La Plage

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I spent the beginning of my one full day in Nice walking most of the way down and back along the Promenade des Anglais. I don’t know what the English have to do with anything, but the promenade runs along and just above the beach and is quite long (it took me close to 2 hours round trip). During the moments when I could manage to tear my eyes away from the gorgeous Mediterranean waters I noticed that the activity on the beach was quite different than one would find in the US. Or perhaps I should say the lack of activity. Whereas on an American beach you would have a healthy mix of people swimming/playing in the water, people playing on the beach and people lounging and soaking up the sun, in France it seems that the majority of the people opt for the latter. My estimate of the breakdown is 5% of the people in the water, 10% (all kids) playing on the beach and the remaining 85% just lying there on a towel or in a rented chair. Now this particular beach was composed mostly of smallish stones, so I could see why it wouldn’t be ideal for playing games. However, I can’t comprehend how so many people could resist the siren song of that beautiful, non-shark-infested water.

It seems that the French National Hobby for the months of July and August is getting a tan. Two of my roommates in the hostel spent the entirety of the day yesterday lying on the beach, tanning, the verb for which is bronzer (pronounced bronze-A for my non-francophone readers). Their plan for today was to do the same thing, just at another beach. Yes, the French sure love to bronzer, something that is very apparent in some of the older citizens, whose skin has taken on a permanent color that is some sort of mix between red, brown and orange. I am mildly disgusted looking at these people. Worse yet, the even older ones have, in addition, a skin texture that resembles leather. There is nothing mild about my disgust about having to see this. These people are apparently oblivious to such feelings, as they make a point to dress in a manner that reveals as much skin as possible. Between the tanning and the smoking I’m shocked that the French manage to live as long as they do. Maybe that red wine really is magical.

I suppose that the other major difference at the beach worth mentioning is the much-ballyhooed phenomenon of women sometimes choosing to go topless. Since I knew what to expect, it certainly was not shocking in anyway and it manifested itself how one might expect. Only a relatively small number of women chose the topless option and these were primarily middle-aged or older. Seeing it in France it came across as very banal, but I think that would change greatly the moment I was to see somebody I know joining in. I would find that uncomfortable, to say the least. Definitely not something I want catching on in America (not that there’s any remote chance of that happening). Aside: a Frenchman working at one of hostels had spent a lot of time in South America and told us that in Brazil the women wear swimsuits that are as small as the laws of physics allow, but if one of them were to go topless she would be considered a “whore.”

P.S. I threw in some other Nice pictures. There's more to it than just the beach.

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Photos

The Med
So sparkly

Come a Long Way, Baby
Start of the walk is off in the distance in the center of the frame.

Private Beach
No lying on rocks for these people

Promenade des Anglais
View from on high

Tree
It's a tree

Domed Building
Along the Promenade

MAMAC
An unholy union of MOMA and MOCA

Closed on Tuesdays
Apparently