Cannes you hand me that Nice picture from Monaco?

 
There is something that is very very attractive about the French way of life. The bread, wine, cuisine, la vie quotidienne...and all of the vacation time! A few weeks ago (Oct. 29 - Nov. 2), I was out of school for les vacances de la toussaint. So, instead of having zero days off of work to enjoy the Halloween festivities, we had an entire week off to celebrate the normally Catholic holiday of All Saints. To spare you the history lesson here, the day of All Saint's Day comes after All Hallow's Eve...or...Halloween. You can read up more about how the modern day tradition stems from Celtic origins and how the RCC incorporated pagan holy days into Catholic holidays. Soap box warning here....For those of you who are equally as inquisitive as I am, it is worth thinking about how the former pagan holidays turned religious/Catholic then were adopted by protestants and turned into pagan festivals again. Now, instead of worshiping nature and its change of seasons, such as harvest time, or worshiping canonized church officials, or worshiping what advertising executives call the target demographic object, modern society (France as well) has been worshiping at the feet of the commercial gods in the name of affluence and material happiness. So it seems like the holidays are now pagan again and man has come full circle...which is also a pagan symbol of the completion of cycles like that of the fall harvest. Really, I think someone should write an article about this not so obvious occurrence.. I could go on, but we'll save that for some other time.

Back to the Nice trip and the original purpose of this post. We spent five nights in Nice with a friend of the host mom of the Rotary scholar who is studying in Nice on the French Riviera. We took two day trips during our time there, Cannes and the Principality of Monaco. The train ride was valuable in itself. As our train traced the outline of the coast, one could easily see why so many decide to either visit or stay - with a significant number in favor of the latter. When our train arrived in Marseilles, we stopped just outside the town to let some daily passengers off around a residential area, and you could just get a glimpse of the Mediterranean. The moment you see it for the first time in the sun it is sure to take your breath away. Like that of a magnificent cathedral of blue light that is just hidden behind a large building, it jumps out at you, and if you were not sitting already it is sure to weaken your knees. However, the favorable conditions outside were sure not to last. The weather book-ended our stay. The day we arrived it rained, and the cold front seemed to have hitched a ride in the diner car of the train because everyone said that it hadn't been rainy or cold like that all year until the afternoon we arrived. Despite the weather, our host was as warm as one would imagine the Mediterranean sun to be. The first day, we spent the afternoon discovering the area around the old town of Nice. Even while it was rainy, we decided to go to the beach which is covered by small, smooth stones instead of sand. Having been raised in a landlocked country, North Texas, I never knew how therapeutic the water could actually be. The pulsating waves of the sea can take stress, frustration, or anger away with each soft crash against the shores. It's almost like the gentle force of its rhythm gradually changes one's rough edges with successive but sure collisions, leaving those who hang around as smooth as the stones on the beach.

(Note from Julie):  Not sure if all of you know this story, but on one of our train rides the last time we were living in France, we became the adopted caretakers of a group of 3 small French children until we could deliver them safely to their destination-- their grandmother must have decided we looked like a safe enough couple, and she left them in our care for the duration of the train ride.  Well, on our trip to Nice, Mark adopted a sweet little old lady for the ride, but it was more of an accident this time.  She boarded the train and had reserved the seat directly across from us.  She was petite, with short gray hair and small round glasses, and she was absolutely terrified of leaving her bag in the luggage area-- apparently her bag had been stolen before on this same train trip.  So, Mark offered to lift her bag to one of the storage racks above the seats, and when she found out we were also traveling as far as Nice, her face lit up, and Mark became her caretaker for the remainder of our trip-- she would make polite comments about the weather on each stop along the way, and she engaged Mark in small talk each time he was not listening to today's hottest jams on his IPOD.  They communicated well; I was impressed at Mark's ability to do the small talk thing in French.  Once we arrived in Nice, Mark helped her get her bag safely off the train, and once we were outside, we saw a lot of people having trouble because there are only stairs to descend from the platform at the Nice train station.  Mark, being the southern gentleman that he is, could not stand to see all these elderly men and women struggling to get their bags down.  So, he took charge and just started walking up to people and carrying their bags-- they were all a little surprised and extremely thrilled to have his help; I wish I had the sight on camera.  They all had the cutest reactions, and I bet Mark carried at least 5 or 6 big suitcases down those stairs.  It was a sight to see, and I loved taking note of all the people's reactions-- I guess not too many people stop to help those around them here.

Here are some photos from our first moments in the city:

This is an evening view from our host family's home-- sorry for the poor photo, but you get the idea.

Another view, panoramic this time, from the living room window

Okay, so this picture has a great story.  After dinner on our first night, we headed out to meet up with Shar-Né, our friend and scholar in Nice.  We decided to have a taste of delicious Italian gelatto and enjoy a late night chat in a beautiful square in the Vielle Ville part of the city.  While Julie was enjoying her delicious cactus gelatto, and chatting with Shar-Né, I was observing one of the most humorous scenes we have been witness to on our trip thus far.  I had to interrupt and point these guys out to them.  These three men were obviously begging for money from passers-by, which is certainly not an uncommon practice here.  Each time you enter the metro you are sure to encounter at least one accordion performance, karaoke singer, or some other form of forced "entertainment" to try and entice money from you.  However, these guys had figured something out-- it is all about location!  They were sitting next to an ATM machine, and they would just chat with one another and enjoy each other's company until someone approached to withdraw money.  As soon as they would see people heading for the ATM, they would begin playing guitar and singing their hearts out, in an effort to be on the receiving end of some of that cash.  Think about it-- you can't tell them you have no money, because they just witnessed you withdrawing cash!  And they were sure not to waste their talents until the moment for a paying audience would come along.  We enjoyed watching this spectacle for quite some time that evening.

This is a lovely fountain in one of the most popular squares in Nice called Masséna

Julie and I standing before the sea on the Promenade des Anglais

Palais de la Mediterranean

The beautiful and famous Negresco Hotel

Skipping stones in the Mediterranean

Got pretty good at it by the time we left!

Thumbs up for a Nice time!

Tasty shrimp salad for Julie's entrée-- such fresh food!!

Beautiful view of the sea-- we were completely consumed by its vastness

Shar-Né and Julie- cold weather don't stop nous!

Julie and I, with a gorgeous golden horizon-- the sunsets were stunning every night.

At the day's funeral, this guy is being reborn.

Nice by night...or eh...Night by Nice..or..eu it was nice to be in Nice at night.

The next day we got on the bus that morning (not bragging here, but the fare to go to Cannes was only 1 Euro...which is like 856 dollars....which is also like 2 gallons of gas) and went to Cannes, France.  (Julie's input):  The bus ride ended up taking a lot longer than we expected (but, again, we couldn't complain since the price was only 1 euro), but once we arrived we discovered that it was well worth the trip.  We walked along the port, where the wealthy park their yachts, and had a glimpse into the lives of the privileged.  Shar-Né, our Rotary scholar friend we were visiting, commented, "So this is how the other half lives!"  After our stroll through the yachts, we lunched (feeling richer effect), and then took a train ride through the city.  It was perfect weather, and we enjoyed the opportunity to be complete tourists for a little while-- we spend so much of our time working on assimilating and trying to live the life of the French that we do not often play the role of tourists.  We saw the famous Carlton and Martinez hotels where all the film festival stars stay, we traveled along the old town and historic shopping streets, and we ended back on the boardwalk along the beach.  There was a lovely group of feisty women from Vermont behind us on the train ride, and of course they all loved visiting with Mark (actually, they enjoyed visiting with all of us, but I swear little old ladies have a thing for Mark).  After the train ride, Mark had to fulfill his dream of swimming in the Mediterranean, despite it being cold enough for a coat and scarf out.  He truly is a mad man sometimes, but I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way.  The photos do a better job of describing our adventures:

Julie had to have a photo of the little guard dog on this yacht-- see the sleeping French bulldog?  It was so bizarre to see signs telling people not to board; apparently some tourists think they have the right to climb aboard some of the yachts and take a look around when no one is watching (probably a dense side effect of that richer feeling that people get as they sip the wine and lunch wherever they please).  We even saw one family being escorted back down a ramp by an angry-looking yacht owner-- not sure why people would attempt to board someone else's private property, but I have to admit, they did look pretty boardable.

My hand is bigger than Jack Nicholson's!! All yachts and no cash makes Mark a dull boy!

The palm trees make it seem like paradise

View from on top of a hill, where we were allowed to explore for a few moments along our touristic train ride

Have boat will sail...

Julie and I atop the hill.

Finally got to cross this off my bucket list-- swimming in the Mediterranean-- even though the water is near freezing

Yea, I did it!!  And it felt great!  Cold? yes. Awesome? more yes.

Contrast photo-- Julie is comfortable in her warm coat and scarf, and Mark is wearing his wet, cold bathing suit!  (Side note from Julie):  I will avoid making speedo jokes from our adventures in Nantes, but I will point out that apparently American swim trunks were permissible for swimming in the ocean.  However, they were not the popular attire of choice by those crazy enough to be wading and/or sunbathing in the chilly weather on this particular day.  No worries; Mark managed to get fully clothed again without incident, so the swimming adventure went off without a hitch!

He spent the afternoon looking for a good time like we did too!

The famous Carlton Hotel

We stumbled upon a very interesting art gallery at the end of our trip-- these French bulldogs were Julie's favorite

More from the front of the gallery

Had to have a man beer before our train departed-- just happened to pose in front of the Love Shop, while leaning on a dumpster outside the train station.  Trashy? A little Classy? Always.

This photo is one of the many murals of stars painted on buildings all over Cannes.  This one is mostly for my sister Rebecca; Julie insisted I take it for her.  Cannes is, of course, famous for the annual film festival held there, and there are stars' faces painted everywhere.

Our third day, we decided to take advantage of another extremely affordable day trip (love those one euro bus rides!) and head to the Principality of Monaco.  We explored the city, stumbled upon the changing of the guard outside the Prince's Palace, and discovered that Nicole Kidman was in town shooting scenes for a film about Grace Kelly! We left a message with the garçon for Nikki (that's what I call her) to lunch with us, but she was busy with Spielberg and Bruckheimer. We didn't happen to bump into her, but she said she would holla back.  Here are photos from this segment of our trip:

We stumbled upon a fresh farmer's market immediately after exiting the bus!

Panoramic view on our way up to the Prince's Palace

Julie and I, about halfway up to the top of the hill

View of the port from the top

Aww, cute little kids playing on the cannonballs of a monument near the palace

(From Julie):  So, Shar-Né and I were observing those kids playing, and took a photo, and then turn around and see Mark sitting on top of this one, smiling even bigger than the kids were.  There really is never a dull moment with him.

Shar-Né made a new friend on our visit!

This is supposed to be 'Mark and Julie heart Monaco', but is actually 'Mark and Julie spleen Monaco'!!

Posing in one of the race cars around the port; Monaco is famous for the great Grand-Prix car racing event that takes place here every year.

Side view of the Monte-Carlo

Julie having fun with some outdoor sculptures - Las Meninas anyone?

Front view of the Monte-Carlo casino; Julie wants to bring her sister-in-law Sarah here.  Sarah always wins; she might hit it big in Monaco! Which is also what I thought when I got the message that Nikki was in town, but alas, it did not happen this time.

View of the square in front of the casino

Feeling lucky?

Le Monte Carlo

I parked it here because of the ease of access and Nikki doesn't like to walk far.

Julie, with the casino in the distance

This shot is from our bus ride back into Nice-- the bus rides alone were well worth the day trips we took. Again, they only cost one euro but they are priceless.

After we arrived back in Nice Ville from Monaco, Julie and I set out to discover this beautiful Russian church (see below) located in the city.  It is unlike any of the other cathedrals and churches we have seen on any of our European adventures, and we were in awe of its beauty once we finally found it.

View of the front of the Russian church

This is the Notre Dame Cathedral of Nice, at night.

(From Julie): Shar-Né's host mom, Isabelle, invited us for dinner one evening.  This is a photo of Isabelle, Shar-Né, another student living with her named Kyle, and myself at dinner.  We had such a wonderful time; Isabelle is a fabulous woman-- she is full of energy and loves to laugh.  She has such a sense of humor, and we felt completely comfortable in her home from the moment we first stepped through the door.  When she left the table between the first course of dinner and the second, Mark commented, "She's a pistol!"  and his description is spot on.  Our lives were enriched just by spending a few hours with her; I can't wait to hear Shar-Né's stories after living with her for an entire year.

After-dinner activities chez Isabelle included a vigorous hunt for a pesky moustique (mosquito), because they enjoy buzzing in the ears of Isabelle and her residents, which does not allow for much sleep at night. This was a spectacle, and I am glad I was able to snap a photo to capture it. Texan: Dat skeeter didn't stand a chance.

On our last day in Nice, it was rainy once again, and windy enough for our host mom to caution us not to go near the sea, for fear of getting swept up in the waves.  We walked though the Old Town once more, and had a traditional lunch of daube (like a meat and vegetable roast/stew, except more flavorful - it tasted like Sunday lunch at your grandmother's house) and pasta.  Then we were simply walking through the streets aimlessly, trying to avoid the merciless wind that was determined to destroy Julie's green Irish umbrella (and indeed, the wind would win that violent battle; Julie's parapluie, along with the remains of at least 30 others owned by various pedestrians throughout the cold and windy day, would be laid to rest in a Nice poubelle on the walk home from our late night adventure described below-- it was a bloody day for umbrellas) and stumbled upon this beautiful palace.  We were able to enter free of charge, so we headed in to explore a bit.  Here are a couple of photos from one of our favorite rooms:

Our last day in Nice also happened to be Halloween, so we were invited to the Rotaract Club of Nice, along with Shar-Né, to a semi-costume themed dinner party:

Shar-Né and myself, posing before the dinner

Our delicious spooky apertifs

Ta-da, the two people who actually came in costume (Julie and I were not aware it was a costume party until the day before; otherwise, we might have made more of an effort).

Smoked salmon served on something like a lemon soaked pancake, and salad.  It was delicious.

Julie opted for the canard, shown here on a bed of steamed vegetables and served with mashed potatoes topped with cherry tomatoes.  The cherry tomatoes are becoming quite popular in France; they like them because they add to the beauty of the presentation of the cuisine.

I chose a second round of salmon, this time oven baked and served with herbal rice also known as a side of tasty.

Dessert was the most fun!  Our spooky sweets consisted of a chocolate Napoleon, topped with chocolate sauce, pop rocks and a gummy spider, served alongside of a gummy snake topped with whipped cream.  The Rotaract members were totally freaked out by the poprocks; apparently they had never had them before, so watching their reactions as they tried to eat their desserts was priceless.

Et voila!  A final photo of Julie, myself and Shar-Né.  We headed back to Lyon early the following morning, after being out until about 1:00 a.m, which is like the next day!  And then, wouldn't you know it, our train broke down on the trip home, so it took 5 and a half hours to get back, rather than 4.  Needless to say, we were completely exhausted and spent a few days recuperating. 

(Footnote from Julie):  Before ending this post, I want to add a little more about our cuisine.  Something we do not talk about enough is the food over here.  Since we stayed with a host mom in Nice, we were able to profit from eating dinner with her on three of the five nights we were there.  Here is the menu from each meal:  

Night 1:  2 mini croque monsieurs served on a bed of salad, followed by baked rabbit served in a tomato- based sauce (we ate it served over pasta), assortment of cheeses and bread, and raspberry mousse layered tarte for dessert.

Night 2:  Rosé wine, ham, broccoli and cheese quiche, followed by roasted chicken, seasoned scalloped potatoes baked in the oven, and seasoned zucchini, with large, fresh grapes for dessert. 

Night 3:  Rosé wine, ham and cheese galettes (a savory crepe rolled very thinly), followed by rare roast beef, garlic and parsley green beans, fried seasoned scalloped potatoes, and Provencale tomatoes, followed by tarte tatin with fresh whipped cream for dessert (this is like upside down apple pie; c'est délicieux!!)

Brigitte, our host mom, insisted she was not a very talented cook, but the meals were incredible. It was like she would bring something out and say, "This is simple and not much," but I would say, "delicious!" It's almost like their food is accidentally awesome and yumyum. In comparison to meals in the U.S., which seem more like they are survival based (eat quick, serve everything on one plate, get back to work), the French meals are more like art (multiple courses served while taking much care in the presentation of the food, taking your time in between each course, with much conversation and wine).  During each meal we have had amongst the French, we learn more about their culture and see more clearly into their lives than we could ever learn sitting at a desk in a classroom.  At Brigitte's, we had three courses each night, and these were not particularly special meals-- just every day cuisine.  We ate similarly each night during the month of August while living with Dorothea.  In addition, the food is so much more fresh than buying it at a large supermarket at home.  We eat very well here, and I am enjoying the freedom I have to spend time on cooking more meals since I am not overwhelmed with coursework each day like I was in Nantes.  Granted, I am not an incredible cook, but even if a meal doesn't turn out like I expect I still enjoy experimenting-- hopefully I'll be a little better at it by the time we leave!

Stressed? Listen and watch and feel your worries be washed away by the creation of the Ancient of Days: