Super-Cannes

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She gazed at the office buildings that climbed the valley slopes, and at the satellite dishes distilling their streams of information from the sky. It is tempting to see Ballard as the seer of Shepperton, the self-styled suburbanite who carves out grim dystopias of technology, corruption and perversion from the safety of the sofa. Or indeed as the child internee of Empire of the Sun, who transforms every social space into a prison in which savagery is the necessary corollary to survival. Neither of these descriptions is particularly untrue, but in Super-Cannes - in many ways a companion piece to Ballard's previous novel, Cocaine Nights - we might identify the author of other kinds of fiction, the detective novel, the tender travelogue and the supremely subtle parody also jostling for attention. A cinema room, gym and spa are included on the lower ground level which also includes an independent guest cloakroom and laundry facilities. The luxury real estate market in Cannes is constantly growing. This emblematic city of the French Riviera attracts buyers from around the world every year to enjoy its exceptional setting and quality of life. The demand for luxury villas is therefore high and the number of high-quality properties available is constantly being renewed. A safe and profitable investment Paul and Jane Sinclair relocate from London to the Eden-Olympia, where Jane will be on the medical staff available to the executives and employees of the multinational corporations that have built headquarters there. (I love the name, “Eden-Olympia.” It resonates with the sort of developer overkill that couldn’t decide whether to evoke the innocence of the prelapsarian garden or the mountain home of the all-powerful yet all-so-human gods.) Jane is a pediatrician brought there for a high-paying job. Paul is recovering from a flying accident.

Reflections from its disturbed surface seemed to bruise the smooth walls of the house. The light drummed against Jane’s sunglasses, giving her the edgy and vulnerable look of a studio visitor who had strayed into the wrong film set. I love this sentence so much. It makes me laugh at how ridiculous it is, while also making me shudder because it works. There is more lurking menace when Paul and Jane arrive at their new home: Paul? I’m not your daughter.’ Jane frowned at me, as if I were an intruder into her world, then touched my cheek forgivingly. ‘I signed a six-month contract. Since David died they’ve had recruitment problems. They need me…’ Gravel tore at the Jaguar's tyres. Waking from her reverie, Jane braked sharply before we reached the gatehouse, sending the old sports saloon into a giddy shunt. Two uniformed guards looked up from their electronic screens, but Jane ignored them, readying a two-finger salute that I managed to conceal.

Super views from Super Cannes - villa for rent

While many of Ballard's stories are thematically and narratively unusual, he is perhaps best known for his relatively conventional war novel, Empire of the Sun (1984), a semi-autobiographical account of a young boy's experiences in Shanghai during the Second Sino-Japanese War as it came to be occupied by the Japanese Imperial Army. Described as "The best British novel about the Second World War" by The Guardian, the story was adapted into a 1987 film by Steven Spielberg. If you love to shop ‘til you drop, spend a few hours browsing the area around the Rue d’Antibes. Find the latest it-bag or must-have shoes in the luxury boutiques on the Croisette or treat yourself to a little something for the home, in the one of a kind shops along Rue Hoche. If you want to experience life as a local, head down to the Forville market in the Place du Marché. The market is held 6 days a week and has a fantastic array of Provençal specialities. The cheese and meat stalls sell all sorts of goodies for an alfresco lunch, while you won’t be able to resist the tempting array of summer fruit, grown in the French Riviera sunshine. Gravel tore at the Jaguar’s tyres. Waking from her reverie, Jane braked sharply before we reached the gatehouse, sending the old sports saloon into a giddy shunt. Two uniformed guards looked up from their electronic screens, but Jane ignored them, readying a two-finger salute that I managed to conceal. The things to do. Cannes has glorious beaches, luxury boutiques and some amazing restaurants. Who could ask for anything more?

We left the Cannes road and turned onto a landscaped avenue that led towards the gates of the business park. The noise from the Jaguar's tyres fell away as they rolled across a more expensive surface material - milled ivory, at the very least - that would soothe the stressed wheels of the stretch limousines. A palisade of Canary palms formed an honour guard along the verges, while beds of golden cannas flamed from the central reservation. The first office buildings in the Eden-Olympia complex were emerging from the slopes of a long valley filled with eucalyptus trees and umbrella pines. Beyond them were the rooftops of Cannes and the Îles de Lérins, a glimpse of the Mediterranean that never failed to lift my heart. Perverse behaviours were once potentially dangerous. Societies weren't strong enough to allow them to flourish." Psychopathy is the only engine powerful enough to light our imaginations, to drive the arts, sciences and industries of the world." Acquiring a prestigious villa in Cannes has many advantages that attract new buyers every year. An idyllic living environment

Prestigious villa in Super Cannes

Lured by tax concessions and a climate like northern California's, dozens of multinational companies had moved into the business park that now employed over ten thousand people. The senior managements were the most highly paid professional caste in Europe, a new elite of administrators, enarques and scientific entrepreneurs. The lavish brochure enthused over a vision of glass and titanium straight from the drawing boards of Richard Neutra and Frank Gehry, but softened by landscaped parks and artificial lakes, a humane version of Corbusier's radiant city. Even my sceptical eye was prepared to blink. Rather than overheat either Jane’s imagination or the Jaguar’s elderly engine, I decided to avoid the Autoroute du Soleil and take the RN7. We bypassed Paris on the Périphérique, and spent our first evening at a venerable hotel in the forest near Fontainebleau, spelling out the attractions of Eden-Olympia to each other and trying not to notice the antique hunting rifle on the dining-room mantelpiece. In the end, Paul believes he has found the motive for David’s murder spree. It also becomes a motive for his own embrace of David’s murderous modus operandi: