Neece is Nice

Nice

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September 23, 2007

By Dan

Note:  we're way behind on our entries, as the hard drive on our laptop appears to have died.  As I write this, we have arrived happily in Tuscany.  To bring you up to date:

We left the No-Tell Motel near the Pont du Gard on Sunday the 16th of September, planning to get as far as Nice.  The roads were pleasant, but we again were struck by how Provence just wasn't nearly as pretty as the rest of the places we have been seeing.  How that's for getting spoiled?  Seeing a sign for Les Baux, I reminisced about a stop there during college days, and C reported that the guidebook called it one of France's biggest tourist destinations.  After some debate, we decided to defer our beach time and go see Les Baux - A gets credit for pushing us in that direction.

Enjoying the Med

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Les Baux is a bunch of ruins of old forts, castle, and a village perched on top of a rocky mountain.  The somewhat spooky rocky valley you drive up apparently inspired Dante in his description of the entrance to Hell and Van Gogh too found lots of inspiration in the area (it was near the loony bin where he spent time).  There is a very nice, old village with tasteful art shops, etc. that must be traversed to get to the forts.  From the top, the views are magnificent in all directions.  They were demonstrating the operation of a trebuchet, a medieval sort of giant slingshot, and I ended up spending 20 minutes as part of the demo team.  It was cool picturing marauding Moors, etc. high on this mountain top.

On to Nice, where we found a dumpy hotel that was, at least, right across from the beach with a great view of the Med.  G earned his choice of "anything on the menu" for dinner by volunteering to sleep on the floor.  (Note:  he ended up with a swollen spider bite on his hand as a result of his kind act, but he was sure well fed - paella and creme brulee).  We spent a very pleasant few hours on the rocky beach.  The kids had both been very intrigued by our alerts regarding the more accelerated state of undress for which French beaches and especially those of the Cote d'Azur are famous.  As expected, they quickly found better things to do.  We enjoyed watching: the grouchy fisherman who was working 3 lines on a crowded beach, shouting at anyone who dared to go near his stuff; the old man who changed from his swimsuit and dried off in his undies; and the incredibly focused tanning techniques of our neighbors on the beach.

Eze

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Our last dinner in France was a great one, in a square filled with restaurants featuring outdoor seating. It seemed a perfect collision of French, Italian, and seafood which left A salivating at the prospect of 3 weeks of pasta, G wondering how to maximize his fish intake, and C and I happily absorbing the cool vibes.  The line of the night, though, came from Abby as she was checking out the shops on the way home, "What's all this stuff about "nice" around here?  Can't they say anything else about this place?"  She, of course, thought that we were in "Neece".

I'm not the only one who gets to lead pilgrimmages to places loved long ago.  The next morning, after a final croissant-binge (best ones yet, G ate 5!), we made our first stop at Eze, a place loved by C (and her good friend, Mary Snell).  Spectacular views and cool streets - it lived up to expectations.  And, I ran into my old colleague from Bechtel days, Emmanuel, who was there visiting with his family. 

From there, we moved on to Italy, passing through Monaco on the way so the kids could pit another country notch on their belts.