Saint-Tropez & Port Grimaud: Day Trip from Nice with Boat Ride

4.68

(136 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I didn’t expect the air in Sainte-Maxime to smell that salty—almost sweet, actually, like sunscreen and bakery bread mixed together. Our guide, Luc, was already waving us toward the dock before I could finish my coffee. The boat across the bay to Saint-Tropez was bigger than I pictured (less rocking than I feared), and there was this weirdly peaceful hush as we left the shore—just a few gulls and the slap of water against the hull. Fifteen minutes later, we were in Saint-Tropez, which felt both glamorous and kind of ordinary at once. I mean that in a good way.

Luc pointed out Brigitte Bardot’s old place as we wandered past yachts that looked more like floating apartments than boats. There was a market going on—Tuesdays and Saturdays if you’re planning ahead—and it was just chaos: flowers everywhere, people arguing gently over cheese prices, someone selling lavender sachets that made my backpack smell like summer for days after. We had time to pick a spot for lunch by the port (I caved for moules frites), and honestly just watching people stroll by felt like half the fun.

After Saint-Tropez, we drove to Port Grimaud—the “Little Venice” they call it. It’s quieter there, pastel houses reflected in the canals, kids eating ice cream with sticky hands. I tried ordering pistachio gelato in French; the woman behind the counter smiled politely but definitely switched to English halfway through. Depending on the weather or Luc’s mood (he joked about this), sometimes you get beach time or sometimes a wine tasting instead—I got lucky with both sun and sand that day. The water was cold but clear enough to see my toes.

The drive back wound through vineyards under late afternoon light—Côte de Provence territory—and Luc talked about how every village has its own festival in summer. We passed through red cliffs of the Estérel massif; I kept thinking how different it looked from Nice even though it’s not far at all. By drop-off I still smelled faintly of sea salt and sunscreen—maybe that’s why this day trip from Nice sticks with me.