Lifestyles Of The Rich And The Famous

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Livin' It Up On The Cote D'Azur

The previous day I wasn’t able to get a train from Barcelona to Marseille organised so it was on to Plan B and head to the bus station to organise a ticket. The morning I was to leave on my first European bus was a nightmare. Arriving at the station an hour before departure, I waited for the gate to be displayed and then headed there with my ticket to wait for the bus. The bus came and the Spanish driver directed people in Spanish to put luggage in certain areas of the bus depending on where you were planning on getting off. Not a problem… got my luggage on and went to hand the ticket to the driver and …. all hell breaks loose. He points at a bit of paper others have given him. Seemingly a ticket is not enough to get on the bus, you need a departure card as well. No one tells you this of course when you buy the ticket!! So through charades I find out I have to go back to the ticket desk on the other side of the station to get the departure card only to find a guy sitting at his computer refusing to serve anyone until he finishes what he’s doing. Finally, 15 minutes after the bus was supposed to have left, the guy looks up and starts serving. Taking a look at my ticket briefly he gives me a departure card and asks how many bags. “One” I say, thinking like airports, they mean not including hand luggage. Back to the bus, I pass the departure card to driver and he points at the luggage tag in my hand. I try to tell him it’s for my bag that’s already under the bus with the doors closed and he yells at me!!! “Spain, not England!! Spanish , no English!!” while gesturing wildly that we were in Spain (I nearly tried to make him speak French when we crossed the border just out of spite). By this point, I pushed past him and took a seat not listening to what he had to say to my back if he wasn’t going to speak civilly to my face.

Leaving around 45 minutes late, we were held up further when the bus was chosen for a random passport inspection at the border, and finally we arrived at Marseille at 7pm, just over an hour later than expected.

Marseille was really just a rest stop for a couple of nights before moving on but upon check in at the hostel I met my roommates, two Scottish guys, Michael and Colin, and two German girls, Katty and Carina. After being on the bus for so long I couldn’t resist the temptation of a pint so the five of us were off to the pub. What a random night!!!! After a couple, we headed off for some food and found a place that also made mojitos. Then back to an Irish pub where low and behold, we meet a couple of Irish lads that joined on. And then there was seven. Singing contests with the French outside another pub and an ice cream later, we manage to get home by about 3am before talking until about 5am and getting a couple of hours sleep. Not a bad introduction to Marseille.

Breakfast the next morning we saw the girls off as it was back home for them, before I headed off to explore the town on my own for a bit. Not a bad town to have a wander through with churches and a lovely port that’s surrounded by a fortification at it’s mouth. By chance, I met up with Michael and Colin while investigating the fort and decided to stick together as we wandered towards the coast. Right on the point of the entrance to the port, there was a crew filming with trailers for the stars and the works. Look out France… I might just be your next big star from my cameo role as I walked behind them while they were shooting.

As with everywhere on the Mediterranean, the beach was packed but it did make for a nice stroll along the coast which is where I realised something interesting. It doesn’t matter where you are in the world, if it’s a nice day then your always going to have people that drive done up cars down the coast with the stereo pumped and the windows down. Just because some of the songs were in French didn’t seem to matter, it still felt like Scarborough.

With a train the next morning to Nice, I didn’t hit it quite as hard this night when we met back up with the Irish boys again. This time the rest of the hostel had come as well it seemed. Now the group consisted of 3 Australians, 2 Scotsmen, 2 Irishmen, 1 Mexican, 1 Finnish and 1 Swedish. Sounds like a joke gone wrong but it was a fun night had by all.

Leaving Marseille behind, I was off to discover the Cote D’Azur (or French Riviera depending where your from) using Nice as my base. As the train passes through some of the most well known places in the world, I spot Cannes and read how it is where The Man In The Iron Mask was imprisoned on an island off the coast. Nice is a decent enough city with it’s Old Quarter and Roman castle on the hill over looking the beaches and headlands. What really was disappointing (even though I already knew about it) was the rocky beaches that Nice is famous for. There’s this beautiful blue water, a lovely seaside promenade and then all these dull grey rocks. And I’m not talking about round, smooth pebbles either. These are nasty, jagged, inflict pain on the soles of your feet and your bum kind of rocks. No wonder everyone takes inflatable mattresses down with them!!

First on the agenda was to head to another country…. that’s right, I said head to another country!!! Just 20 minutes on the train East of Nice is the playground for the rich and famous. A place so exclusive that it cost one million Euros just to put in an application for residence and that doesn‘t guarantee acceptance. A place where they reserve the right to say no to people like Michael Jackson and Madonna. Where police uniforms consist of plain clothes and plain clothes cost about a years salary. A sovereign country that at 1.84sqkm is the second smallest country in the world. A place called Monaco and it’s capital Monte Carlo.

Ever since learning about motorsport I’ve always wanted to visit Monte Carlo. The thrill of Formula 1 on the shortest, tightest and windiest track in the world where the most down force is needed and the yachts bigger than hotels line the port with their own car collections lined up in front. What sucked was the day I picked to go on….

Nice cars blurred together in front of the Monte Carlo Casino (where Casino Royale was filmed) with the opulence you would expect from one of the richest casinos in the world but down by the harbour there were a couple of cruise liners but a distinct lack of the luxury yachts. Finding out I’d picked the one day that they all head to Cannes for a fireworks display kind of put a dampener on the whole situation.

Determined to get the most out of the day anyway, I walked the entire length of the F1 track through the city and even through the famous tunnel under a hotel before strolling along the promenade and heading to the palace which just happens to be situated on another hill. Walking around the headland, there are information points posted along the way to mark significant sights such as the cathedral where Grace Kelly married the Prince in the 1950’s, where she first came ashore, and where she opened a park and… and… and they all were about Grace Kelly. I knew the people loved their monarchs but she obviously touched them in a very special way. Apart from that, the views from the headland were amazing, looking into the crystal clear and iridescent blue waters of the Mediterranean from grassed parklands with fountains and artwork scattered throughout. All up, an amazing country for it’s beauty and tradition just as much as for it’s wealth and fanfare.

Discovering Nice was next on the cards, with a walk through those narrow lanes and street stalls I love so much in the Old Quarter and then up Castle Hill to the old Roman keep at the top. The majority of the buildings were demolished in the 18th Century and are being slowly re-discovered through archaeological digs, but the main Bastion looking out over the town survived and is now a popular lookout providing vistas from the sea, across beaches and city, to the escarpment beyond.. You can even see where a cannonball hit the main wall causing an enormous dent in the fortifications.

Zigzagging down the front face towards the beaches, it was an excellent day for a stroll down the promenade admiring the regeneration that has been taking place on the waterfront. Buildings have been cleaned up, streets with decorative median strips and a nice wide walk and cycle way following the shoreline where mini tourist trains cart passengers between the public and the private beaches that alternate along the coast. If it wasn’t for those damn rocks I would have spent longer just basking in the splendour of the Mediterranean lifestyle.

”Everything is funny if you wait long enough." - Anonymous

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Comments

[amy denning]

hmmmm
i'm actually impressed that u even bothered to think up a plan B!!!!! pity it didn't go to smoothly :( but looks like you're having a ball! :)

[Dechanel Nzambi]

vive marseille
i like this beach it so nice .i love the nature the sea is so beautiful yea love it by Dechanelson depuis les U.s