The Riviera - Beaches, Palm Trees, and the most persistent men in France

It is bloody HOT outside!!! But on the plus side, all the keys on this keyboard are in the right places. But now I'm so used to the other way that I dont quite know what to do... Oh well.

So last we left off was our last night in Lyon. We went out for a fabulous meal in the newer part of town, where a very adorable old couple (Dick and Joie from Iowa) sat next to us. We helped them pick their meals because they didn't know what anything meant. Anyhow, they were quite funny, they were one of those couples where they know each other so well that they know who tells the stories best, so all the time Joie would be like "Ooooh! Dick! Tell them about how you did your laundry in Norway!" or "Ooooh! Dick! Tel them about the time you motorbiked across Europe!". Turns out that when Dick was in Norway in 1956, he didn't do his laundry for 6 weeks and then sent it home in the mail back to New Mexico so that his mom could do them for him. The hilarity.

Our train ride to Antibes was a bit of a fiasco, because the guy who was working at Reservations/Information was a bit of a prat, and basically told us that there was no such place as Vallauris (I beg to differ, since that's where our hotel was) and that the earliest we could get to Nice was 9:30 at night. So instead of taking his stupid advice, we got on another train and got to Vallauris (*gasp! it IS a place) by 4:30. Loser. Anyhow, our hotel room rocked, because it was actually a hotel so it had a television! We spend the night relaxing despite the sweltering heat, and watching French Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and French Simpsons, and the Triplettes of Belleville (which I fell asleep during). There was a bit of an issue with a VERY persistant Frenchman who decided he liked me and started throwing rocks at our window, but we think he fell asleep, so that was that.

The next day we went to the beach, which was absolutely GORGEOUS and hot and sunny with palm trees and we were very excited, especially about getting a tan. We just lied around and took turns playing in the Mediterranian so one person could watch the bags, and had a nice relaxing time. We thought it a bit odd that many women just ran around with their tops off and nobody seemed to care. Oh well, the French I suppose. So after spending a while there I decided that my arms were a perfect shade of bronze, although my legs seemed to be resisting the sunlight (they've been in darkness for too long, I think). However, after a while my perfect shade of bronze turned into a lovely shade of flourescent red. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH the PAIN! The agony!!!! Basically, the only parts of me that aren't burnt are the parts that were covered with a bathing suit, and strangely, my bellybutton has a weird burn aroudn the edge. So Sarah and I spent the night watching the Banger Sisters (which, funnily enough, is called "Sex Fans des Sixties" in France...) and loading up on aloe vera. Then the stupid Frenchman started throwing more stuff at our window, but we figured if we just ignored him that he would stop, so we went to sleep. And he did stop for a bit but then he started agian, and by that time I was so pissed off that I whipped open the window and screamed at him, at which time he retreated back into his room while other people poked their heads out of their windows to see what was going on. Then he stopped. I win, bwahahahaha!

We woke up very early and had breakfast, and after complaining about the stupid Frenchman to reception we went to the train station and waited. Sarah was feeling a bit sick, but she's better now, not to worry. Anyhow, this stupid train station sucks because there are no trains to Pisa until 6:00 so we won't be there until like midnight and I don't know if our hostel will even let us in. Grrrrr... We will call them from Genova to see, and if not, we will stay in Genova overnight. Stupid public transportation. Stupid train stations. Oh well, at least I could catch up on my reading. We bought these British magazines which were the only English ones at the station and they were like those paparazzi magazines that are like "ooh, look whose picture we took of their butt hanging out". Amusing nonetheless.

Well, today I say goodbye to the beautiful beaches, the palm trees, and the idiot Frenchman who can't take a hint.

Love, hugs, kisses!

Jackie