There’s something oddly affecting about being up at 4:30 am at my 19th Century rental not far from the Cannes marina (7 rue Jean Joseph Mero) and hearing the seagulls cawing and meowing and almost barking like seals overhead. The light is somewhere between dark blue and shrouded gray and the city has yet to stir, but the gulls, man….”Eerrrraaaaww! Earhahw! Earhahw…muck, muck, muck, muck!” Gulls have sounded like this for thousands of years, but there’s something about being here and really listening to them in the pre-dawn quiet…it’s a moment.