Nice, March-April 2023
Apr 21st, 2023 | 09:30 AM
#1
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Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 24,359
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Nice, March-April 2023
TRIP REPORT NICE, FRANCE: SPRING 2023
Our trip schedule had us departing for France on March 27th, flying on British Airlines. A few days before the big labor strike in France began, with protests taking place across the country about President Macron’s plan to up the retirement age. We began to worry about our flights, especially the one from Heathrow Airport to Nice. We were right to worry. The day before our scheduled departure BA sent us a message saying that our flight from California had been delayed by a day AND would be leaving in the evening instead of the afternoon. That was just the beginning. My husband spent hours on the phone trying to reach the BA call center and getting the message “Due to very heavy call volume we can’t take your call right now. Goodbye.” He persevered, however, and finally was able to speak with a representative and make the necessary changes.
We arrived at the San Francisco airport in the late afternoon and checked in for the flight. To compensate for the day’s delay BA gave us two $25 coupons for a meal. We got sandwiches at the Boudin restaurant and proceeded to the BA lounge, where we discovered that dinner—a good curry—was being served. Then we sat and waited for several hours until the plane finally arrived, late, and we were able to board.
Because we had been able to use miles from BA’s partner American Airlines we were in business class. I had been assigned an aisle seat, and the low arm rest afforded little protection from someone walking past. There were buttons to push to do something with the seat but no information about which ones to use to do what. The best thing about the flight was the cabin crew, who were helpful and polite.
We arrived at Heathrow and had to go through security even though we were transferring within the airport. The security inspection was very, very thorough when compared to those in the U.S. Both of our carry-ons were pulled aside for manual inspection, and my husband’s laptop was especially scrutinized.
I was very grateful to have ordered a wheelchair, as distances at Heathrow are suitable for a marathon. We went through a number of different areas and travelled part of the way on a tram-like vehicle in order to reach the BA departure lounge, full of waiting passengers and offering a wide variety of food and drink. Our original flight to Nice would have meant a landing at 5:00 in the afternoon, but the revised, day-late schedule meant we got in closer to midnight. We were very, very glad to get to our hotel, the Westminster, and fall into bed.
Our hotel package included a very good buffet breakfast (we remembered it fondly from our previous stay) and a room on the top floor that looked out across the Promenade des Anglais to the Mediterranean, my dream ocean. The room had a bathtub and hand-held shower with controls that required an engineering degree to operate and more hand strength than we had.
After breakfast we took an Uber (pronounced there ooo-*bear) to the Cours Saleya market in old Nice to buy some flowers for the room. On our return to the hotel I asked for a vase, and a nice man arrived at our door with a toothbrush. We had a good laugh, and he went back to the storeroom to find something to hold water.
We decided to have lunch in Vieux Nice, which is filled with interesting restaurants, shops, sights to see, and now a branch of Paris’s Eric Kayser Bakery—known as one of the very best. We decided to have a late lunch at our long-time favorite restaurant, L’Ecurie (meaning The Stable it once was), and enjoyed pasta with pesto sauce. We wandered down to the main square and watched musicians perform, then began the tedious process of having an Uber find us for the return trip to our hotel.
Vieux Nice is a warren of short streets, and security precautions have made it difficult for vehicles to access the central area. On previous trips we had walked from the hotel to Vieux Nice, but this time around my left hip was painful and I couldn’t walk far without needing to stop and sit. So Uber became our friend, once DH rented a pocket wi-fi to allow him to communicate with the Uber app. That was especially important because the dreadful July 14 massacre meant that the usual access routes had been blocked off with bollards.
The following day we visited the new Asian Art Museum, near the Parc Phoenix. The museum’s setting includes a large pond graced with a swan and other waterfowl—and inside, a glass elevator. We had just missed the major exhibition of Japanese wood-block prints, something of particular interest to us, but the permanent exhibits were well worth a visit.
The next day we Uber-ed out to the Marc Chagall Museum and spent several hours admiring the enormous Biblical and other paintings.
More later.
Our trip schedule had us departing for France on March 27th, flying on British Airlines. A few days before the big labor strike in France began, with protests taking place across the country about President Macron’s plan to up the retirement age. We began to worry about our flights, especially the one from Heathrow Airport to Nice. We were right to worry. The day before our scheduled departure BA sent us a message saying that our flight from California had been delayed by a day AND would be leaving in the evening instead of the afternoon. That was just the beginning. My husband spent hours on the phone trying to reach the BA call center and getting the message “Due to very heavy call volume we can’t take your call right now. Goodbye.” He persevered, however, and finally was able to speak with a representative and make the necessary changes.
We arrived at the San Francisco airport in the late afternoon and checked in for the flight. To compensate for the day’s delay BA gave us two $25 coupons for a meal. We got sandwiches at the Boudin restaurant and proceeded to the BA lounge, where we discovered that dinner—a good curry—was being served. Then we sat and waited for several hours until the plane finally arrived, late, and we were able to board.
Because we had been able to use miles from BA’s partner American Airlines we were in business class. I had been assigned an aisle seat, and the low arm rest afforded little protection from someone walking past. There were buttons to push to do something with the seat but no information about which ones to use to do what. The best thing about the flight was the cabin crew, who were helpful and polite.
We arrived at Heathrow and had to go through security even though we were transferring within the airport. The security inspection was very, very thorough when compared to those in the U.S. Both of our carry-ons were pulled aside for manual inspection, and my husband’s laptop was especially scrutinized.
I was very grateful to have ordered a wheelchair, as distances at Heathrow are suitable for a marathon. We went through a number of different areas and travelled part of the way on a tram-like vehicle in order to reach the BA departure lounge, full of waiting passengers and offering a wide variety of food and drink. Our original flight to Nice would have meant a landing at 5:00 in the afternoon, but the revised, day-late schedule meant we got in closer to midnight. We were very, very glad to get to our hotel, the Westminster, and fall into bed.
Our hotel package included a very good buffet breakfast (we remembered it fondly from our previous stay) and a room on the top floor that looked out across the Promenade des Anglais to the Mediterranean, my dream ocean. The room had a bathtub and hand-held shower with controls that required an engineering degree to operate and more hand strength than we had.
After breakfast we took an Uber (pronounced there ooo-*bear) to the Cours Saleya market in old Nice to buy some flowers for the room. On our return to the hotel I asked for a vase, and a nice man arrived at our door with a toothbrush. We had a good laugh, and he went back to the storeroom to find something to hold water.
We decided to have lunch in Vieux Nice, which is filled with interesting restaurants, shops, sights to see, and now a branch of Paris’s Eric Kayser Bakery—known as one of the very best. We decided to have a late lunch at our long-time favorite restaurant, L’Ecurie (meaning The Stable it once was), and enjoyed pasta with pesto sauce. We wandered down to the main square and watched musicians perform, then began the tedious process of having an Uber find us for the return trip to our hotel.
Vieux Nice is a warren of short streets, and security precautions have made it difficult for vehicles to access the central area. On previous trips we had walked from the hotel to Vieux Nice, but this time around my left hip was painful and I couldn’t walk far without needing to stop and sit. So Uber became our friend, once DH rented a pocket wi-fi to allow him to communicate with the Uber app. That was especially important because the dreadful July 14 massacre meant that the usual access routes had been blocked off with bollards.
The following day we visited the new Asian Art Museum, near the Parc Phoenix. The museum’s setting includes a large pond graced with a swan and other waterfowl—and inside, a glass elevator. We had just missed the major exhibition of Japanese wood-block prints, something of particular interest to us, but the permanent exhibits were well worth a visit.
The next day we Uber-ed out to the Marc Chagall Museum and spent several hours admiring the enormous Biblical and other paintings.
More later.
Last edited by Underhill; Apr 21st, 2023 at 09:32 AM.
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Apr 22nd, 2023 | 09:02 AM
#9
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 17,347
Likes: 8
DH and I leave for Nice on April 30 so I am eager to read more. I've taken note of L’Ecurie. When we were in Nice a few years ago, on our walks along the Promenade des Anglais back to our apartment, we stopped every late afternoon/evening at Le Galet, a wonderful open air restaurant on the beach. We had wine and sometimes snacks, and ate dinner there one night as well. The setting is so beautiful and peaceful. We also bought flowers for our apartment and will do so again this year. On our stop at Le Galet, we put the flowers (a flowering plant actually) on our table and all the waitstaff came over to compliment our flowers.
Apr 22nd, 2023 | 10:56 AM
#10
Joined: Feb 2003
Posts: 3,842
Likes: 0
I think EU261 would not apply here due to the extraordinary circumstances of the French strikes causing your flight delay. Also BA is no longer an EU carrier, therefore the you would not be entitled to compensation for the flight delay.
Apr 25th, 2023 | 08:21 AM
#13
Original Poster
Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 24,359
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TRIP REPORT, NICE: APARTMENT LIFE AND RETURNING HOME
On March 28th we bade farewell to the Hotel Westminster and embarked on a new adventure: apartment rental. Our apartment, Pastorelli, was rented through Nice Pebbles and farther out than I’d thought. I missed the sea. Still, it was a good choice for size, having two bedrooms AND two bathrooms—the one with a tub had everything that the hotel hadn’t, including grab bars. We used one bedroom as a dressing room. The kitchen was especially good and fairly new, with everything we needed. There was even a small balcony. We were on the sixth floor of the building, with a tiny elevator holding just two people.
We settled in to the apartment, and my husband went out to a local bakery every morning to get a croissant for me and a pain au chocolat for himself. Such luxury! He bought other comestibles (orange juice, milk, butter—I’d forgotten how good French butter was!) at a little SPAR market nearby. One day we shopped at the very large Monoprix market, where the fresh foods were a wonder to behold in the lead-up to Easter. And the chocolats! Easter bunnies, ducks, horses, chickens…and more. I could have happily spent hours looking at all the different fresh and frozen foods. I also loaded up on gifts for friends and neighbors (Roger & Gallet soaps) and little things that the apartment didn’t include (wash cloths).
The first night in the apartment we decided to eat locally at a small pizzeria—Basilic and Company--that offered pizzas representing different area of France. DH’s choice was Paris, while I opted for Burgundy. The restaurant did a lively trade in take-out orders; we were the only customers eating in.
The following day our friends from Grasse came down to Nice to have lunch with us at La Vigna, a very nice restaurant right on the old port. From our seats we could see medium-sized yachts and the large ferry that goes to Corsica. We had a delicious lunch—DH and I both had shrimp flambéed in brandy, while our guests had octopus. Afterwards we returned to the apartment and were very happy to be joined by our friends’ daughter, her partner, and their adorable 3-year-old son. I’m not sure how the neighbors felt about the fun he had with a soccer ball that was in one of the apartment’s closets!
We sadly told our friends that we wouldn’t be able to join the family celebration on Easter. My walking difficulties made getting around dicey, and our friends’ home—dating from the Napoleonic era--was on 3 floors. Tile floors.
The following night we dined at La Maison Bleue, a sweet little place decorated all in—you guessed it—blue. DH really liked his scallops, while I enjoyed sole meunière. That reminded me of the first meal Julia Child had in France, and I could see why she so enjoyed it.
On Easter Sunday we took an Uber to the Place Massena to find a place for an early dinner and ended up at a restaurant on the pedestrian street again. DH had a fine dish of salmon and I, a mediocre pasta al pesto.
The next day was devoted to packing and leaving the apartment a day early to return to the Westminster. The more we thought about getting to the airport early, the more we realized that we needed to be nearer to the airport. On our arrival at the hotel we were pleased to see that we were again on the top floor. This time around the bathroom was exactly what it should have been, with easy-to-use controls for the tub/shower.
After leaving our luggage we walked the two blocks to the pedestrian street for lunch. We stopped at a small restaurant to try, for DH, the mussels again; I had a salad. Then we wandered down the street to a bakery, Armand, for dessert: a delectable éclair for DH and a lemon tart for me. We also bought pastries for an early breakfast the following morning. Very early! Our final stop as at an excellent shop for Easter confections to take home.
Later that afternoon our friends surprised us with a last visit. We reminisced about our days with them both at our home and theirs and sadly said goodbye for probably the last time in France.
THE REST OF THE TRIP
The following morning we got a wake-up call at 3:30 and hurried to pack our overnight things into our suitcases, eat the pastries we’d bought the day before, and go down to meet the taxi. We arrived at the airport and headed for the British Airways lounge, where breakfast was available: croissants, pains au chocolat, cereals, fruit, juice, coffee, tea…anything one might want. And then some!
At 5:30 a.m. our flight was called, and we boarded. A full English breakfast was available: bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, toast…we couldn’t face it. The two-hour flight brought us to Heathrow, and this time security was much quicker. We settled in at the lounge to wait for our afternoon flight. And waited. And waited.
After about 3 hours a notice went up on the board that our flight had been delayed because of a problem with the plane. We sat for another 2 hours and then were directed to go to the boarding area. We did so, and were met with an announcement that the new plane had a problem! We waited and waited and were finally told that because of the flight delay the airline had to provide drinks and snacks. A sort of chuck-wagon rolled up, snacks were handed out, and then—finally—we were told that we could board.
The flight home was about the same as the flight over. We landed in San Francisco at about 10:00 p.m. and were met with a wheelchair. We were taken to Immigration, where a group of folk in wheelchairs was amassed in front of the one agent assigned to handle us—other travelers had 3 and were processed quickly while we waited and waited some more. Oddly enough there was no Customs or agricultural inspection, something that had taken quite a lot of time when we came through Chicago on our last trip home.
Our driver was waiting for us at midnight. We found each other and were on the road for home at midnight.
TRIP REPORT, NICE: APARTMENT LIFE AND RETURNING HOME
On March 28th we bade farewell to the Hotel Westminster and embarked on a new adventure: apartment rental. Our apartment, Pastorelli, was rented through Nice Pebbles and farther out than I’d thought. I missed the sea. Still, it was a good choice for size, having two bedrooms AND two bathrooms—the one with a tub had everything that the hotel hadn’t, including grab bars. We used one bedroom as a dressing room. The kitchen was especially good and fairly new, with everything we needed. There was even a small balcony. We were on the sixth floor of the building, with a tiny elevator holding just two people.
We settled in to the apartment, and my husband went out to a local bakery every morning to get a croissant for me and a pain au chocolat for himself. Such luxury! He bought other comestibles (orange juice, milk, butter—I’d forgotten how good French butter was!) at a little SPAR market nearby. One day we shopped at the very large Monoprix market, where the fresh foods were a wonder to behold in the lead-up to Easter. And the chocolats! Easter bunnies, ducks, horses, chickens…and more. I could have happily spent hours looking at all the different fresh and frozen foods. I also loaded up on gifts for friends and neighbors (Roger & Gallet soaps) and little things that the apartment didn’t include (wash cloths).
The first night in the apartment we decided to eat locally at a small pizzeria—Basilic and Company--that offered pizzas representing different area of France. DH’s choice was Paris, while I opted for Burgundy. The restaurant did a lively trade in take-out orders; we were the only customers eating in.
The following day our friends from Grasse came down to Nice to have lunch with us at La Vigna, a very nice restaurant right on the old port. From our seats we could see medium-sized yachts and the large ferry that goes to Corsica. We had a delicious lunch—DH and I both had shrimp flambéed in brandy, while our guests had octopus. Afterwards we returned to the apartment and were very happy to be joined by our friends’ daughter, her partner, and their adorable 3-year-old son. I’m not sure how the neighbors felt about the fun he had with a soccer ball that was in one of the apartment’s closets!
We sadly told our friends that we wouldn’t be able to join the family celebration on Easter. My walking difficulties made getting around dicey, and our friends’ home—dating from the Napoleonic era--was on 3 floors. Tile floors.
The following night we dined at La Maison Bleue, a sweet little place decorated all in—you guessed it—blue. DH really liked his scallops, while I enjoyed sole meunière. That reminded me of the first meal Julia Child had in France, and I could see why she so enjoyed it.
On Easter Sunday we took an Uber to the Place Massena to find a place for an early dinner and ended up at a restaurant on the pedestrian street again. DH had a fine dish of salmon and I, a mediocre pasta al pesto.
The next day was devoted to packing and leaving the apartment a day early to return to the Westminster. The more we thought about getting to the airport early, the more we realized that we needed to be nearer to the airport. On our arrival at the hotel we were pleased to see that we were again on the top floor. This time around the bathroom was exactly what it should have been, with easy-to-use controls for the tub/shower.
After leaving our luggage we walked the two blocks to the pedestrian street for lunch. We stopped at a small restaurant to try, for DH, the mussels again; I had a salad. Then we wandered down the street to a bakery, Armand, for dessert: a delectable éclair for DH and a lemon tart for me. We also bought pastries for an early breakfast the following morning. Very early! Our final stop as at an excellent shop for Easter confections to take home.
Later that afternoon our friends surprised us with a last visit. We reminisced about our days with them both at our home and theirs and sadly said goodbye for probably the last time in France.
THE REST OF THE TRIP
The following morning we got a wake-up call at 3:30 and hurried to pack our overnight things into our suitcases, eat the pastries we’d bought the day before, and go down to meet the taxi. We arrived at the airport and headed for the British Airways lounge, where breakfast was available: croissants, pains au chocolat, cereals, fruit, juice, coffee, tea…anything one might want. And then some!
At 5:30 a.m. our flight was called, and we boarded. A full English breakfast was available: bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, toast…we couldn’t face it. The two-hour flight brought us to Heathrow, and this time security was much quicker. We settled in at the lounge to wait for our afternoon flight. And waited. And waited.
After about 3 hours a notice went up on the board that our flight had been delayed because of a problem with the plane. We sat for another 2 hours and then were directed to go to the boarding area. We did so, and were met with an announcement that the new plane had a problem! We waited and waited and were finally told that because of the flight delay the airline had to provide drinks and snacks. A sort of chuck-wagon rolled up, snacks were handed out, and then—finally—we were told that we could board.
The flight home was about the same as the flight over. We landed in San Francisco at about 10:00 p.m. and were met with a wheelchair. We were taken to Immigration, where a group of folk in wheelchairs was amassed in front of the one agent assigned to handle us—other travelers had 3 and were processed quickly while we waited and waited some more. Oddly enough there was no Customs or agricultural inspection, something that had taken quite a lot of time when we came through Chicago on our last trip home.
Our driver was waiting for us at midnight. We found each other and were on the road for home at midnight.
On March 28th we bade farewell to the Hotel Westminster and embarked on a new adventure: apartment rental. Our apartment, Pastorelli, was rented through Nice Pebbles and farther out than I’d thought. I missed the sea. Still, it was a good choice for size, having two bedrooms AND two bathrooms—the one with a tub had everything that the hotel hadn’t, including grab bars. We used one bedroom as a dressing room. The kitchen was especially good and fairly new, with everything we needed. There was even a small balcony. We were on the sixth floor of the building, with a tiny elevator holding just two people.
We settled in to the apartment, and my husband went out to a local bakery every morning to get a croissant for me and a pain au chocolat for himself. Such luxury! He bought other comestibles (orange juice, milk, butter—I’d forgotten how good French butter was!) at a little SPAR market nearby. One day we shopped at the very large Monoprix market, where the fresh foods were a wonder to behold in the lead-up to Easter. And the chocolats! Easter bunnies, ducks, horses, chickens…and more. I could have happily spent hours looking at all the different fresh and frozen foods. I also loaded up on gifts for friends and neighbors (Roger & Gallet soaps) and little things that the apartment didn’t include (wash cloths).
The first night in the apartment we decided to eat locally at a small pizzeria—Basilic and Company--that offered pizzas representing different area of France. DH’s choice was Paris, while I opted for Burgundy. The restaurant did a lively trade in take-out orders; we were the only customers eating in.
The following day our friends from Grasse came down to Nice to have lunch with us at La Vigna, a very nice restaurant right on the old port. From our seats we could see medium-sized yachts and the large ferry that goes to Corsica. We had a delicious lunch—DH and I both had shrimp flambéed in brandy, while our guests had octopus. Afterwards we returned to the apartment and were very happy to be joined by our friends’ daughter, her partner, and their adorable 3-year-old son. I’m not sure how the neighbors felt about the fun he had with a soccer ball that was in one of the apartment’s closets!
We sadly told our friends that we wouldn’t be able to join the family celebration on Easter. My walking difficulties made getting around dicey, and our friends’ home—dating from the Napoleonic era--was on 3 floors. Tile floors.
The following night we dined at La Maison Bleue, a sweet little place decorated all in—you guessed it—blue. DH really liked his scallops, while I enjoyed sole meunière. That reminded me of the first meal Julia Child had in France, and I could see why she so enjoyed it.
On Easter Sunday we took an Uber to the Place Massena to find a place for an early dinner and ended up at a restaurant on the pedestrian street again. DH had a fine dish of salmon and I, a mediocre pasta al pesto.
The next day was devoted to packing and leaving the apartment a day early to return to the Westminster. The more we thought about getting to the airport early, the more we realized that we needed to be nearer to the airport. On our arrival at the hotel we were pleased to see that we were again on the top floor. This time around the bathroom was exactly what it should have been, with easy-to-use controls for the tub/shower.
After leaving our luggage we walked the two blocks to the pedestrian street for lunch. We stopped at a small restaurant to try, for DH, the mussels again; I had a salad. Then we wandered down the street to a bakery, Armand, for dessert: a delectable éclair for DH and a lemon tart for me. We also bought pastries for an early breakfast the following morning. Very early! Our final stop as at an excellent shop for Easter confections to take home.
Later that afternoon our friends surprised us with a last visit. We reminisced about our days with them both at our home and theirs and sadly said goodbye for probably the last time in France.
THE REST OF THE TRIP
The following morning we got a wake-up call at 3:30 and hurried to pack our overnight things into our suitcases, eat the pastries we’d bought the day before, and go down to meet the taxi. We arrived at the airport and headed for the British Airways lounge, where breakfast was available: croissants, pains au chocolat, cereals, fruit, juice, coffee, tea…anything one might want. And then some!
At 5:30 a.m. our flight was called, and we boarded. A full English breakfast was available: bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, toast…we couldn’t face it. The two-hour flight brought us to Heathrow, and this time security was much quicker. We settled in at the lounge to wait for our afternoon flight. And waited. And waited.
After about 3 hours a notice went up on the board that our flight had been delayed because of a problem with the plane. We sat for another 2 hours and then were directed to go to the boarding area. We did so, and were met with an announcement that the new plane had a problem! We waited and waited and were finally told that because of the flight delay the airline had to provide drinks and snacks. A sort of chuck-wagon rolled up, snacks were handed out, and then—finally—we were told that we could board.
The flight home was about the same as the flight over. We landed in San Francisco at about 10:00 p.m. and were met with a wheelchair. We were taken to Immigration, where a group of folk in wheelchairs was amassed in front of the one agent assigned to handle us—other travelers had 3 and were processed quickly while we waited and waited some more. Oddly enough there was no Customs or agricultural inspection, something that had taken quite a lot of time when we came through Chicago on our last trip home.
Our driver was waiting for us at midnight. We found each other and were on the road for home at midnight.
TRIP REPORT, NICE: APARTMENT LIFE AND RETURNING HOME
On March 28th we bade farewell to the Hotel Westminster and embarked on a new adventure: apartment rental. Our apartment, Pastorelli, was rented through Nice Pebbles and farther out than I’d thought. I missed the sea. Still, it was a good choice for size, having two bedrooms AND two bathrooms—the one with a tub had everything that the hotel hadn’t, including grab bars. We used one bedroom as a dressing room. The kitchen was especially good and fairly new, with everything we needed. There was even a small balcony. We were on the sixth floor of the building, with a tiny elevator holding just two people.
We settled in to the apartment, and my husband went out to a local bakery every morning to get a croissant for me and a pain au chocolat for himself. Such luxury! He bought other comestibles (orange juice, milk, butter—I’d forgotten how good French butter was!) at a little SPAR market nearby. One day we shopped at the very large Monoprix market, where the fresh foods were a wonder to behold in the lead-up to Easter. And the chocolats! Easter bunnies, ducks, horses, chickens…and more. I could have happily spent hours looking at all the different fresh and frozen foods. I also loaded up on gifts for friends and neighbors (Roger & Gallet soaps) and little things that the apartment didn’t include (wash cloths).
The first night in the apartment we decided to eat locally at a small pizzeria—Basilic and Company--that offered pizzas representing different area of France. DH’s choice was Paris, while I opted for Burgundy. The restaurant did a lively trade in take-out orders; we were the only customers eating in.
The following day our friends from Grasse came down to Nice to have lunch with us at La Vigna, a very nice restaurant right on the old port. From our seats we could see medium-sized yachts and the large ferry that goes to Corsica. We had a delicious lunch—DH and I both had shrimp flambéed in brandy, while our guests had octopus. Afterwards we returned to the apartment and were very happy to be joined by our friends’ daughter, her partner, and their adorable 3-year-old son. I’m not sure how the neighbors felt about the fun he had with a soccer ball that was in one of the apartment’s closets!
We sadly told our friends that we wouldn’t be able to join the family celebration on Easter. My walking difficulties made getting around dicey, and our friends’ home—dating from the Napoleonic era--was on 3 floors. Tile floors.
The following night we dined at La Maison Bleue, a sweet little place decorated all in—you guessed it—blue. DH really liked his scallops, while I enjoyed sole meunière. That reminded me of the first meal Julia Child had in France, and I could see why she so enjoyed it.
On Easter Sunday we took an Uber to the Place Massena to find a place for an early dinner and ended up at a restaurant on the pedestrian street again. DH had a fine dish of salmon and I, a mediocre pasta al pesto.
The next day was devoted to packing and leaving the apartment a day early to return to the Westminster. The more we thought about getting to the airport early, the more we realized that we needed to be nearer to the airport. On our arrival at the hotel we were pleased to see that we were again on the top floor. This time around the bathroom was exactly what it should have been, with easy-to-use controls for the tub/shower.
After leaving our luggage we walked the two blocks to the pedestrian street for lunch. We stopped at a small restaurant to try, for DH, the mussels again; I had a salad. Then we wandered down the street to a bakery, Armand, for dessert: a delectable éclair for DH and a lemon tart for me. We also bought pastries for an early breakfast the following morning. Very early! Our final stop as at an excellent shop for Easter confections to take home.
Later that afternoon our friends surprised us with a last visit. We reminisced about our days with them both at our home and theirs and sadly said goodbye for probably the last time in France.
THE REST OF THE TRIP
The following morning we got a wake-up call at 3:30 and hurried to pack our overnight things into our suitcases, eat the pastries we’d bought the day before, and go down to meet the taxi. We arrived at the airport and headed for the British Airways lounge, where breakfast was available: croissants, pains au chocolat, cereals, fruit, juice, coffee, tea…anything one might want. And then some!
At 5:30 a.m. our flight was called, and we boarded. A full English breakfast was available: bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, toast…we couldn’t face it. The two-hour flight brought us to Heathrow, and this time security was much quicker. We settled in at the lounge to wait for our afternoon flight. And waited. And waited.
After about 3 hours a notice went up on the board that our flight had been delayed because of a problem with the plane. We sat for another 2 hours and then were directed to go to the boarding area. We did so, and were met with an announcement that the new plane had a problem! We waited and waited and were finally told that because of the flight delay the airline had to provide drinks and snacks. A sort of chuck-wagon rolled up, snacks were handed out, and then—finally—we were told that we could board.
The flight home was about the same as the flight over. We landed in San Francisco at about 10:00 p.m. and were met with a wheelchair. We were taken to Immigration, where a group of folk in wheelchairs was amassed in front of the one agent assigned to handle us—other travelers had 3 and were processed quickly while we waited and waited some more. Oddly enough there was no Customs or agricultural inspection, something that had taken quite a lot of time when we came through Chicago on our last trip home.
Our driver was waiting for us at midnight. We found each other and were on the road for home at midnight.
Apr 25th, 2023 | 09:59 AM
#15
Joined: Mar 2018
Posts: 427
Likes: 0
@underhill --- that you for taking to write up the two part trip report. It did end on a bit of a sad note as I see you were saying goodbye to your friends from Grasse for the last time in France?
You were staying, at the Westminster, close to our apartment. I've eaten at La Maison Bleue, in fact, so I was surprised to find it in your report. We tend to avoid most of the restaurants directly on the pedestrian zone but rather find better choices just off the street or in the surrounding neighborhoods.
You were staying, at the Westminster, close to our apartment. I've eaten at La Maison Bleue, in fact, so I was surprised to find it in your report. We tend to avoid most of the restaurants directly on the pedestrian zone but rather find better choices just off the street or in the surrounding neighborhoods.
Apr 25th, 2023 | 11:06 AM
#17
Joined: Apr 2005
Posts: 5,552
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Thanks for your report, Underhill. I'm sorry you were having trouble with your hip and I hope you get better speedily.
EU 261 has been adopted by the UK -- I don't now what letters they use but it's still "261" as I understand, and when your arrival time is delayed for more than, I believe, 3 hours, passengers are able to make a claim; but, yes, there are exceptions. I had read about the cancellation/delay at SFO (have a flight coming up in May) and have found that the BA Executive Club section on FlyerTalk a wealth of information about what to do when interruptions happen, what you can claim, when, etc. Additionally, the regular posters there can be pretty entertaining, as well... love British humor.
EU 261 has been adopted by the UK -- I don't now what letters they use but it's still "261" as I understand, and when your arrival time is delayed for more than, I believe, 3 hours, passengers are able to make a claim; but, yes, there are exceptions. I had read about the cancellation/delay at SFO (have a flight coming up in May) and have found that the BA Executive Club section on FlyerTalk a wealth of information about what to do when interruptions happen, what you can claim, when, etc. Additionally, the regular posters there can be pretty entertaining, as well... love British humor.
Apr 26th, 2023 | 12:15 PM
#19
Joined: Feb 2006
Posts: 57,091
Likes: 5
Thanks for your entertaining trip report, Underhill, tinged with sadness over your probably not seeing your friends in France again. The hotel sounds terrific though and the apartment a good choice despite its not being by the sea. it certainly is lovely to be able to go out for fresh croissants etc in the mornings which is something I'm looking froward to in Paris as well, though I suspect it will be me going out to get them!
Apr 27th, 2023 | 12:16 AM
#20
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 33,367
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Underhill, sorry for the hip problems and glad your were still able to enjoy your trip. I was surprised a full breakfast was offered on such a short flight. Spring in France is beautiful. i can spend a long time in a supermarket, too!
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