At check-in we discovered the hostel was almost all anglophones. Weird, but whatever. In fact they said that there were only two French people on their entire staff. The majority were Aussies and Brits, but the majority of the hostel guests were Americans. It is actually ranked in the top ten hostels in all of Europe (and numero uno in France.) They are very proud of both of these accomplishments. Some of the cool things about this hostel that make it stand out from most, is its large common room that was always full of people talking, drinking, eating, drinking more, oh and drinking again (that's what happens with 1 Euro beers). It is in an old monastery so one entire wall is really colorful stained glass, although I doubt it is original because I think that it would be a bit too retro for Catholics. There are also about 12 or so computers that are on the walls with free access so we could actually stay in contact with the outside world. However, we did not usually use them (unlike some people) because we were there to be away from the outside world.
That night we headed up to our private double room which consisted of two twin beds, our own bathroom/shower, a closet, and a huge window looking out to the hills. Then it was off to bed because we planned to get up by 8:30- check out their "famous" 12 cereal breakfast, and set off to Nice itself. Well there was no soy milk so I could only have toast and endless amounts of coffee, but we were both able to get out of the place bright and early. At breakfast the hostel has people come around and talk to everyone to help them plan their days and give tips and advice. It was really nice. Chenault and I talked to a girl who spoke beautiful English but it was clear she was not a native speaker. When she got up to go get something we played the "guess her nationality game" which is always fun because there are so many foreigners all over Paris and Europe in general. We each got three guesses, but neither of us guessed the truth: German. Anyway...I digress. So we planned out our weekend in Nice/the Riviera and then set out to Old Nice and the sea! We strolled along the famous promenade des Anglais, that follows the shore, went to the Marché aux fleurs to look at all the nicoise/provencale goods, and then had some lunch. Lunch was a piece of this bread-like thing called socca. It is chick-pea flour and olive oil. Molto mediterranean. On our walk around the old area we discovered a beautiful opera house. So we figured we may as well check what was playing this weekend, could be fun! A special opera performance was to be held the next night that featured three Italian singers: an alto, baritone, and a soprano. Say no more, we bought tickets! It was to be Chenault's first opera at that. Then we basically meandered around Nice some more and headed to the train station to buy tickets for...Cannes! It is only a 30 minute train ride from Nice so we left immediately. As we stepped out of the Cannes station the sun had come out some more and it was not quite as windy. Cannes actually has a sandy beach, unlike the pebble ones everywhere else, so we joined many sunbathers for a few hours and lounged, read, and talked. It was great, and yes there were topless women and old men in Speedos. Nice/the Riviera is "the Florida of France" as my host family calls it, and our trip proved this label.
When it started to get a bit more brisk we took a walk along the port and oogled at the gorgeous yachts, the view of the coast, and the extraordinarily blue sea. Our goal was to have magnificent seafood and Chenault really wanted to have octopus if we could find it. So we started to hunt and browse the menus. When we got to a restaurant called "Chez Freddy" we decided to ask the woman where one might find octopus; however, we both had brain farts and forgot the word for it. What fun!
Chenault: It is like calamari...but not.
Me: It has 8 legs! (and I wiggled 8 fingers around to show her.)
Woman: Lagouste? (rock lobster)
Chenault: No, no, it starts with a "P" (that is all we remembered)
Woman: Escargot!
Us:............uh no.
Well eventually we got it: Poulpe! And she sent us to some restaurant "over there" that she thought had it. Had it, it did. We went to this adorable seafood restaurant called Quai 55. the waiter was so nice (what a change from Paris, haha...) and the food was great. We shared a pot of spicy mussels and then I got the octopus à la mediterranean (and it was not rubbery at all!) and Chenault got a tuna steak. Of course we shared it all. Afterwards we finished our macarons that we had bought previously from a pastry shop that I guess is in Paris too. We could not resist, the flavors sounded so cool. We got fig, apple cinnamon calvados, white chocolate with a hint of olive oil (delicious actually), passion fruit with basil and chocolate, one called a yling ylang (I forget what was in it but it was really yummy), and one more. After these festivities we caught a train back to Nice and headed back to our hostel. Chenault wanted to try the 1 Euro beer, which was of course crap, and we thought it would be fun to chill in the lounge for awhile. We met a bunch of American students but nothing spectacular so we went to bed. Monaco was up next.
No you do not need to go through border control or present your passport when you go into Monaco, even though it is a separate country. I wanted to get a stamp on my passport... The bus from Nice to Monaco is only 1 Euro each way, which was unbelievable. Monaco. Pristenely clean, gorgeous, luxurious, kind of Stepford Wives-like in some parts... At times it was eerily clean and empty. Where were the beggars from Paris, Nice, even Cannes? Where were the pushy businessmen? Where were the people in the train station (it was almost empty)? I still do not know... We walked along the coast and looked at the yachts there. The bus ride over had also given us a spectacular view of the coast, the hills, and the sea. What a beautiful place. (Even though it was quite windy and a bit nippy.) At last we headed to the famous Monte Carlo casino. Although Chenault is from Las Vegas she was in awe of the old 19th century casino's beauty (it appears in a couple of Bond movies etc.) And of course I had to gamble. I went to the slots and picked some weird machine where you had to press buttons, pick this, pick that, and have the thing "spin" (it was a computer screen). Well here is the out come, I put in 5 Euros on the first machine and wound up leaving with 41,55 Euros! I played 5 Euros in another machine but I lost it all. I got 31,55 Euros in THE Monte Carlo, so I cashed it in. (I still have not spent it.) After our excitement at the slots we headed back to Nice to get ready for the Opera. When we arrived at the Operahouse we found our nosebleed seats (they were only 15 Euro a piece). The inside of the building was gorgeous as so many of them are. It was done by Napoleon III as the couple next to us said. Well the couple next to us turned out to be some of the nicest people Chenault (and I) had ever met. Chenault mainly talked to them because she was next to them but I leaned in every now and then. They all bonded when she found out they loved Las Vegas and had done a lot of long drives through Western US and such. Their friendship took off. At the intermission the wife, and husband, insisted on buying us drinks so we all sat and talked for awhile. She was really bummed to hear we were leaving Nice the next morning because they have a summer house in Cannes that they were visiting and they would love for us to come visit. They were so genuine and kind. I would guess they were in their early 60s but they were truly interested in talking to Chenault and I. The opera was beautiful. It was even more special to think of the city we were in and the love for the arts that surrounded us. At the end of the opera, I saw the woman hand Chenault something as a souvenir. Many protests ensued but the woman insisted. When Chenault and I were on our way home later, only recounting that night's events, she showed me the 10 Euro that the woman gave her to "buy her parents something" or just to buy drinks for the two of us in order to "remember Nice." It was such a sweet gesture. She also got Chenault's address, because she does not have email, and told her that she would write one month before their next trip to the US. I think she was serious. How often do you get to listen to an aria by a young Italian soprano and make such a wonderful connection?! Go Chenault! After the 3 hour performance we headed straight home because we had to get up at 4:40 am to catch our 6:30 am flight back to Paris. Well we made it, but I was a zombie on Sunday. I went out for coffee with Cecile (Chloé's mom who was in Paris at the time), which was great, and then I went home to finish schoolwork and crash. Now I am writing on Tuesday April 28, 2009 and I realize that I have two weeks and one day left in Paris. I am not going anywhere, I am staying home (in Paris that is). But it is unbelievable. I leave two Thursdays from now....why?! As Cécile said, "Il faut rentrer." And this is true. I have a lot of work to finish between now and then to wrap things up but I feel that I have done so much that it would be hard to go home thinking "oh I wish I had done more." Paris is endless. It offers so much, and there will always be things I want to do or want to see. That just means I will have to come back soon.
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