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Published: October 2nd 2011
Note: All event described in this entry occurred back in December 2006. Please refer back to this blog at a later date for more updated trips and entries. A trip or entry that takes place in the present day will NOT include a note like this. Thank you!
I was unable to go home for Christmas, simply because plane ticket costs, but also I wanted to do some traveling, however another huge reason was because I was waiting to receive my carte au sejour (or residency card) from the French government, therefore I was afraid that I would have issues with re-entering the country. therefore, my trips outside of France were temporarily halted.
I knew I wanted to go away for the holidays, but the question was, where do I go? I wanted to go somewhere unique, different and unusual in France. Well, I thought, normally I go home to FL for Christmas-why don't I go to the French Riviera/Cote d'Azur region? I figured that the weather would be similar to back home, and since I wasn't interested really in the beach, it did not really matter what time of year I went. Over the past four months,
most of the people I encountered discussed their experiences of traveling to Nice. According to their accounts, it was a very pretty city with museums and a historic centre ville (down town in French). This information made me think that I should include Nice on my itinerary.
I leave for Nice at least 3 days before Christmas, and I take two different trains: the first from Dijon to Lyon, and then another from Lyon to Nice Ville station. It took me six hours to arrive in Nice, the whole time either standing or sitting in one of the fold out seats in between train cars. My train literally stopped everywhere in Cote d'Azure and in parts of the Provence regions after Lyon: Avignon, Aix-en-Provence, Marseille, Toulouse, three other cities I don't remember the names of, antibes, Cannes and then finally Nice. It was incredible to watch as the scenery changed from green mountains and hills to limestone cliffs topped with green grass and peach and lime colored homes with Italian tile roofs clinging around its edges. Orange and lemon trees covered the landscape. Eventually civilization was replaced with empty cliffs and open views of the aquamarine colored Mediterranean sea.
The sun was beginning to set, and the golden and orange hues from its rays dangled and glistened across the surface of the water, and gleamed through the windows of the train.
Once in Nice, I followed my hostel's instructions on how to get there. After I checked in and shown up to my room, all I had time for was to grab dinner in the hostel's restaurant. At the restaurant, I end up ordering a slice of pizza with ham, cheese and onions on it I think, however I remember that I was quite impressed with how fresh the ingredients were and the balance of textures between the soft, buttery yet crunchy crust, clean yet gooey cheese and the nice salty, porky flavor of the ham and the sweetness from the onions. When I get back to my dorm (I was in a 6 bedroom mixed dorm) I realize I am now sharing the room with a business man from Toulouse who is going to head home. I will admit, I felt awkward being alone in the dorm with this man (he and I were the only guests in that dorm) however I figured I'd deal with it
since I was planning on staying for six days.
The next day I decide to take the bus from the hostel in order to tour the Vieux Port (Old seaport) and Centre-Ville. I arrive at the Vieux Port around 12:30 PM GMT, so I decide that I need to find a restaurant and eat some lunch. I walk around, admiring the brightly colored buildings and the docked yaughts and motor boats in the very busy, well stocked port until I found a restaurant that had a menu to my liking. I end up ordering a fillet of John Dory fish, covered in a cream sauce with parsley and green beans. I will admit, this was one of the most memorable fish dishes I have ever had. For dessert, I order two scoops of ice cream, chocolate and vanilla, garnished with tinsel. After paying for my meal, I decide to tour some of the shops along the Vieux Port before heading towards Centre-Ville. On my way I pass the Promenade des Anglais (English Boardwalk) and get my first view of the famous stoned beach. I decide to walk off the boardwalk and take a stroll along the beach. I had
a hard time walking along the beach because of the fact that it was made of rocks. My stride was uneven and at times slippery, so I decided to get back on the boardwalk five minutes later. I then head over to go see the ruins of the old citadel. There are two ways to get up here: take the elevator, or walk up a bleeding ton of steps. I decided to take the elevator, even though you have to pay at least 2 euros, round trip. Once I've arrived to the ruins I begin taking pictures, walking around and reading the historical plaques at various points of the site. Apparently this had been the site of a citadel since the Greco-Roman era. Eventually the site was abandoned during the 17th century as was left in disrepair, until it was turned into a park during the 19th century, which is when a fountain was also installed.
After I realize that I have exhausted my visit to the citadel site, I head back to the elevator. On my way back, I pass by the recreational part of the park where I see an adult match of soccer being played and
View of Vieux Nice I
This was taken from the fountain balcony in the citadel ruins parkchildren climbing up the jungle gym.
I follow the Promenade des Anglais until I find the entrance to Centre-Ville. All I do is just walk down streets and do tour some shops. I finish my day by strolling along the Promenade again, and take lots of pictures.
The next day, I head back to Centre-Ville in order to explore more and also do some Christmas shopping. I find a really nice store which contains posters drawn by a local artists, who has been in the business for 30 years. I had a lovely conversation with his wife about his work, the type of media he would use, and how long it took him to do his work. I decided to buy a few posters, some for my future home and one for my parents because I felt these were a unique find and souvenir to take home.
I then find another store selling home made soaps and hand painted porcelain. This was another store owned by a husband/wife team; the wife was the one who hand painted the porcelain, while the husband made homemade jams and soaps. I decided to get for my parents a lovely sampler
Vieux Nice, I
This is part of the famous flower market that is found in Nice. of the husband's homemade jams. There were five flavors: lavender, rose, orange, and unfortunately I forget the other three flavors. All I know is that my parents enjoyed them very much, so much that they still rave about how delicious they were. I also bough a little soap dish gift set with the husband's homemade rose soap, which I will admit was some of the best soap Ive ever used. I wish I remembered the name of the store, but it is one of my favorite stores on the planet. If the shopping in Nice doesn't encourage you to consider coming here apart from the history and the beach, I don't know what else will.
I then head back to the hostel for dinner, however I begin to notice that I was coming down with a soar throat. I eat a dinner of bifstec au poivre (or steak with a peppercorn sauce) and then head back to the dorm. I come in to find that the man from Toulouse is gone, however now there's an Irishman in his mid 50s, early 60s there now. We start a very long conversation about our travels and experiences in traveling through continental
Europe. Privately, I was a little creeped out that yet again, I was sharing a dorm with a man triple my age and there was no one else, however he was a nice man, well traveled and pleasant to talk to.
Christmas Day, 2006- I woke up coughing and unfortunately my sore throat had gotten worse. I found myself alone, which was good since I started to vomit. I decided to take some cough medicine that I had brought with me and I stayed in the entire day. this was kind of a problem because I did have plans of taking a day trip to Monaco/Monte Carlo and a well preserved Medieval city not that far away, and I was also planning on going after that to Strausbourg three days later, and I was concerned that I was going to have to cancel my hostel, train and hotel reservations. I also had immediate plans to attend my hostel's Christmas dinner that night-I had paid 10 euros for this so I was determined to go and not waste my money. Therefore, I decided that I needed to stay in my room, take some medicine and sleep this off. I woke
up again around 5 PM GMT. My sore throat had diminished by 90%, and my coughing had stopped. My stomach no longer felt queasy, however now I was hungry. Before leaving Dijon, I had purchased for myself at my favorite pain d'espice boutique a gingerbread man for Christmas day because of the fact that I was missing out on my family's tradition of making and baking gingerbread cookies. "you can't have Christmas without gingerbread cookies" my mother always says. I figured that the gingerbread man would not allow me to feel so homesick since I was away from home. After taking a picture of the cookie to show my family and friends back home, I ate him and wondered how my mother was fairing with making the gingerbread cookies on her own. I decided to call mom and wish her, my father and maternal grandmother a merry Christmas. "We miss you, honey" she says, " it feels so odd not to have you home with us. I made the gingerbread cookies and they turned out very good, however I have refused to make royal icing since you aren't here to decorate. Dad's complaining about it, but I don't have the
patience to decorate them the way you do." I am always given decorating duty of the cookies, and I tend to get quite creative because I try to design dresses for the women shaped cookies, pants and shirts for the men and hair on them. I also like to decorate our church bell shaped cookies, and I try to add color and definition to our Santa, Rudolf and elf shaped ones. Helping my mom bake and decorate the cookies actually is one of my favorite parts of the holiday season. "I'm sorry I'm not there to help, mom. I actually miss helping you make and decorate the cookies, however I'm glad I bought my cookie back in Dijon. I'm glad to hear they turned out good. I'm looking forward to the Christmas dinner the hostel is going to prepare because the chef here is incredible; everything I've eaten here has been as good as most restaurant food you find in France. However, I do miss not having our traditional meal of roasted pork and arroz con gondules. How did they turn out?" Mom replied, "They turned out really good-the pork was nice and garlicky, tender and the cilantro added a
nice touch as always. The arroz con gondules were good as always, however I added olives since you weren't home. I know you don't like them, but dad and grandma were insistent that I put some in." I had mixed feelings about this because I would have thought that out of respect of me not being there that dad and grandma would have left the olives out, however I wasn't there to eat it so I guess it didn't matter. "You have Christmas and birthday presents waiting for you when you come back. Don't worry about ceremony, just open them when you come back." I tell her yes and then take a few minutes to talk to my dad and grandmother. Once the phone was handed back to my mom, I tell her that it's time for me to go to the dinner. We declare our love, and then say our goodbyes.
I arrive at the restaurant, which is now filled tables and chairs arranged in a huge rectangle shape. I sat next to my Irish roommate and an English woman, who was also in her 50s, 60s. We were served four incredible courses by the hostel's chef: mini
shrimp salad served in an advocado, roasted turkey stuffed with chesnuts and fois gras, a cheese course with brie, munster and several other soft, semi-soft and hard cheeses from all over France, and then I believe dessert was a buche du noel (yuletide log cake). Coffee was optional at the end and we had all the red and white wine we could drink during the meal. It was one of the best and most memorable meals that I ever had during time abroad because of the food, and the wonderful companionship of my Irish and new English friends. We talked the entire night about travel and about our countries. Ironically the English woman had been to my home town and many of the cities in the surrounding area where I had grown up in FL, the first person I had encountered who had ever. Therefore, our conversation concentrated primarily on her travels within the US, FL and what my life was like in the US. "I live in SC now, because I'm currently going to university there."
"Where do you go to school?" She asks.
"Winthrop University; I'm studying Music and Political Science there, double major."
She was rather intrigued
by this. "Hmm, interesting combination. So why are you in France?"
"Several reasons really. I have some French ancestry on my father's side of the family, so I was interested in traveling to France to see what it was like. Second, I've been studying French for 2-3 years now and felt traveling to France was the best way to perfect my knowledge of the language. Third, I love history, literature, culture, gastronomy and the arts and France has historically been so, therefore I thought that I would enjoy living here because there's so much of that here. Fourth, I've always wanted to travel to Europe and explore the various countries here, and therefore I figured that coming to France for education and also as a tourist was a win/win situation. Five, I wanted to experience French culture for myself, figured I'd learn more here by going than by watching tv or relying solely on books."
She felt my answers were logical. I then tell her about my travels thus far through France, and also my trips to Poland and Belgium. It is at this moment that my Irish roommate mentions his first trip to Poland back in the 1980s. Apparently,
horse and carriages were still being used as work-a-day transportation. "Incredible," I replied, " I never would have thought that. It's not like that anymore however I noticed that the grocery stores didn't have as much processed, frozen or dried foods like you see in France, the US or the UK and Ireland. I saw canned food, but most food was either canned or in its raw state. The closest to prepared food was in the well stocked delicatesys, or delis there and in bakeries. I did see frozen food, but there was only one or two cases normally. I'm sure this will change as they financially integrate with the European Union, however then it might not because Poland has a unique food culture that people might not want to see go for the sake of nostalgia."
I go to bed feeling happy, satisfied and salubrious. In celebration, I figured that tomorrow I would take the day trip to Monaco/Monte Carlo after all.
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