Monday

Despite a late night it was up early and into the infinity pool to wake ourselves up beneath the blue skies of the French Riviera.
And then it was time to do some business.
We checked out the pavilions where the film boards of the countries of the world had pitched their elaborate tents.
Into the Irish Film Board to issue some more invitations to our big bash in Morrison's Bar on Wednesday night, cup of coffee, a few important phone calls, and then down a few pitches to the British tent to meet up with some old friends of the Richard Harris International Film Festival.

Super Villian Sean Cronin was holding court and Stephen Hall took the opportunity to get him interested in his next project.
Cannes has very little to do with what you have previously done or doing now (unless it's a distribution deal), and everything to do with what you are doing next.
It's all about the money.
The ground in Cannes is littered with the names of the rich and famous that are constantly being dropped - whether it is in association with the next project, or simply because they had been seen the night before.
They keep themselves firmly locked away from the mere mortals though as they inhabit the top hotels with over zealous security or behind the ropes of VIP sections.
But the majority of the Cannes attendees are ordinary individuals who have come to network and find people who can fund, direct, star in, film or distribute their next interesting story.
It's all about the pitch.
And the craic.
And the banter.
And it abounds in Cannes on every corner, in every bar, in every hotel, at most parties.
And you never know who you're going to meet next.