The story
As you stand here on Avenue Émile Bieckert, take a deep breath. You are currently on the threshold of Nice’s most storied heights. Look around you at the winding road and the elegant villas that line this path.
You are beginning an ascent into a world that feels distinct from the sun-drenched, bustling energy of the Promenade des Anglais below. This hill, Cimiez, isn't just a prestigious neighborhood; it is a living timeline of Mediterranean civilization, layered like the very stones beneath your feet. Long before the modern city of Nice existed, this ridge was known as Cemenelum.
Two thousand years ago, the Romans recognized the strategic and aesthetic value of this vantage point. If you continue your climb, you will eventually reach the heart of that ancient provincial capital. There, the remnants of Roman life are still visible—the weathered stone of the amphitheater and the ruins of the thermal baths.
It is easy to imagine the toga-clad citizens of the empire strolling under the same silver-leafed olive trees that still shade the park today, looking out over the azure curve of the Baie des Anges. However, the hill’s second golden age arrived much later, during the height of the Belle Époque. As you move further up the avenue, the architecture shifts from the classical to the regal.
Look for the monumental facade of the Excelsior Regina Palace. This was the winter sanctuary of Queen Victoria. She didn’t just visit Nice; she transformed Cimiez into the most fashionable destination in Europe.
Local lore tells of the Queen arriving with a massive entourage, including her personal donkey carriage, to navigate these very slopes. The Regina still stands as a magnificent crown atop the hill, a testament to an era of lace, parasols, and royal prestige. But Cimiez did not just attract the ruling class; it drew those who could capture the essence of light itself.
The legendary Henri Matisse lived here, right inside the Regina, mesmerized by the way the afternoon sun hit the terracotta roofs and the Mediterranean foliage. Not far away, the artist Raoul Dufy was equally enchanted by the vibrant colors of the coast. Both men are now woven into the eternal fabric of this place.
If you follow the scent of blooming roses and old stone toward the Franciscan Monastery at the summit, you will find their final resting place. The monastery cemetery is a place of profound quiet. There, among the weathered crosses, Matisse and Dufy lie buried, forever anchored to the hill that fueled their genius.
As you walk Avenue Émile Bieckert today, you are following in the footsteps of emperors, queens, and masters of art. Take your time; every step upward is a step back through two thousand years of history.