to Paris

We wake up to a cloudy day. Oh, Nice is slated to have plenty of sunshine in the days ahead. Lovely temperatures as well -- certainly nicer than what we will have in Paris, but still, it does feel like the skies have shut their doors, at least temporarily, to all that sunshine that was our friend for three days running.

It's good to leave a place right after breakfast. Those trips where I'd have half a day to explore before taking off were always unrewarding. I'd take that extra walk gauging the minutes, not really letting myself feel part of my surroundings anymore, thinking of the travel that was ahead. And so on this day too, I booked a flight to Paris that has us leaving our hotel shortly after breakfast.

(down the splendid stairs -- with a yawn!)

 

 

(a plate of favorites)

 

 

(a plate of favorites)

 

 

 (one last Negresco cappuccino)

 

 

Yes, booked a flight, which has to be strange, considering how much I love train rides. It's just that the train ride from Nice to Paris is just that much too long. Six and a half hours, and there's a change involved -- never great when you have lots of luggage and a kid to mind. Alone, you can miss your connection and figure out an alternative. With Snowdrop in tow, it becomes more of a headache. Besides, I've accumulated enough miles to give us a free flight. A little over an hour and we're in Paris.

Well, Paris airport -- not a favorite place to arrive at for sure. Splurging on a cab does you no favors: it's a very stop-and-go ride in afternoon traffic. I much prefer the commuter train (even when their are delays as today), so we make our way to it and eventually we are in the city...

 

 

 

(so green! so many interesting dogs!) 

 

 

... and walking to Le Baume hotel -- the incredibly lovely home of mine for all my trips to this city. The place where every minute is an exhale, a joy, a thrill really. I have my favorite two rooms -- I'll take either, they both have three big windows that look out on the street. They're both splendid.

(What happened to lunch today? Well, we helped ourselves to a couple of almond croissants from downstairs)

 

 

(Snowdrop and I always use the stairs when we leave; we've always admired the photos on the stairwell walls, but we'd never noticed that "Odette" was with a "petit chien" who looks remarkably like a dog we know back home)

 

This is when travel starts to be easy. No stress, no pressure. Walk this way, or that -- each direction brings a mix of the familiar with the new. How can you not love days here?!

I was surprised to read at the airport that one of the museums here is having a Matisse exhibition, featuring some of the better known work of his -- the lemons, for example, that have been feature prominently in my guest room, from farmhouse to the Edge, and now in Sally's House. It would be great to cap our Matisse exploration here in Paris, but I am actually too late. The exhibition is new and not surprisingly, all tickets for our dates are sold out.

We have other museum plans, but not for today. I unpack, we rest a bit, and then head out to the Luxembourg Gardens. Just to see what's blooming there now in March.

 

 

(we seek out the corner with daffodils... yes! they're here!)

 

 

Afterwards, we stop at a store to get pj's for Sandpiper. Dont ask -- it's a long story. 

We have a dinner reservation for 7 p.m. but we're right by our chosen restaurant a half hour before that. As luck would have it, they're one of those places where they dont close between lunch and dinner. I can count such restaurants here on the fingers of one hand, and yet here we are, at Seulement Sea, at 6:30 and it's open. She loves this place for its oysters and fish and chips. It's one of those reliable eateries that wont cost a fortune and will deliver fresh seafood every time. 

We walk back with our jackets zipped to our chins! It's nippy in Paris! Just 50F/10C at its peak. Some would say -- well, that's entirely reasonable for March. And it is, though Paris has had warmer days on Spring Break. But I have no complaints! We were to have rain all days here -- now the weather people are changing their minds. And in any case, I have said this too often -- rain in Paris is fine. Interesting even. A little awkward if you walk the more populated streets, but I have very many quite corners in the city, where no one will feel an umbrella bump. 

We are home. 

 

 

 

Back in our room again. Warm, quiet, beautiful. Content. At peace.

with so much love... 

sunshine in Nice

You could think of this day as a culmination of sorts. All yearnings for spring, for warm sunshine and glorious skies realized at last. Certainly for our travels, it is the finest in a string of fine days. Temps soaring to 71F/22C, the sea showing off its splendid colors, our moods swelling with exuberance. 

It is also the last of the warm sunny days. And the end of our Nice visit. The final glory before the return to the typical highly erratic March weather. 

Let's not worry about what's to come. Right now, we are enjoying the best of the best.

 

 

What to do on a day like this? I offered two museums (Chagall, Matisse). Or, a walk through the old town and a revisit of the market. Or another excursion out of town. To Italy perhaps? To Cap Ferrat? Snowdrop chose the market and old town and I'm glad she did. It's my preference too. I want a repeat of the good rather than a new adventure. Finish off with known pleasures. Delight in what's nearby.

Breakfast first.

 

 

We always walk down the six flights, admiring and criticizing the art on the walls of this hotel. We like our fifth floor modern mix. We find the French Empire style floor to be okay. We positively hate the second floor abstract, depicting weird figures in what seem to be tortured poses.

Coming back up, we take the elevator. It dates back to the first years of the hotel and I tell her it is definitely haunted. Weird noises, creaks, groans -- definitely inhabited by a ghost. I dont think she believes me!

 

 

 

Our walk is lovely -- along the coast, always commenting on the dogs we pass, me noticing especially all the older folks with their pooches.

 

 

 

The market is of course popping with color on a sunny day.

 

 

 

 

 

We pick up some strawberries again (which she polishes off in five seconds on our return).

 

 

 

Snowdrop loved the artisanal ice cream shop in the old town. We return to it, and of course, I have to have that raspberry chocolate concoction. She stays with... chocolate!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have only one errand: my reading glasses at home -- ones that I love, that I got at Izipizi in Paris one time, are held together by a paper clip. I need a replacement -- ones that are a bit stronger! And there is an Izipizi store here. She picks them out for me: dark green, gaga! They look great on you! Could I maybe get sunglasses here?

 

 

 

And home again. To the Negresco.

 

 

In time for her to catch the two hour swim period they allocate for kids.

With the late afternoon, I suggested we reconsider the art museum. Matisse is entirely doable in a short period and it offers a nice segue from the Impressionism to modern art. We taxi over with just time enough to go through it before it closes. (The museum is up in the hills and I am not looking for an hour long uphill walk!)

The museum itself is part of a beautiful villa -- not his home, but one close to it (He lived at the Hotel Regina for a chunk of his life and I should note also that he did call Nice his home for most of his adult years: the majority of his artwork was created in Nice). 

Did she like it? Some yes, some less so. Matisse's work with paper is totally agreeable.

And some paintings are also very approachable and appealing. 

Other stuff -- well, opinions vary!

 

 

 

(outside, the men play boules in the courtyard next to a mobile by Alexander Calder)

 

 

We walk back to our hotel -- a slightly shorter hike of 50 minutes. Oh, but the wind! Is it the Mistral? I don't know, but it surely is fierce, especially at the higher elevations. Still, we persevere!

 

And now I really have to motivate myself to pack. Not an easy job: our various trinkets, of course, but, too, we have to separate the stuff for Paris from the stuff for the washing machine back home. 

It's a slow process. And I have to pause for dinner. 

I'd picked Le Sejour some time ago and honestly, I do not remember why or on whose recommendation.

It was modern, it was crowded, with plenty of French people, it was fresh, it was great. Predictably, she ordered the sea bass. Second time today (she'd eaten a chunk of it at the hotel for lunch). Ah well, it's her favorite and she rarely (never?) gets it back in Madison.

Again, we skip the desserts and head for Amorino. 

 

 

Only for Snowdrop -- me, I have to plow through all the macaron the hotel gifted us. With a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, which I will pack up and take home.

Pack up... I haven't finished that job yet! Our bedtime will be pushed toward the late hour once again. But, as Snowdrop keeps reminding me -- it's vacation! Spring break!

Tomorrow, we head for Paris.

with so much love... 

sunshine in Provence

You forget that when in Nice you are actually in Provence. (Nice is part of the Provence-Alpes-Cote d'Azur region of France.) I suppose a light bulb flashes if you enter souvenir shops where lavender goods abound. But honestly, Nice is more about the sea than about lavender fields. Palm trees rather than olive groves and Mediterranean forests. It would be a shame to be here and not venture a little deeper into the hills that gently (and not so gently!) descend into the city. We need to explore a little off coast. In picking a hill town to visit, I was of course going to pay attention to distance and ease of transportation. I thought Eze, with its Medieval fortifications and structures might fit the bill: just a 15 minute train ride toward Monaco and Italy, it's easy to get to. At least to get to the station of Eze. From there you have to either drive or hike up the hill to the old town. Good enough!

And it is one beautiful sunny day again. Perfect for an outing.

Breakfast first.

 

A digestive pause, and then we walk to the train station. 

 (it gives me great joy to see so many very old people with dogs here)

 

 (do note the attire of the woman above and of Snowdrop below)

 

I tell her to consider taking a jacket. If it's to be a high of 61F/16C in Eze, the climb up may be breezy. She listens indulgently, skips the long pants, forgoes the jacket. Me, I take mine. And let me say straight away that she was right and I was so wrong. I wore my jacket only the last 5 minutes of our day-long trip. In the remaining hours, I sweated, even though we both had short sleeves.

 

Here's the thing about Eze: I'd never been there. A bit surprising, considering how much time I've spent on the coast here, but really, there are so many interesting towns that beg for a visit that somehow I passed this one by. In my pretrip research though, it seemed perfect. Even the walk up to the cliff-top village from the train station (estimated to take 1 hour) seemed like a clever idea for an outing with an 11 year old. (I forgot about the part where she is accompanied by an almost 73-year old.)

Trains to Eze are frequent. It's one of the stops en route to the much visited Monaco. I would guess that in the high season the trip can be crowded and unpleasant. But today? Perfection itself. Few people, gorgeous weather.

(oh, but would my farmette bougainvillea grow this dense with flowers!)

 

 

You dont have to do the one hour trek up to the old village. A bus can zip you up in no time,  and indeed, very few people climb up. Some take the bus up and do the walk down. An entirely reasonable approach. But I'd read somewhere online the account of a woman with reasonably young kids doing the hike. I think now that she was showing off. 

Looking up, I knew this would be a challenge. And it was.

The views were splendid! The vegetation -- lovely. But the climb up was steep, rocky and never-ending. 

(not even a tenth of the way up yet...)

The air was still, the sun seemed hot. I'd taken only one small bottle of water which we had to ration for the duration. My walking shoes were much too slick for stones that were worn down to a smooth surface. I didn't have my poles. So, not the best prep for this kind of a hike! The girl cheered me on -- come on, gogs! you can do this! I wistfully thought back to my last mountain hike with her nearly 4 years ago, near Lago d'Orta: she was 7 then and unsure of herself. Now? Well, let's just say she had to pause a bunch to allow me to catch up.

But, ah the satisfaction of reaching the top! Of finding a booth with cold water for sale! Of doing it all on this most beautiful day! 

It was nearly 1 p.m. and we were both hungry. I'd not done a lot of reading about this village, but I knew they had gardens worth visiting and views that would leave you gasping. But first, lunch -- which had us walking around the narrow streets in search of a place to sit down and find comfort in food.

We were lucky: we came across Le Nid d'Aigle (the Eagle's Nest), with its outdoor tables stuck in various available corners of a widening cobbled street. She ordered fish and fries, I ordered a mushroom omelette. I added to it a "mimosa prosecco," just because the occasion called for it.

I dont know how to describe that feeling of pure contentment that comes after an exertion, when you are finally resting, awaiting food, when the sun dapples you with its warmth, when your hiking companion is pleased as punch with our accomplishments. I heard words from her like chill and boss, but I do not think that they do this justice. It was one of those perfect moments. One to remember. 

From there, it was a short stroll (up, of course) to the lookout point and to the Jardins Exotiques. 

And what gardens they were! Cacti, blooming. Succulents, and flowers that seemed artificial in their neon brightness. 

 

 

And the views! Oh, the views! Down toward Cap Ferrat, toward Nice airport and beyond, but more importantly, toward those azure waters of the Mediterranean. Calm, smiling almost, with that self satisfied air of realizing its own beauty.

I no longer buy souvenirs from my trips. What for, when I often dont remember where they came from or what prompted me to buy the item. Carting back more stuff is the last thing I want to do. And yet, here in Eze, I succumbed. It was a small shop with some dishes and ceramics by Gien. I often visit the Gien shop in Paris, just to admire its beautiful china, but I'd never seen the stuff I am now seeing up here in Eze. Including tiny serving plates portraying the colors and flowers of Nice, of Eze. This trip was important. It deserved a few items, including yes, a mini pillow for the couch! (Me and my pillows!)

Madame at the store was ever so helpful as I asked her about one item or another, comparing, considering each beautiful piece. As she packed away my two items, she asked -- are you a professor of French? It was the greatest compliment that I'd ever received for my conversations here! Just for that, I threw in another small pillow! It's worth it, all of it! The travel back with two plates and two pillows. The very exhausting flights to get here. The years of trying to improve my French skills. The hike up, for this moment in the store, where the shop keeper makes me feel like I'd arrived at some point of affirmation. I can do this: climb mountains, travel with my grandchild, speak French. And feel so grateful for it all.

 

I ask Snowdrop if she wants to take the bus down. She doesn't! She wants to hike! Well, my smooth shoes aren't going to make this easy, but then, why go for the easy when a challenge can give you so many rewards!

(almost there!)

We take the train back to Nice.

And dinner tonight? After not liking my choice for last night, I decided to scratch off my idea for tonight. Some reviewers had liked it, but now I see many reviews are not so hot. I'm not wanting another meh dish of food. I turn to the hotel for help and they point me to the Nespo. 

It's more expensive than my own selections, so there's that. Or maybe it's that we both ordered appetizers and main courses so it seemed that way. But I have to say, the hotel was spot on: the menu had what is a Nice favorite: fried zucchini flowers. Of course we both wanted that! Chomped down in a flash!

Then her favorite fish (sea bass), nicely filleted, with baby tomatoes, olives, and shrads of artichoke. We shared broccolini and she added fries to her meal.

All absolutely excellent. Not a drop of food left on either plate.

We don't order desserts at dinnertime. Saves money and time and besides, nothing makes her happier than a walk over to Amorino's for their ice cream.

I've had so much solo travel in my life! Much of it was great, wonderful, memorable. Some -- well, perhaps less so. In thinking back to this day, to this trip actually, I have to admit that not much of it would have been great, wonderful, memorable without the enthusiastic, cheerful presence of Snowdrop. There are some adventures that just beg to be shared. Zucchini flowers that wont be enjoyed alone. Hikes up a mountain that are hard to delight in when no one cares if you make it to the top. It remains the case that I love nearly all the trips I've taken, because loneliness can have its comforting glow as well. You are with yourself. You observe, rather than participate in the tumult around you. This can be quite rewarding. Pleasant even. But today? It was made good by the two of us scrambling up that rocky incline. All those steps, one in front of the other.

with so much love...