Betty - Day six and seven

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Day 6

We arose early and had a quick breakfast before hitting the road. It was a long drive and took us longer than expected. The freeways are fast (130kph) and well-maintained as would be expected with frequent tolls. I was quite beside myself when we arrived, lost in Nice. I could see huge, 18th Century buildings with a very Italian flavour, painted in subtle hues of salmon, saffron and white with terracotta trims. Pots of exotic flowers and heads of lions, roman silhouettes, modern public art, high winding sloping roads. But on the street, the Bondi of the south of France: tans, white pants, small dogs, motor scooters and thongs, loud cars and lots and lots of people.

We met our agent in Nice who showed us to our apartment. It is a small, gay-owned company and we were both gobsmacked when we saw this amazing place, owned by a man of evident good taste (bon gout): full of art, antiques, treasures, flowers and attention to every detail. Kate will post photos. We were beyond lucky to have someone lend us such an amazing home to us.

We ate pizza on the lively main plaza that night, had a cocktail and wobbled out to the beach promenade on the way home.



Day 7

We took breakfast in the central plaza of Nice where they were setting up an antique market. After trawling the market for an hour or two (and a few lucky finds!) we got into the car and drove to the picturesque town of Eze, high on an escarpment, east of Nice. This medieval town was once taken by pirates and inspired the philosopher Nietzsche and the writer Collette.
We drove to Monte Carlo, the capital of Monaco further east, just before Italy. It is all about the casino. We did a slow, bug-eyed circuit. The glistening white and gold façade and the decadent gardens and fountains, luxury cars - Bentleys and Rolls driving into the entry and chaps in livery opening doors. It was all a bit much. We jumped in the car and headed for Villefranche-Sur-Mer, this time back on the lower road (or, cornish) this time close to the sea. The Mediterranean is beautiful. Crystalline, prismic, azure. We picked our way down to the quiet, pebbly beach and joined another couple of lady-bathers who were slowly rotissaring themselves into an allover shade of Mediterranean leather. We swam for half an hour before heading back to Nice and the Musee Matisse.

I was very pleased to see an entire museum of Matisse (my most favourite artist) so I skirted (what seemed to be) the edge of a group of old Frenchmen playing boules in the courtyard. The exchange went something like this:
(in French)
“Bonjour madameoiselle, what a pretty dress”
“Oh, merci monsieur”
“My mother used to wear one just like that”
(another guy) “Your mother?! She is too old…”
“Don’t listen to him”
And before you know it, about 5 old Frenchmen were gathered, like a flock of pigeons, puffing up and jostling about in the dust. Flirting, like boules is a national sport. And far from rescuing me, Kate chuckled on the grass whilst I slipped out sideways. Now I know. Don’t ever take the bait. By the way, the museum was amazing. I am more inspired by the beauty of Matisse’s world than ever. His vivid simplicity, his confident lines and movement.

Oh, and the other best thing about our trip to Nice was that we went the supermarket. If you love food, faire des courses (or shopping at the supermarket) is a religious experience. Two aisles of yoghourts! Hundreds of cheeses. I could die here, right in the cold food section.

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