And then guess what happened? That curly-haired girl went to Nice for a birthday treat to herself. Just you wait and see what she saw. It’s true: Nice is nice.
(O.K. I’m gonna stop with the 3rd person now.)
This is the youth hostel I chose from the list in my guide book, affordable and in disguise as a fancy, smancy 300 year old house.
I think my favorite part of Nice was the colors, both of Vieux (Old) Nice and the bright turquoise of the water. It’s a particular Mediterranean-Southern France-Italy-is-near-by color palette. It made me want to paint, real bad.
Look at that water! I just couldn’t get over it. It was like fake-too-perfect-to-exist-in-real-life water. (Sadly, still way too cold to swim). The picture below shows the Promenade des Anglais, a wide walk-way that follows the coast line. It’s line of palm trees brought Hollywood to mind and there were lots of people, even considering being the off season. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be here in June.
As I sat down for a rest from walking and walking and walking some more, an accordion player busking nearby broke into a waltz from the film Amelie. It’s a really beautiful waltz, one that I’ve been known to put on repeat on my CD player. Even though it was so typical touristy France I couldn’t help, but have a teary-eyed moment of, “I can’t believe I’m really here and I can’t believe I’m hearing this tune right here, right now.”
While I was eating this tarte de citron as luxuriously as possible, an older woman plopped herself in front of me and started chatting up a storm. She was oh-so-talkative that I hardly had a chance to let her know, “Ah! I’m a beginner in French.” I eventually told her so (one thing I do know how to say in French) and we commenced a very sweet and exiting (for me at least) conversation in which she spoke more slowly and I understood soooo much more than I thought I would! Joelle’s daily lessons had really paid off. After a weekend of solo wandering and art seeing (did I mention a guy who worked at the contemporary art museum asked me for coffee?) I was thankful for her company.
O.K. I know all of this looks pretty darned perfect, but keep in mind that travel is incredibly tiring-confusing-sometimes lonely, etc. And yes, Saturday was gorgeous, but Sunday was rainy and cold. I only say this to keep your feet on the ground in the case that these blog entries are making you want to give up your life and run away…But, hey, I’d be the last to judge if you did!
