against the NFC readers installed on buses and trams.

The difference is the degree of integration and simplicity.

Instead of thinking about the iPhone merely as a place where a digital ticket happens to be stored, the direction of travel is toward making the device itself function much more naturally as the passenger’s transport credential.

That distinction may sound technical, but anyone who has ever stood at a Nice tram stop trying to work out which ticket they need will understand why it matters.

From Ticket Machines to Your Phone

Public transportation in Nice has become considerably more sophisticated over the past several years.

The old model was straightforward: find a machine, select a ticket, pay, take the ticket and validate it.

Then came rechargeable transport cards (which can still be used).

Then mobile ticketing.

Now the smartphone is increasingly becoming the ticket.

For residents, this is convenient. For tourists, it could be transformative.

Nice welcomes millions of visitors every year, many of whom arrive with little understanding of the local transportation system. A visitor arriving at Nice Côte d’Azur Airport may simply want to get onto a tram or bus without having to decipher the local fare structure or locate a ticket machine.

The smartphone offers a much more intuitive alternative.

And because international visitors are already accustomed to using Apple Pay and their phones for everything from hotel reservations to restaurant payments, asking them to use their phone for public transportation requires virtually no new technological behaviour.

But Don’t Confuse This With London-Style Contactless

There is one important caveat.

The return of iPhone NFC functionality does not necessarily mean that Nice is adopting a completely open-loop system like London’s, where a passenger can simply tap a bank card or Apple Pay device and the transport network automatically calculates the appropriate fare.

Lignes d’Azur continues to operate its own ticketing structure, including individual tickets, multi-trip products, day passes, subscriptions and other fares.

The iPhone is therefore increasingly functioning as the digital carrier of the transport ticket, rather than simply being a credit card that gets charged every time someone boards a bus.

That distinction is important because the phrase “tap and go” can make the system sound more comprehensive than it actually is.

Nevertheless, from the passenger’s perspective, the experience is becoming remarkably close.

Buy the appropriate ticket.

Put it on your phone.

Walk onto the bus or tram.

Hold the phone near the validator.

And go.

Apple Watch Makes It Even More Convenient

Perhaps one of the more interesting aspects of the evolving system is that the experience isn’t limited to the iPhone.

Lignes d’Azur’s current documentation also describes using an Apple Watch to validate a ticket.

That potentially removes another layer of friction.

Instead of pulling a phone out of a pocket or handbag, unlocking it and finding the appropriate application, a passenger can potentially simply present their watch to the validator.

For people who use public transportation every day, those few seconds may seem insignificant.

Multiply those seconds by hundreds of journeys, however, and the advantage becomes obvious.

And on a crowded Nice tram during the summer season, anything that makes boarding faster is a good thing.

Why It Matters Particularly In Nice

There is another reason this development makes sense for the Côte d’Azur.

Nice isn’t simply a city with a local commuter population.

It is an international tourism destination.

Passengers using Lignes d’Azur can include residents commuting to work, students travelling to university, retirees heading into town, tourists staying for a few days, cruise passengers spending several hours in the city and international visitors travelling between Nice, the airport and surrounding communities.

A modern transportation system therefore needs to accommodate people who may have absolutely no familiarity with the local ticketing system.

Smartphone-based ticketing is one way of eliminating that barrier.

It also reduces dependence on physical ticket distribution and makes the entire transportation network feel more connected to the way people already live their lives.

There Is A Practical Benefit For Fare Enforcement Too

The technology also has implications beyond convenience.

Every passenger still needs a valid ticket and must properly validate it. Making the purchasing and validation process easier can reduce one of the excuses often associated with fare evasion: that obtaining or understanding a ticket was difficult.

The easier it becomes to purchase a legitimate ticket, the harder it becomes to argue that the system itself created an unnecessary barrier.

For Lignes d’Azur, that potentially means a more efficient validation process and better control over fare compliance.

For passengers, it means fewer excuses for having to stand around at a ticket machine while a tram is waiting.

The Bigger Picture

What is happening in Nice is part of a much broader transformation in public transportation.

The traditional concept of a “ticket” is slowly disappearing.

First it was a piece of paper.

Then a plastic card.

Now it is increasingly a digital credential sitting inside a smartphone or smartwatch.

And the Côte d’Azur is moving in that direction too.

The September 2026 return of enhanced iPhone NFC functionality is therefore more than a small technological footnote. It is another indication that Lignes d’Azur is trying to make public transportation more intuitive, particularly for a population that increasingly expects to be able to use a smartphone for almost everything.

For residents, it should make everyday journeys easier.

For visitors, it could make navigating Nice considerably less intimidating.

And for a city that wants its public transportation system to work efficiently for both locals and the millions of people who pass through the Côte d’Azur every year, making the smartphone the ticket is probably less a technological novelty than an inevitable next step.

The days of desperately searching for a handful of coins to get onto a Nice bus may finally be heading toward the history books.

Bathhouse Babylon: A Book That Took on a Life of Its Own

As we near the end of the summer months, I’m not sure whether it’s the heat, the sense of freedom that seems to come with this time of year, or simply the fact that people are on vacation and have a little more time on their hands. Whatever the reason, there has been a rather large and unexpected uptick in sales of my book, Bathhouse Babylon – Full Release.

 

The book actually came out of the Covid-19 lockdown period. I’m the sort of person who likes to keep busy, and during that strange period of being stuck at home, I found myself thinking about my more than decade-long career working in the gay sauna world. People had often told me that I should write a book about my experiences managing those establishments since I had so many unusual stories, so I finally decided to pull out the diaries I had kept during those years and start writing.

 

I wanted to tell the story from the inside.

There have been books written by people who attended gay saunas as patrons, often focusing on their experiences and, understandably, their sexual adventures. There is certainly plenty of sex mentioned in Bathhouse Babylon, but I wanted to explore something much broader: what actually goes on behind the scenes of these businesses and what it takes to operate one.

 

The book begins with my experience as a part-time employee and follows my surprisingly rapid rise into management. From there, it delves into the realities of running a bathhouse: the finances, employees and their often fascinating stories, the expectations of patrons, the involvement of governments and tax authorities, the building of these businesses from scratch, the demands and expectations of owners, the drug and alcohol scene, addictions, and the sometimes complicated relationship these businesses have with the LGBTQ+ communities they serve.

 

I also wanted to put some history around these establishments and explore their broader importance for other generations, including the sociology, culture and communities that developed around them. There is obviously plenty of sex—this is a book about gay saunas, after all—but sex is only one part of a much larger story.

 

Since the book was published, the amount of publicity it has received around the world has been both surprising and genuinely delightful. Over the years, it has led me to connect with writers, journalists and editors who occasionally reach out to discuss a story involving gay saunas or simply ask for a quote or some background on the subject.

 

I left the bathhouse world a long time ago, but the experience taught me a tremendous amount about business, management and, perhaps most importantly, people.

 

Before publishing the book, I did wonder whether being so open about that part of my life might somehow affect my work in luxury real estate and my life here on the Côte d’Azur. As it turned out, quite the opposite happened. The response has been overwhelmingly positive, and the book has opened considerably more doors than I ever expected. What I initially worried might create problems has instead created opportunities.

 

There is an old saying that you never really know where a book will go. Once it is published, it takes on a life of its own. I rarely pay attention to the sales anymore until the notifications of late signalled something more was going on, so I’m always amused when I discover that Bathhouse Babylon is still making the rounds years after its publication.

 

Social media has certainly helped. Seeing people discussing the book on platforms such as X, Instagram and Bluesky, and having readers reach out to chat about it, is something I never really anticipated when I was sitting at home during lockdown pulling together stories from old diaries.

 

Who knew?

 

If you’re interested in the book or the ebook, Bathhouse Babylon – Full Release is currently available through Amazon. Apparently, copies have also made their way into a number of libraries across the United States, including in places such as Chicago and New York. And, of course, there is always the possibility of finding a used copy online or tucked away in a bookstore somewhere.

 

It’s a big book, but there’s a lot packed into it—and, I like to think, quite a bit of bang for your buck.

From Horse-Drawn Streetcars to the Tramways of Tomorrow: The Remarkable History of Nice and the Côte d’Azur on Rails

 

In the distance, almost inaudible beneath the whisper of the Mediterranean wind, comes the gentle sound of a tram approaching. For a moment, you could almost imagine yourself standing on a street in Nice more than a century ago, waiting beneath the afternoon sun as a tram rounds the corner. Its polished body catches the light, passengers sit on wooden benches, the driver watches the road ahead and there is the gentle rhythm of wheels against rails and the murmur of conversation. The tram has arrived.

Today, Nice is once again a city of trams. Modern, quiet, accessible and increasingly ambitious, the network has become one of the defining elements of everyday life on the Côte d’Azur. But today’s sleek Alstom Citadis vehicles are not the beginning of the story. They are, in many ways, the continuation of a story that began nearly 150 years ago.

When Nice First Discovered The Tram

The story begins in the late nineteenth century, when Nice was transforming itself from a Mediterranean city into one of Europe’s great winter resorts. The railway had already changed everything. The first train from Paris reached Nice in 1864, and by 1869 the railway had reached Monaco, with the line extended to Menton and then Ventimiglia. The railway was opening the Riviera to wealthy visitors, encouraging the construction of grand hotels, villas and new boulevards.

But getting people around Nice itself was another matter.

In 1878, horse-drawn streetcars appeared. These early chemins de fer américains ran on rails and represented a remarkable technological leap for the city. What today seems almost impossibly slow was then modernity itself. A tram was not merely transportation. It was an event.

Passengers climbed aboard, greeted neighbours, exchanged news and watched Nice unfold outside the windows. Children waited beside the road for the familiar sound of the wheels and the driver’s bell. For many residents, the tram became part of the rhythm of everyday life. The city was growing, and the tram was growing with it.

Electricity Changes Everything

The real transformation came around the turn of the century. The horse disappeared, electricity arrived, and electric traction transformed what was possible, allowing the tramway to move beyond the immediate streets of Nice and into the wider landscape of the Riviera.

The Tramways de Nice et du Littoral became the backbone of an extraordinary network. The modern electric network was formally born in 1900, when the first TNL line to Cimiez opened on 13 January. Within a remarkably short period, additional routes connected Nice with Villefranche-sur-Mer, Saint-Laurent-du-Var, Cagnes-sur-Mer, Contes and Beaulieu.

And then the tram went even farther.

 

In 1903, a coastal route linked Nice with Monaco and subsequently Menton, running along the spectacular Riviera coastline. At the beginning of the twentieth century, it was possible to travel by tram from Nice through Villefranche and Beaulieu to Monaco and on to Menton.

 

Imagine that journey. There were no motorways, no traffic jams and no tunnels carrying streams of cars beneath the mountains. The Riviera was experienced at the speed of the tram. The sea would appear through the windows, villas and gardens would slide slowly past, and the cliffs, harbours and little coastal towns would reveal themselves almost theatrically. The journey was part of the destination.

A Tramway Empire Stretching Into The Mountains

The extraordinary thing about the historic tram system is that it was not simply a Nice city network. The rails penetrated deep into the Alpes-Maritimes.

Beginning in the early twentieth century, the Tramways des Alpes-Maritimes were created to connect isolated communities in the mountains with the coast and the growing commercial centre of Nice. Lines reached towards Saint-Martin-Vésubie, Saint-Sauveur-de-Tinée, Guillaumes, Roquestéron, Grasse, Vence and other communities.

The Department of the Alpes-Maritimes notes that electric tramway lines were specifically developed from Nice to serve the Paillon, Var and Vésubie valleys. By 1910, the tramway had reached Saint-Martin-Vésubie via Plan-du-Var, with the journey taking around three hours and fifteen minutes.

This was infrastructure as social transformation. Villages that had been relatively isolated suddenly had a connection to the coast. Farmers could move goods, workers could travel, merchants could access larger markets and residents of the valleys could reach Nice more easily. The rails were not simply carrying passengers; they were carrying opportunity.

Some of the engineering was extraordinary. The Guillaumes line, for example, climbed through the dramatic Daluis landscape, including a succession of tunnels through the gorge before crossing the Var on the famous Pont de la Mariée. The journey through the mountains was not simply transportation but an experience in itself.

It was an astonishing network to have existed in a landscape that today can still feel remote.

The Riviera Was Once Connected By Tram

The scale of the historic system is easy to underestimate. The TNL network alone included an urban network in Nice, a coastal network and connections towards Monaco. Historical railway records put the electrified TNL system at approximately 84 kilometres, including about 51 kilometres of coastal routes. 

 

Nice was effectively the center of a web of rails.

Place Masséna was the heart of the urban network, with multiple lines converging there. By 1901, eight lines had been established in Nice, and the system continued expanding. Even the way passengers identified the trams reveals something fascinating about the city of the period. The vehicles did not necessarily rely on today’s sophisticated electronic displays. Instead, routes were identified using coloured square signs and symbols, including circles and bars, helping even people who could not read identify their tram.

The tram was democratic technology. It belonged to everyone.

When The Automobile Won

But the twentieth century brought a new idea of modernity: the automobile.

As elsewhere in France, roads increasingly became designed around cars. Buses were considered more flexible, while tram tracks were increasingly regarded as obstacles to traffic. The irony is difficult to miss today. The tram had once been the symbol of progress, but progress was redefined as the automobile.

The historic network began disappearing. Some routes were converted to buses during the 1920s, and the coastal tramways linking Nice, Monaco and Menton disappeared in the early 1930s. The mountain branches suffered the same fate, disappearing progressively as road transport expanded.

The last historic Nice tramway finally disappeared in 1953.

The rails were removed, the overhead wires vanished and the tram became a memory preserved in postcards, photographs and family stories. For more than half a century, Nice would become increasingly dependent on buses and private automobiles.

When Nice Changed Its Mind

By the late twentieth century, however, the automobile had created its own problem: traffic, congestion, pollution and a city increasingly difficult to navigate.

Nice had begun to rediscover something that earlier generations had understood instinctively: a successful city needs transportation systems capable of moving large numbers of people efficiently without requiring every person to own or use a car.

An earlier proposal for a metro was ultimately abandoned because of its cost. In 1996, the city decided to abandon the older metro concept in favour of a tramway solution, and in 1998 the municipal council formally approved the modern tram project following public consultation.

Construction began in 2003.

On 24 November 2007, after an absence of more than half a century, the tram returned to Nice.

The return was about much more than nostalgia. The new Line 1 represented a fundamental change in the way Nice approached urban transportation. Instead of designing the city around the automobile, the city was once again giving priority to high-capacity public transport.

The Rebirth Of The Nice Tramway

The first modern line was Line 1, running north-south through the city. The new tramway was radically different from its ancestor. There were no horses and no wooden streetcars, but modern low-floor trams, dedicated infrastructure, accessible stations and an increasingly integrated public transport network.

The response was immediate. Passenger numbers rose rapidly after opening, and the frequency was progressively increased. The success of Line 1 demonstrated that Nice residents were prepared to leave their cars behind when public transportation was frequent, reliable and convenient.

The tram was no longer a nostalgic return to the past. It was becoming the backbone of Nice’s future.

Line 2: Taking The Tram Underground

The next great transformation was Line 2. Rather than simply reproducing the surface network, Nice built something much more ambitious: a tramway that disappears beneath the city centre.

Line 2 created an east-west spine linking the airport with central Nice and Port Lympia. Approximately 3.2 kilometres of the 9.2-kilometre line are underground.

For visitors, the significance is enormous. Arriving at Nice Côte d’Azur Airport no longer means automatically finding a taxi or navigating a bus through traffic. The tram takes passengers directly into the city, with Line 2 serving both Terminal 1 and Terminal 2 before continuing towards Port Lympia.

It has fundamentally changed the arrival experience on the Riviera. A visitor can step off an aircraft and, within minutes, be travelling through the city by tram. For residents, the line provides something even more important: a reliable east-west alternative to increasingly congested roads.

The airport connection has also helped reinforce Nice’s position as one of Europe’s most accessible Mediterranean destinations. Few major tourist cities can offer such a direct and relatively inexpensive connection between their principal airport and the urban centre.

Line 3 And The Transformation Of The Var Plain

Line 3 extended the tramway westward towards Saint-Isidore, serving the rapidly developing Plaine du Var.

The significance of this cannot be separated from Nice’s broader urban development. The western side of Nice has undergone enormous change, with the airport, business districts, Grand Arénas, the Allianz Riviera and expanding residential and commercial areas creating a very different urban geography from the Nice of the twentieth century.

The tram has become one of the mechanisms connecting those new districts to the historic centre.

And the network continues to evolve.

Since January 2025, the operational structure has been reorganised so that Line 2 operates between Port Lympia and the airport, while Line 3 runs from Saint-Isidore through the centre to Port Lympia. A new Line B provides the airport–CADAM connection and preserves the connection to the administrative centre.

The tram network is no longer simply a collection of separate lines. It is becoming a genuine network.

Nice In 2026: The Tram Has Become Part Of Everyday Life

Today, Lignes d’Azur operates four tram lines: Line 1, Line 2, Line 3 and Line B. Line 1 covers approximately 9.2 kilometres between Henri Sappia and Hôpital Pasteur. Line 2 covers 9.2 kilometres between Aéroport Terminal 2 and Port Lympia, including its underground central section. Line 3 stretches 12.3 kilometres from Saint-Isidore to Port Lympia, while Line B covers the three-kilometre airport–CADAM connection.

The tram is now supported by a much broader system of buses, park-and-ride facilities and cycling infrastructure. Lignes d’Azur currently operates an extensive urban network, with four tram lines and numerous Parcazur park-and-ride facilities designed to encourage motorists to leave their cars outside the centre and continue by public transport.

The transformation is particularly visible at the airport. For a city whose economy depends heavily on tourism, the ability to move visitors from the airport into the centre, towards the Port and onward through the metropolitan area is enormously important.

The tram has become part of Nice’s welcome mat.

Line 4: Extending The Tramway Along The Western Côte d’Azur

Perhaps the most important next chapter is already taking shape with Line 4, which will extend the tramway beyond Nice towards Saint-Laurent-du-Var and Cagnes-sur-Mer.

The planned line will be approximately 7.1 kilometres long, with 18 stations, including 14 new stations. It is expected to connect Nice Saint-Augustin/Grand Arénas with central Cagnes-sur-Mer, passing through Saint-Laurent-du-Var. The planned journey time is approximately 23 minutes, with trams expected roughly every eight minutes.

This is particularly significant because Cagnes-sur-Mer and Saint-Laurent-du-Var are among the most populous communities of the wider Nice metropolitan area.

The project is also about considerably more than rails. The plans include substantial public-space improvements, pedestrian facilities, cycling infrastructure, vegetation and park-and-ride facilities. The metropolitan authority says approximately 250,000 square metres of public space will be requalified, while the project includes extensive tree planting and preservation.

And in July 2026, there was an important legal development: the Administrative Tribunal of Nice rejected a challenge from local residents against the declaration of public utility for Line 4, clearing an important legal obstacle to the project.

The current timetable anticipates preparatory works in 2026, major infrastructure and track works from 2027, an initial opening towards Cagnes-sur-Mer’s Val Fleuri area around 2030, and completion to central Cagnes-sur-Mer and the Parc des Sports terminus by the end of 2031.

For the western Côte d’Azur, this could be transformative.

And Then There Is Line 5

If Line 4 represents the tramway’s expansion westward, Line 5 represents its expansion eastward into the Paillon valley.

The proposed Line 5 will connect Nice with Saint-André-de-la-Roche, La Trinité and Drap. The planned route is approximately 7.5 kilometres long, with 15 stations and an estimated journey time of 25 minutes. The project is designed to serve approximately 47,000 inhabitants and 13,900 jobs.

The metropolitan authority estimates that Line 5 could remove around 18,000 cars from the Paillon valley every day and avoid approximately 2,000 tonnes of CO₂ emissions annually.

The project reached another important milestone when its public inquiry was held from 3 November to 12 December 2025, with the inquiry report and conclusions subsequently published. The proposed timetable envisages sections opening progressively, with the Pont-Michel–Ariane section targeted for 2028, the La Trinité connection around 2030 and Drap around 2031.

Once again, the philosophy is strikingly similar to that of the old tramways: connect the communities, make movement easier, open the valleys and bring people closer to Nice. Only the technology has changed.

The Return Of A Regional Vision

There is something particularly interesting about the modern expansion of Nice’s tramway when viewed against the history of the old system.

The historic tramway did not stop at the boundaries of Nice. It reached into neighbouring communities and deep into the mountains because transportation was understood as a means of connecting an entire region.

Today’s tramway is gradually returning to that metropolitan philosophy.

Line 4 will strengthen connections between Nice, Saint-Laurent-du-Var and Cagnes-sur-Mer. Line 5 is intended to strengthen connections between Nice and the communities of the Paillon valley. Together with the existing network, regional rail services and buses, the system is slowly creating a much more integrated transportation network across the metropolitan area.

The modern system is not recreating the old tramway network. That would be neither practical nor desirable. But it is reviving its underlying principle: transportation should connect communities rather than simply move vehicles.

From The Mediterranean To The Mountains

There is also something deeply poetic about the contrast between the old network and the new.

The historic tram could take you from the Mediterranean coast towards the mountains, passing through landscapes that changed dramatically along the way. Today’s network does not yet reproduce that extraordinary reach. The old tramways to Saint-Martin-Vésubie, Guillaumes, Grasse and the other valleys are gone.

But the principle survives.

The modern tram connects the airport to the centre, the centre to the port, the city to the western plain, and increasingly Nice to the communities that surround it.

Beyond the tram itself, the Chemins de Fer de Provence continue to provide a rail connection into the hinterland, while Lignes d’Azur’s integrated network reaches throughout the metropolitan territory. Certain Chemins de Fer de Provence journeys can even be made using Lignes d’Azur fares between Nice Centre and Le Chaudan, illustrating the increasingly interconnected nature of the region’s public transport system.

The old dream of connecting the coast and the mountains has never completely disappeared. It has simply taken different forms.

The Great Irony Of The Tramway

There is a wonderful irony in all of this.

The tram disappeared because the automobile represented the future. Now the tram is returning because the automobile alone cannot provide the future.

The old tramway was eventually overwhelmed by cars because cities had not yet understood the consequences of designing urban life around them. Today’s tramway is part of a broader effort to reclaim public space, reduce congestion, improve air quality and make cities more pleasant to live in.

The philosophy has changed completely. The tram no longer has to compete with the city. Increasingly, the city is being redesigned around the tram.

That can be seen in Nice’s pedestrian areas, redesigned boulevards, cycle routes, planted tram platforms and public squares. The rails are no longer simply transportation infrastructure. They are instruments of urban renewal.

A Different Kind Of Riviera Experience

For visitors, the transformation is just as significant.

The Côte d’Azur has traditionally been associated with glamour, expensive cars, yachts and private transfers. But the modern Riviera can also be experienced without a car, particularly in and around Nice.

A visitor can arrive at Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, take the tram into the city, continue towards the Old Town, reach the Port, connect with buses and trains, and explore much of the coast without ever sitting behind the wheel.

That is not simply convenient. It changes the experience of the destination.

Instead of concentrating on traffic, parking and navigation, visitors can look out of the window and watch the city unfold. They can move at street level, see neighbourhoods they might otherwise have missed and experience Nice as a living city rather than merely a collection of tourist attractions.

For residents, the advantages are even greater. A reliable tram network gives people another choice.

And choice is ultimately what good public transportation is about.

Nearly 150 Years Of History

It is extraordinary to consider just how much has changed since the first horse-drawn streetcars appeared in Nice in 1878.

The city has grown enormously. The population has changed, the coastline has been transformed, roads have been widened, cars have multiplied and entire neighbourhoods have appeared where fields and orchards once stood.

Yet the fundamental problem remains remarkably similar.

How do you move people efficiently through a beautiful but geographically complicated city surrounded by hills, valleys and the Mediterranean?

The answer in 1878 was the tram.

The answer in 1900 was the electric tram.

The answer in the middle of the twentieth century became the automobile and the bus.

And increasingly, the answer of the twenty-first century is once again the tram.

The Future Is On Rails

Perhaps that is the most remarkable part of Nice’s transportation story.

The tram is not simply being restored as a historical curiosity. It is being reinvented as a central part of the city’s future.

The network that returned in 2007 has grown into something far more sophisticated than the system that existed in the nineteenth century. It links the airport, city centre, port, northern districts and western suburbs, while future projects promise to extend the network into neighbouring communities.

Line 4 will push the system towards Cagnes-sur-Mer. Line 5 will reach further into the Paillon valley. Other improvements to public transport, cycling and pedestrian infrastructure are reshaping how people move around the metropolitan area.

And the significance extends beyond transportation.

It is about what kind of city Nice wants to be.

A city dominated by cars, congestion and asphalt, or a city where streets are increasingly designed for people, public transportation, pedestrians and cyclists.

The tram has become one of the clearest symbols of that choice.

A Journey Through Time

Perhaps the best way to understand the story is to imagine standing once again on a Nice street.

In 1878, a horse-drawn tram approached. Passengers climb aboard, the driver takes the reins and the vehicle slowly disappears into the growing city.

A few decades later, electricity has transformed the scene. The tram can travel farther, faster and deeper into the region, carrying passengers along the coast towards Monaco and Menton and climbing into the valleys and mountains of the Alpes-Maritimes.

Then, after decades of decline, the tracks disappear.

Nice becomes a city of buses and automobiles.

For more than fifty years, the tram has existed only in photographs.

Then, in 2007, it returned.

Today, a modern tram glides through Place Masséna. Another disappears beneath the city towards the airport. Another travels west towards Saint-Isidore. Soon, new lines will begin extending the network beyond Nice itself.

The vehicles may be modern, but the idea is remarkably old.

Connect people.

Connect communities.

Make the city accessible.

Make the journey part of everyday life.

That was the purpose of the tramway more than a century ago, and it remains its purpose today.

The rails have returned to the Côte d’Azur, not because Nice is looking backwards, but because the city has realised that one of the solutions to its future was hiding in its past.

From the horse-drawn streetcars of 1878 to the modern tramways of 2026, Nice has travelled an extraordinary circular journey.

And there is still plenty of track ahead.

Photos courtesy of Comté de Nice et son histoire