Not the nicest beginning to our Nice trip.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 11:14 AM
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Not the nicest beginning to our Nice trip.
We left our home near Sacramento at 6 a.m. on Nov. 30th, got to Dallas okay, but arrived at Heathrow to discover that our connecting flight to Nice had been cancelled because of the terrible weather. After waiting in line for 2+ hours we reached a British Airways agent, and he was able to get us onto an Air France flight to Paris. Unfortunately, that flight left an hour late because of de-icing, which meant--of course--that we got to de Gaulle just in time to miss the connecting flight to Nice. So we had to sit around at the airport until 6 p.m., at which time we got on the flight to Nice but had another wait for de-icing. However, we were given food and drink coupons and had time to sample the offerings at the Maison du Chocolat. Boy, are they good!
We finally reached Nice at 9 p.m. (instead of 1:45), but to our dismay our luggage did not. Although it arrived (in 2 deliveries) 3 days later, we had to spend precious time buying clothes and a pair of walking shoes for my DH, not easy in unfamiliar surroundings. Since we had no idea where to shop for moderately priced stuff, we ended up buying at stores near our apartment—definitely not the best area for reasonable prices. A/F gave us overnight packs that consisted of toiletries and a big tee-shirt. My advice to anyone checking luggage these days is DON’T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT TRIP INSURANCE!
A very nice young guy from the shuttle service we’d reserved with waited patiently while we filled out all the AF forms, then took us from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1 (where our original flight would have landed) to pick up our apt. keys. We finally arrived at our destination at nearly 11 p.m. I slept like a log, but my DH was kept awake by a very lively party a few doors down.
This time around we decided to rent an apartment, and it was even better than I had hoped for. Perfect location, right next to the Parc Prince Albert (I rode on the carrousel one evening), one block to the Promenade des Anglais, and one block to the rue Masséna pedestrian zone containing our favorite restaurant, La Pizza. A SPAR market was half a block away, as were two good bakeries.
The apartment had a decent-sized living area with floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony, and even a sideways view of the Mediterranean. We had a great view of the park opposite and the huge Ferris wheel set up by the Place Masséna for the Christmas fair. The small but good kitchen had with all kinds of equipment and tableware—and a dishwasher. In the cupboards I found olive oil, spices and other seasonings, and all manner of things useful for cooking. The experience was more like staying in an absent friend’s house than in a rented apartment.
On the mezzanine level, created by carving space from the original very high ceilings, was the bedroom, which had a big, comfortable bed and a spacious bathroom with shower. On the lower floor was a separate toilet sharing space with a washer and dryer. The creative use of space made for quite a lot of storage. There was a television set with satellite access, including the BBC and Sky channels—useful for checking the weather. All in all, the apartment was very comfortable, quiet, and convenient. We'd go back any time
One day we took the bus up to the Chagall Museum. Unfortunately we got off one stop too soon and had to wander around for a while in the cold before we got ourselves headed in the right direction. A cyberfriend of mine from the tripadvisor.com site had told us the bus to take and provided all sorts of other useful information. We met her in the afternoon at the restaurant that used to be our much loved Le Pain Quotidien and had cups of hot chocolate and got acquainted—nice to know someone in Nice now.
In addition to shopping, we looked at the fabulous Christmas decorations in and near the Place Masséna and Vieux Nice. Some of the lighted displays were really awesome (a word I seldom use), many in three dimensions One afternoon we came upon a young man—probably a student at the music conservatory—playing the Chopin marche militaire on a piano outside the big bank on the Place Masséna—I’ve never heard the composition played so well and with so much energy.
On Saturday our French friends came in from their home near Grasse, and we went to the outdoor Christmas market—not a bit like the German ones, unfortunately, but the hot spiced wine was good. Then we drove with them up to Eze-village, which we’d somehow not seen in past trips. I have to say that I was underwhelmed, having seen any number of other charming medieval villages that didn’t require so much climbing. And boy, was it cold outside! The two big hotels were closed; so no chance of sitting inside with a drink and admiring the view.
We returned to our apartment for a festive dinner. Our friends have often entertained us in their home, and we have long wanted to reciprocate. I shopped at the SPAR market for the special Christmas offerings: chestnuts, mousse de foie gras, and chocolates, along with chicken breasts and a lovely frozen gratin Dauphinois—the favorite of one of our friends, as he is from Grenoble.
More to come on the trip portion outside Nice.
We finally reached Nice at 9 p.m. (instead of 1:45), but to our dismay our luggage did not. Although it arrived (in 2 deliveries) 3 days later, we had to spend precious time buying clothes and a pair of walking shoes for my DH, not easy in unfamiliar surroundings. Since we had no idea where to shop for moderately priced stuff, we ended up buying at stores near our apartment—definitely not the best area for reasonable prices. A/F gave us overnight packs that consisted of toiletries and a big tee-shirt. My advice to anyone checking luggage these days is DON’T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT TRIP INSURANCE!
A very nice young guy from the shuttle service we’d reserved with waited patiently while we filled out all the AF forms, then took us from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1 (where our original flight would have landed) to pick up our apt. keys. We finally arrived at our destination at nearly 11 p.m. I slept like a log, but my DH was kept awake by a very lively party a few doors down.
This time around we decided to rent an apartment, and it was even better than I had hoped for. Perfect location, right next to the Parc Prince Albert (I rode on the carrousel one evening), one block to the Promenade des Anglais, and one block to the rue Masséna pedestrian zone containing our favorite restaurant, La Pizza. A SPAR market was half a block away, as were two good bakeries.
The apartment had a decent-sized living area with floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony, and even a sideways view of the Mediterranean. We had a great view of the park opposite and the huge Ferris wheel set up by the Place Masséna for the Christmas fair. The small but good kitchen had with all kinds of equipment and tableware—and a dishwasher. In the cupboards I found olive oil, spices and other seasonings, and all manner of things useful for cooking. The experience was more like staying in an absent friend’s house than in a rented apartment.
On the mezzanine level, created by carving space from the original very high ceilings, was the bedroom, which had a big, comfortable bed and a spacious bathroom with shower. On the lower floor was a separate toilet sharing space with a washer and dryer. The creative use of space made for quite a lot of storage. There was a television set with satellite access, including the BBC and Sky channels—useful for checking the weather. All in all, the apartment was very comfortable, quiet, and convenient. We'd go back any time
One day we took the bus up to the Chagall Museum. Unfortunately we got off one stop too soon and had to wander around for a while in the cold before we got ourselves headed in the right direction. A cyberfriend of mine from the tripadvisor.com site had told us the bus to take and provided all sorts of other useful information. We met her in the afternoon at the restaurant that used to be our much loved Le Pain Quotidien and had cups of hot chocolate and got acquainted—nice to know someone in Nice now.
In addition to shopping, we looked at the fabulous Christmas decorations in and near the Place Masséna and Vieux Nice. Some of the lighted displays were really awesome (a word I seldom use), many in three dimensions One afternoon we came upon a young man—probably a student at the music conservatory—playing the Chopin marche militaire on a piano outside the big bank on the Place Masséna—I’ve never heard the composition played so well and with so much energy.
On Saturday our French friends came in from their home near Grasse, and we went to the outdoor Christmas market—not a bit like the German ones, unfortunately, but the hot spiced wine was good. Then we drove with them up to Eze-village, which we’d somehow not seen in past trips. I have to say that I was underwhelmed, having seen any number of other charming medieval villages that didn’t require so much climbing. And boy, was it cold outside! The two big hotels were closed; so no chance of sitting inside with a drink and admiring the view.
We returned to our apartment for a festive dinner. Our friends have often entertained us in their home, and we have long wanted to reciprocate. I shopped at the SPAR market for the special Christmas offerings: chestnuts, mousse de foie gras, and chocolates, along with chicken breasts and a lovely frozen gratin Dauphinois—the favorite of one of our friends, as he is from Grenoble.
More to come on the trip portion outside Nice.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 11:27 AM
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Enjoying your report, thank you! Would you post a link to your apt? We've only been to Nice in June, July and September but would love to go for Thanksgiving some time or even in February.
Looking forward to hearing more.
Looking forward to hearing more.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 11:33 AM
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Thanks Underhill, for starting your trip report! Would you mind revealing the link to the apt you chose?
Good that after that dismal start, courtesy of Mother Nature, you finally made it to your destination and enjoyed yourselves! What fun to meet someone in reality that you've known "virtually." An interesting description of Nice in winter, with cups of hot cocoa--interesting esp'ly because people usually think of it as warm, sunny and (gravelly) beach!!!
Good that after that dismal start, courtesy of Mother Nature, you finally made it to your destination and enjoyed yourselves! What fun to meet someone in reality that you've known "virtually." An interesting description of Nice in winter, with cups of hot cocoa--interesting esp'ly because people usually think of it as warm, sunny and (gravelly) beach!!!
Jan 2nd, 2011, 01:38 PM
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Oh yeah! Noting but carry on. I've had my share of misplaced luggage many years ago. Never again.
Underhill-- enjoying your report on my most beloved destination! I've never been in winter either. Only April, June, & September. But I always return to Nice. Just can't stay away.
Underhill-- enjoying your report on my most beloved destination! I've never been in winter either. Only April, June, & September. But I always return to Nice. Just can't stay away.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 02:23 PM
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Ahhhh...a bit of Murphy's Law seems to have gone into effect on the early portion of your trip. Hot spiced wine, cocoa, good friends and Nice...sounds pretty wonderful to me. Did you happen get to the Musée Matisse ?
Jan 2nd, 2011, 02:42 PM
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--<<interesting esp'ly because people usually think of it as warm, sunny and (gravelly) beach!!! >>
The South of France is usually very cold in the winter, not the best time of year to go by any means.
The South of France is usually very cold in the winter, not the best time of year to go by any means.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 03:24 PM
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Here's the apartment:
http://www.go-nice.com/avenue_de_sue...y_details.aspx
December may not be the best time to go to the south of France in terms of weather, but boy, are the holiday decorations (and foods)terrific!
http://www.go-nice.com/avenue_de_sue...y_details.aspx
December may not be the best time to go to the south of France in terms of weather, but boy, are the holiday decorations (and foods)terrific!
Jan 2nd, 2011, 03:48 PM
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historytraveler,
We didn't get to the Matisse museum (having been several times on previous trips) but did see the Picasso. The renovation there has improved the galleries somewhat, but several of our favorite paintings and the superb statue of a goat, seem to have have gone to Paris permanently.
However, the Chagall museum in the morning, with the sun shining through the stained-glass windows in the auditorium and only a few other visitors, was a trip highlight.
We didn't get to the Matisse museum (having been several times on previous trips) but did see the Picasso. The renovation there has improved the galleries somewhat, but several of our favorite paintings and the superb statue of a goat, seem to have have gone to Paris permanently.
However, the Chagall museum in the morning, with the sun shining through the stained-glass windows in the auditorium and only a few other visitors, was a trip highlight.
Jan 2nd, 2011, 11:56 PM
#15
I noticed that on those snowy days quite a few people arrived without luggage, no matter where they were flying from. They were shuffling the passengers around faster than the bags could keep up.
Looking forward to more of the report, Underhill!
Looking forward to more of the report, Underhill!
Jan 3rd, 2011, 02:57 PM
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Your trip sounds wonderful after the rough start. I love traveling in winter and have looked at the Riviera as a possibility so it's nice to hear that things are still lively.
I know how much of a pain lost luggage can be (had to find wedding attire in an hour once for a morning wedding) but I had to smile thinking that your DH found it a pain to go shoe shopping in France- most women would think that is a fantasy come true
!
I know how much of a pain lost luggage can be (had to find wedding attire in an hour once for a morning wedding) but I had to smile thinking that your DH found it a pain to go shoe shopping in France- most women would think that is a fantasy come true
!
Jan 5th, 2011, 04:30 PM
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PART THE SECOND
We arose early on Sunday morning to catch the train. Because it was cold and rainy we took a taxi to the station, arrived earlier than necessary, then had to wait in the very cold lobby until close to the time for our train to leave. My stop was Antibes, where one of our friends picked me up; DH went on to Grasse to meet the other friend.
From Antibes friend and I drove to the Restaurant Daniel Desavie, near Valbonne, where she treated me to a cooking class based on a festive holiday meal. The 11 of us in the class watched and took notes while watching the chef and sous-chef preparing dishes like a layered salmon pâté, langoustine ravioles in a shellfish sauce, stuffed chicken breasts, and much more. Dessert was freshly made marshmallows—interesting to watch, as I’d seen Alton Brown make them a few weeks previously. Watching a chef work in his kitchen was a really interesting experience, and Chef Desavie was really good at explanations and answering questions.
After the three-hour demonstration we trooped into the dining room and settled ourselves at a long table to eat the food from the class. The sous-chef sat at the head of the table, with the chef and his wife the next two down--interesting arrangement. The meal was delicious, although I skipped the achingly sweet marshmallows after one bite. Fortunately, a second dessert was offered: luscious lemon macarons.
After the class and meal we went up to our friends’ home for a relaxing afternoon before taking the train back to Nice. We spent the evening packing, as the following day would be our departure from the apartment (sigh!).
Monday morning found us sleeping late and having to rush to get the apartment in good shape before we left and the cleaners arrived. We made several trips to take the luggage down in the elevator; then I waited while DH went to Europcar to pick up our rental. Instead of the Renault Laguna sedan we had ordered we ended up with a Peugeot 207, a rather sporty car that was comfortable, easy to drive, but lacking in luggage space.
We hit the road for Grasse bin the rain somehow missed the exit, which we knew well, and ended up halfway to Fréjus before being able to leave the autoroute and turn around. As a result we were late meeting our friend for lunch in Mouans-Sartoux, and that set the tone for the rest of the day. We had a lovely meal of moules frites at the Terrasse restaurant, however, and shared a yummy dessert.
By the time we finished lunch it was nearly 4:00 and time to head off to our B&B while there was still enough light. The location appeared on the site’s map to be quite near a major road, but that was not the case. We did our best to follow the directions we had been given, but the day grew darker, heavy rain was falling, and traffic was nasty with people headed home from work. We drove around and around for at least an hour, at one point nearly going off the road and then having to back down a hill for some distance. Our telephone had a GPS feature, but the roads were mostly unmarked and it was hard to tell where we might be, let alone where we should have been.
Finally we decided that it we ever found the B&B it would be just too difficult to travel from for the next six days and called to tell our prospective hosts that we would have to cancel our stay. Madame was not pleased and let us know so in no uncertain terms. We felt bad at disappointing her, but I was coming down with a cold, DH was exhausted from the difficult driving, and all we wanted was a place easy to reach.
Ultimately we decided to head for Sohia Antipolis, where I knew there was a Mercure hotel. On the way we got off onto a road for Mougins, and as we tried to find the way to Sophia we saw a sign for the Hotel de Mougins. So we thought we’d give it a try, and I went in—dripping wet—and asked the pleasant receptionist if a room was available. There was, for a very good rate that included breakfast—business must have been slow. We were given a large room on the ground floor, lovely and warm, and with parking not far from the entrance. Bliss!
The next morning we headed toward the breakfast room and on the way met a portly black cat, sitting by the fire. We greeted each other and then went up for our petit déjeuner, which was a very large buffet of cereals and meats and pastries and eggs and cheeses…had we not restrained ourselves we wouldn’t have needed lunch. Each morning we were alone at breakfast, as the other residents appeared to be at the hotel for a conference and ate earlier. Having our own private room was very nice.
We arose early on Sunday morning to catch the train. Because it was cold and rainy we took a taxi to the station, arrived earlier than necessary, then had to wait in the very cold lobby until close to the time for our train to leave. My stop was Antibes, where one of our friends picked me up; DH went on to Grasse to meet the other friend.
From Antibes friend and I drove to the Restaurant Daniel Desavie, near Valbonne, where she treated me to a cooking class based on a festive holiday meal. The 11 of us in the class watched and took notes while watching the chef and sous-chef preparing dishes like a layered salmon pâté, langoustine ravioles in a shellfish sauce, stuffed chicken breasts, and much more. Dessert was freshly made marshmallows—interesting to watch, as I’d seen Alton Brown make them a few weeks previously. Watching a chef work in his kitchen was a really interesting experience, and Chef Desavie was really good at explanations and answering questions.
After the three-hour demonstration we trooped into the dining room and settled ourselves at a long table to eat the food from the class. The sous-chef sat at the head of the table, with the chef and his wife the next two down--interesting arrangement. The meal was delicious, although I skipped the achingly sweet marshmallows after one bite. Fortunately, a second dessert was offered: luscious lemon macarons.
After the class and meal we went up to our friends’ home for a relaxing afternoon before taking the train back to Nice. We spent the evening packing, as the following day would be our departure from the apartment (sigh!).
Monday morning found us sleeping late and having to rush to get the apartment in good shape before we left and the cleaners arrived. We made several trips to take the luggage down in the elevator; then I waited while DH went to Europcar to pick up our rental. Instead of the Renault Laguna sedan we had ordered we ended up with a Peugeot 207, a rather sporty car that was comfortable, easy to drive, but lacking in luggage space.
We hit the road for Grasse bin the rain somehow missed the exit, which we knew well, and ended up halfway to Fréjus before being able to leave the autoroute and turn around. As a result we were late meeting our friend for lunch in Mouans-Sartoux, and that set the tone for the rest of the day. We had a lovely meal of moules frites at the Terrasse restaurant, however, and shared a yummy dessert.
By the time we finished lunch it was nearly 4:00 and time to head off to our B&B while there was still enough light. The location appeared on the site’s map to be quite near a major road, but that was not the case. We did our best to follow the directions we had been given, but the day grew darker, heavy rain was falling, and traffic was nasty with people headed home from work. We drove around and around for at least an hour, at one point nearly going off the road and then having to back down a hill for some distance. Our telephone had a GPS feature, but the roads were mostly unmarked and it was hard to tell where we might be, let alone where we should have been.
Finally we decided that it we ever found the B&B it would be just too difficult to travel from for the next six days and called to tell our prospective hosts that we would have to cancel our stay. Madame was not pleased and let us know so in no uncertain terms. We felt bad at disappointing her, but I was coming down with a cold, DH was exhausted from the difficult driving, and all we wanted was a place easy to reach.
Ultimately we decided to head for Sohia Antipolis, where I knew there was a Mercure hotel. On the way we got off onto a road for Mougins, and as we tried to find the way to Sophia we saw a sign for the Hotel de Mougins. So we thought we’d give it a try, and I went in—dripping wet—and asked the pleasant receptionist if a room was available. There was, for a very good rate that included breakfast—business must have been slow. We were given a large room on the ground floor, lovely and warm, and with parking not far from the entrance. Bliss!
The next morning we headed toward the breakfast room and on the way met a portly black cat, sitting by the fire. We greeted each other and then went up for our petit déjeuner, which was a very large buffet of cereals and meats and pastries and eggs and cheeses…had we not restrained ourselves we wouldn’t have needed lunch. Each morning we were alone at breakfast, as the other residents appeared to be at the hotel for a conference and ate earlier. Having our own private room was very nice.
