What can one say about the French Riviera? I pick up my
travels as I make my way via train from Milan to Nice on the Sunday afternoon.
I wasn’t exactly planning on going to Nice however I was meeting and staying
with Ryan and Jean-Yves (see previous posts from Dusseldorf and Berlin); as
such the invitation was too good and I boarded the train happy to be getting
more chances to eat beautiful French sweets whilst sitting in the sun on the
crystal blue water’s edge.
The train arrived late in the afternoon at Gare de Nice and I
sat on the main street as I waited for Ryan to come and show me around. An hour
or so later we walked up the stairs to the guy’s new apartment and put my stuff
down whilst being careful not to mess up JY’s neat row of shoes (don’t ask).
After a quick rest we went for a walk down to the foreshore and through the surrounds
before heading back to the apartment to rest as both of us were exhausted (mine
due to still being hung-over and full day or travelling and Ryan’s due to
work). Jean-Yves returned home from work a little while later and we had a
quick catch-up and decided what I was going to do the next day before he went
to an open-mic night down at the hostel and we stayed in to eat dinner and
finish watching “In Bruges” (I had left Dusseldorf before we could finish it
there).
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| Nice |
The train ride itself was marvellous; not only were the
views spectacular but the company was fantastic. I walked onto the train and
found that I was sharing the cabin with 3 young Italian girls, an Italian
grandmother and an Iraqi girl called Dalia. Contrary to every train I’ve taken
before (with the exception of the Czech Republic), this carriage was very
talkative and friendly.
Dalia spoke fluent English, the Italian girls were
relatively competent and the grandmother none, so as such the girls played translator
for the grandmother and we had lovely conversations. However, after the three
younger girls left it was just I, Dalia and the grandmother left and the fun
really began. I have always found that some of the funniest conversations are
those with a serious language barrier, and we giggled as we tried to translate
the grandmother’s conversations. We know that she spoke about her family (9
children-or grandchildren we couldn’t tell), taking a very quick scooter ride
from Milan to the doctors, the mountains, and fashion. We managed to work out
that she said that Dalia’s pants were beautiful and that she liked my Doc Marten’s very much, but
then she said something about “not in Milan” and I couldn’t tell if that was
"no-one wears them in Milan" or that "you can’t buy them in Milan". Considering neither
Dalia nor I spoke a word of Italian we were pretty pleased with our translation
efforts and as the grandmother bid us farewell and safe travels as she
departed from the carriage in San Remo we did the same and giggled in amazement
as soon as the door was shut. Something so small absolutely made my day and
made the train trip genuinely enjoyable and the time fly.
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| The boardwalk |
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| Monaco Marina-these aren't even the big boats. |
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| Monaco |
The next morning we awoke early and I set off. My plan while
the boys were at work was to explore some of Nice before heading to Monaco for
the afternoon. I set off. My first stop was to find the internet café where I
could print my boarding pass and flight details for my flight the next day and
check Facebook. Normally I’m not addicted to Facebook, but I was waiting on
details of whether I was meeting with James in Dublin or Galway and spending a
few days with him and his Irish friend Andrea. After a quick organisational
session, I one again set off. Since the weather was stunning (think clear
skies, clearer, bluer water and warm, brilliant sunshine) I was planning on
soaking it up with a long walk along the foreshore towards the markets before
winding my way back through the Old Town and Port area and then grabbing lunch
before heading for the train to Monaco.
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| The Casino |
Before I go on I need to note that people watching along the
board-walk is actually incredibly entertaining. You get all types and some just
make you giggle and shake your head while you try to work out what they were thinking when they decided to do or wear THAT *giggles*.
Moving on.
After my internet catch-up I made my way to the markets. I
wasn’t quite sure what to expect but spent a good hour and a half wandering along
the alleyway looking at vintage records, prints, all manner of knick-knacks and
jewellery as well as furniture and just general antique goodness. After looking
at my watch and being mildly surprised how much time I had spent just looking
at goods I made my way along the boardwalk for an hour or so before making my
way into the small streets of the old town to find myself some lunch. I hadn’t
really indulged in French pastries before this point in my trip, and so
relished the chance to try some new sweets. After a “pain au chocolat”
(chocolate croissant) and an apple, walnut and raisin tart in the sun I set off
for the train station.
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| View over Monaco |
Now, a tip for anyone planning on using self-serve ticket
machines in Nice: they don’t take monetary notes and cards which need
signatures don’t work either. As you can imagine this is an absolute pain in
the arse any time your ticket is over 4 euros and as such I missed the first
train to Monaco and had to wait an extra twenty minutes until the next.
Brilliant.
I arrived in Monaco in the early afternoon and had no idea
where to start. As I left the train station walking through the marbled tunnels
I wasn’t sure what to think. Incredible, showy wealth is quite intimidating,
but I set off anyway and as I walked across the road I was passed by a
beautiful red Ferrari. This set the tone for my entire afternoon as I did more
people watching and allowed my jaw to drop at the boats sitting in the harbour.
Admittedly I found this part of my trip difficult; having lived in North Africa
I’ve seen how much a dollar is worth, and (in my humble opinion) no-one needs
as much wealth as this place has. I walked up the hill passing the marina and
heading towards the Monte Carlo Casino. As I found my way to the front, I was
greeted by the sight of about 50 luxury cars; Bentleys, Ferraris, Aston Martins
and more. Tourists were simply sitting around watching people arriving and
departing the Casino. I kept moving. I wasn’t under time constraints however I
the walk had taken longer than expected and I wanted to get the 4 o’clock train
back to Nice. I made my way back past the station and up into the hills towards
the Palace.
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| The Palace |
As I arrived I caught the end of the change of guards (not
the main change, but a small intermediate change) and then continued walking
back down the hill back towards the train station. I had passed a cute gelato
store and so stopped in on my way back to the train. I was made rather nervous
by a random, dodgy character watching me eat (and it wasn’t anything special so
this was un-nerving to say the least) so moved on quite quickly.
I arrived back in Nice at around 4:30 and decided that I
would track down some phone credit. This was easier said than done. Vodafone
don’t actually operate in France, so I had to find their partner carrier and
see if I could recharge my phone. After a hour of chasing store locations down,
being pointed in other directions and helping a French Woman to translate the
Portuguese instructions on the voice recording (and I don’t speak any
Portuguese) I had my credit and so decided to keep wandering for a while as the
boys were going to be late. I found myself back in the old town and as I walked
past another boulangerie I ducked in and bought a batch of macaroons. I took
them back to the apartment and met the boys and as Jean-Yves cooked Ryan and I
sat and ate macaroons and laughed at for what I can’t remember. We had a lovely
dinner of Pork Steaks and vegetables after which we got a little bit dressed up
and went out for a walk through the town to have a drink or two and get some
“world-famous” gelato. Now I’m not sure if it was worthy of the world famous
title, but it was still exceptionally good and we wandered back to the
apartment feeling rather satisfied about the night
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| View from the apartment |
The next morning we all awoke, the boys to go to work and
myself to go to the airport. I was to catch my flight to Dublin later that day
and since the guys were working early I decided to go to the airport and sit
and wait. My flight was delayed by a full half-hour (unimpressed Ryan Air) and
as such I managed to use the airport Wi-Fi and keep myself occupied trying to
book accommodation in Galway and making sure that the plans James and I had
decided on were still in motion.
The plane ride went well after we actually boarded, and we
touched down to cold, grey skies in Dublin two hours later. As my time in Nice
ends so does this blog, and once again,
Until next time,
Love Love!
Clem xx
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