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The honest Italian tale of the laughs, the panics and the awe

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The honest Italian tale of the laughs, the panics and the awe

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Old Oct 5th, 2014, 07:12 AM
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I just found this and enjoying it very much. How long did it take to train to Nice from UK, please?
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Old Oct 5th, 2014, 07:39 AM
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You have to also remember that Nice was part of Italy from 1942 to late 43.
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Old Oct 5th, 2014, 08:56 AM
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I am thoroughly enjoying the report of your adventure.
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Old Oct 6th, 2014, 01:45 PM
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Simjay - Sounds great, where are you planning on visiting?

TDudette - We didn't take a train from the UK to Nice, we flew there from Gatwick. I really recommend travelling through Europe by train though, it's wonderful.

bilboburgler - Really? How interesting!

KTtravel - Thank you very much, I'm glad you're enjoying it
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Old Oct 6th, 2014, 01:48 PM
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The biggest downpour I have ever witnessed and the most expensive sandwich I have ever purchased…

Around mid-morning we hopped on the number 100 bus to Monaco along with what felt like the rest of Nice. The bus was jam packed but luckily we managed to get a seat and for €1.50 it was an absolute bargain. On a side note, European public transport is wonderfully cheap compared to the UK – it shocked us just how much bang we could get for our buck!

The number 100 bus was due to take around 40 minutes from Nice to Monaco, I believe there is a number 100x (or something similar) which cuts down the travel time. However 40 minutes isn’t really that long at all so we were fine.

The bus you will need to catch is on the Nice to Menton line – timetable here for future reference: https://www.cg06.fr/documents/A-votr...commun/100.pdf

On the way we passed through many beautiful little towns with stunning coastlines. People were getting off the bus all along the trip and we made a couple of (regrettable) mental notes to come back another time – unfortunately we didn’t make it this trip but it’s always an excuse to visit again. The mental notes were regrettable as 5 minutes later these notes were then banished to a part of my brain which I’d never remember. A couple of the towns the bus stopped on were on sort of a cliff edge with what looked like a bay with crystal blue sea and greenery everywhere, a really glorious Mediterranean view.

There are several stops in Monaco and we hadn’t decided which one to get off at but a lot of people were getting off at the Monte Carlo Casino stop so we thought we’d follow the crowd. We took a short walk down a narrow path and we found ourselves in the casino gardens. My first impression was that it was much greener than expected – somewhat like a very neat miniature jungle. There were lots of tall green tress, bushes and immaculately crafted ‘green arrangements of leaves’ – I’m no Alan Titchmarsh! There was water flowing through the gardens and a couple of unusual water features if my memory serves me right.

We walked to the bottom of the gardens (or what we considered the bottom), out to the other side and made our way to the vibrant blue sea view around the back of the casino. We took some (a lot of) mandatory camera shots and took home a whole album of pictures of the casino surroundings, all of which looked the same except 2 or 3… we all do it. One thing I remember vividly (and can also see when I look back through seventeen hundred photos of the same thing) is how the sky and the sea were just so beautiful – different shades of blue of the sea and sky all just merged into one.

It had reached early afternoon and our stomachs began to grumble – time for food. Now don’t get me wrong, I knew I was going to have to pay over the odds for something to nibble on (especially since we spotted a front row seat of a restaurant built with the only purpose of cashing in on tourists with more money than sense) but I didn’t quite expect the hefty bill I was presented with at the end.
The place was called Café de Paris – I can hear the disappointed sighs now – it’s all about location, location, location. We sat front row for well over an hour (getting our money’s worth) simply people watching and glaring at the £200k cars glide past with the token guy in shades at the wheel.

Our food and drinks arrived shortly after one another – a glass of wine, another of coca cola and 2 club sandwiches. Now, I really need to hammer home just how much Café de Paris (in my opinion) is just for people watching and enjoying the atmosphere and really not at all for tucking into delicious cuisine. Our club sandwiches (only lunch on the outside lunch menu) managed to be soggy and stale at the same time and fell apart whilst I was eating it. Now I wasn’t expecting high-end cuisine but when you have to spend almost €20 on a sarnie, you expect it to be at least OK. These 2 sandwiches, the coke and the cheapest glass on wine on the menu (yes I was being particularly tight that day) costing €8, came to €55 including tip.

Whilst I’ve spent almost a whole paragraph berating this poor sandwich, I can tell you now that I would still probably return. Not for the food or for the surprisingly good glass of ‘cheap’ wine, but for the experience. I’m a very much ‘sit and watch the world the world go by’ kind of person and that hour we spent there was definitely up there, especially for a busy town.

The casino opened its doors at 2pm and the relatively scary men at the entrance starting letting the hordes of tourists in to catch a glimpse inside. It’s a strict no camera kind of place, so make sure you pop it into your bag before you queue as you’ll be in royal trouble (as we saw) if you’re caught taking a quick snap inside.
We noticed the inside decoration of the building before we actually entered the main room was stunning. I really advise you to take a few minutes in what I guess is the foyer just to look up.

At the main desk we handed over €10 each as a deposit along with our passports and in return were given a ticket with our name on – a lovely little souvenir. There are several rooms off the main section of the casino, some had black jack tables, others were restaurants which housed huge windows looking out to sea – a wonderful backdrop for a spot of sophisticated lunch. We also of course checked out the bathrooms (a must in my book) as we expected them to be pretty grand however to be honest they were a bit of a disappointment – no lovely hand washes or revolving loos! (but really how disappointed could you be with a bathroom!).

We returned to the main room where all the slot machines were and fed €10 into the first machine we came across. At first we were gambling 10c here and there just for the fun of it – I can’t describe how amusing it was pulling at those levers and winning 25c! We quickly found our favourite machine called the Fox Hound (bizarre I know!) and were gambling at the dizzy heights of €1.50 a spin. Now I’m being 100% truthful when I say after 20 minutes or so we were probably done and just wanted to gamble away the rest of the money and cash out a euro with Monte Carlo casino on the slip – but it took us over an hour. We couldn’t get rid of the money – we kept winning! Any other situation I think we’d be flying but when you just want to get out an explore it was so irritating ha! We kept winning daft bonuses of €25 here and there and having special missions on the slot machines which kept giving us more and more money. There was no point cashing out a decent chunk as we were probably not going to return any time soon so after about an hour and an arm close to developing tennis elbow we were out!

As an overall verdict of the casino, I’d have to say I was pretty disappointed. There was no grandeur and nothing felt particularly special about the place, but I guess I wasn’t in the secret section where all the millionaires play.

Next on the list was going on a search for some of the sights of the famous Formula One track – the cones were still out and the stands still up as race was only the week before. We came across the hairpin bend first and the thing that struck me the most was how narrow the road was and the sheer amazement that cars overtook each other round there at top speed. The next piece of the track we came across was the tunnel – walking through it the noise of the Fiat car engines was deafening, goodness knows what it’s like with the F1 cars.

Out of the other side of the tunnel we came across some yachts and on every other one, it seemed as if the owners were treating their guests to a lavish dinner party. The immaculate staff dressed all in white were serving the wine and dishes without fault - it really looked like something out of a film. I suppose it was a bit odd to stop for a couple of seconds to watch these people having their lunch on a weekday afternoon, they probably felt like they were in a goldfish bowl but on the other hand, you don’t park your yacht for lunch in Monte Carlo if you don’t want to be seen.

After getting lost for what felt like hours (total exaggeration, it was around 20 minutes), we found a bus stop which would take us back to Nice. The return trip wasn’t as pleasant as we got stuck in the rush hour traffic – curious to think that Monaco functions the same way as other towns in some respects when it’s so different in others. I was so tired on the bus that even looking out of the window was too much of an effort so I missed all the beautiful towns on the way back.

Garibaldi square was heaving when we arrived and after all the crowds of the day from early morning to early evening, we just wanted a peaceful hour back at the hotel. A short walk and an apricot pastry later we were snuggled up sleeping off our tiredness.

We left the hotel for dinner around 8pm, deeming it a ‘trouser night’ (hilarious – does anyone else call it this?), as it had clouded over and was a bit cooler than earlier. Rebelliously (sort of) we jumped on a bus to Garibaldi with an expired ticket mainly because a) we forgot to bring any cash with us and b) we were too lazy to walk. We fancied some food that we could just walk around with but didn’t come across anything we fancied so we headed to the old town to find a restaurant.

On our way we came across a wonderful little square which looked just like a little piazza in Venice – it had a gelateria, a little Italian restaurant, a church and elegantly decaying buildings. It was so peculiar to see but it really made me super excited for Venice in around 10 days’ time. We had dinner just around the corner at a relatively ordinary place – a couple of pizzas and drinks only cost us €30, very cheap for Nice!

Just as I’d finished my last mouthful, the heavens opened. I can tell you now that I had never seen a rainstorm like it. We were outside but undercover and it still surprises me to this day that it didn’t cave in from the weight of the water. It was absolutely pouring it down and it came so fast no one knew what to do – our poor waiter was still ferrying food back and forth having to cover all the plates of food in what looked like meals on wheels covers and not only this, he looked fit to enter a white t-shirt competition with his white uniform soaked though.

30 minutes later the rainforest-style deluge had downgraded itself to a light shower and we headed on foot back to the hotel. We tried to hunt down a taxi at every corner but they were full of all the other poor damp souls being transported to their warm, dry room. So, we ended up walking all the way back soaked through and dodging puddles. The night finished with me hair-drying my shoes at goodness knows what time in the morning and us chuckling about our amusing adventure.
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Old Oct 7th, 2014, 03:32 AM
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The ties between Nice and Italy go back much, much further than the 1940s. Nice (Nizza in Italian) was part of the kingdom of Savoia from the middle ages to 1860. Nice was a thoroughly Italian city most of that time, and was considered part of the Italian region of Liguria, and was one of the cities of the League of Genova. As a border area, it was contested between by the French, and the population was partly of French and partly of Italian origin. Nice was actually conquered by Napoleon in the late 18th century, but it was returned to the Kingdom of Sardegna at some point, which was ruled by the Savoian king.

The population of Savoy was always partly French and partly Italian. Giuseppe Garibaldi, the hero of the Italian wars of unification, was born in Nice.

During the wars for the unification of Italy, the reign of Italy was offered by the Italian patriots to the Savoian King Vittorio Emanuele II. In return for the support of France (under Napoleon III) in the ongoing wars, the king offered to cede Savoy and Nice to France. There was a plebiscite to confirm this decision. I've read that Garibaldi was heartbroken to see his birthplace end up in France instead of Italy.
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Old Oct 7th, 2014, 05:41 AM
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Hi Rileija - we were also in Nice this past June. No rain though. That cute little town with the bay on the road to Monaco was probably Villefranche sur Mer. We stayed in Villefranche three days. Very much enjoying your report. I'm especially reliving sitting on a bench the first day on the Promenade facing the Mediterranean.
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Old Oct 7th, 2014, 06:28 AM
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Tagging in. Great TR so far.
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Old Oct 9th, 2014, 01:53 PM
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bvlenci - really fascinating, i didn't realise it had such connections

Micheline - I've just googled Villefranche sur Mer and it certainly looks like the area, thanks for this!

johnnyomalley - thanks, i'm really glad you're enjoying
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Old Oct 9th, 2014, 01:55 PM
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Bambi on a bike and a beautiful end to Nice

We woke up quite early the next morning (and somewhat drier than when we went to sleep) and made our way down to the breakfast – as per our previous visits it was uneventful and not really that delicious. I have to reiterate again, if you want your hotel to have a good breakfast, it is not the place for you.

If you remember from my previous posts I mentioned Velo Bleu (blue bikes) which we were looking forward to – well today was the day we were going to try them out. Today was also the day that I was going to learn a little something extra about my OH!

For reference, the Velo Bleu site it’s: http://www.velobleu.org/

There are several bike racks on the promenade (and many more around the streets of Nice) which we could choose from and luckily for us there was one quite close to the hotel. We made our way over and after a bit of confusion we realised we had to create an account via our phone (thoughts go to my precious minutes!), link our bank card and in theory we’d be on our way. But of course it was never going to be that simple…

We phoned the number on the info stand and all we were hearing on the other end was a recorded message in French. Not being able to speak any more than 15 words between us we hadn’t a clue what this voice was telling us. Absolutely convinced my OH had called the wrong number, I had a bit of a moan (very cringe thinking back), grabbed the phone out of his hand and ‘accurately’ typed the number into the handset and pressed the little green dialling button. Waiting for the phone to connect I had a smug ‘I knew you were dialling it wrong’ look on my face. A couple more seconds passed and nothing – no voice or message. Then as luck would have it, the recorded message played for me and as my face dropped my OH’s face brightened – I guess I wasn’t right after all. A few more calls later we were still getting the same message and convinced there was something wrong with the Velo Bleu line we headed back to the hotel to find some French-speaking staff.

Back at the hotel we explained our situation and checked the number in their tourism folder – it was definitely correct. We ended up handing our phone over to the hotel staff for them to translate. As the phone connected to the message they all roared with laughter – we had simply forgotten to include the French dialling code. Oh dear – I don’t think I’d felt that stupid in a while! We called the number again, this time with the dialling code and like magic, it worked! A little while later (actually considerably later than planned) we had created an account, jabbed our code in the bike lock and freed our fun transport for the day. But again, it was never going to be that simple…

We had to try around 3 or 4 different bikes each to get one that worked properly – this is probably the biggest downfall of the Velo Blue. They don’t seem to maintained regularly so you do get a lot of broken bikes, in some cases we found it was the majority of bikes on the stand. Anyway, we found our bikes and set off, almost. Now I knew that my OH wasn’t the most competent at bike riding as he never learnt as a child, but never has a phrase “not the most competent” ever been such a wild understatement! He was so bad in fact that he didn’t realise his bike was broken when riding, hilarious! Oh the amusement it brought me across the next 30 minutes or so until he got the hang of it – gladly my OH took it all in good humour (thanks goodness!).

The bikes brought us much joy riding up and down the promenade for a while – it’s a lot more fun than you realise, especially the crowd dodging – until we realised it was wine time! We parked our bikes near the old town and walked in to find a lovely little bar. I ordered my Côtes de Provence and I have to say I was getting quite the expert at my French accent for this little phrase considering how much I had ordered over the last couple of days, such a shame we were leaving the next day.

Whilst having our drinks we noticed a sign pinned up on the wall illustrating the changing costs of coffee depending on which time of day you ordered it – a cappuccino being double the price if you ordered after 7. I’m familiar with this being common in Italy but didn’t know about this in France, maybe it’s the Italian connections in Nice.

We strolled around in search for some lunch and in the end headed for a little sandwich shop inside a shopping centre (I know not very cosmopolitan but it was certainly delicious). On the way there I noticed how completely different the area looks in the day compared to night – the small dark alleyways I was familiar with in the night had transformed into bustling side streets packed with hungry diners, a really wonderful sight.

For lunch we both had ham and emmental cheese brioche rolls and a raspberry tart and it came to no more than €15 for both of us including drinks. Very simple but such a delicious bite to eat – far better than any Subway you would get over here.

On the way back to the bikes (as we were hungry for more) we passed lots of little gorgeous boutiques and nipped into a lovely bookshop for a snoop around – Nice really is more than you see in the pictures of blue sea and beach on the TV.

This time on the bikes we decided we would cycle as far as we could go in a straight line without meeting any cars – I didn’t feel up to rescuing my OH from a roundabout as he still looked like Bambi on a bicycle! We cycled right to the end of the promenade and after some hardcore pedalling up quite a steep hill we made it to the area where people go to watch the sunset (not sure if it has an official name) and we knew this would be a beautiful place to watch the sunset so we promised ourselves we would be back later.

A bit more cycling later (and feeling less guilty about the pastries I had for breakfast) we reached the harbour. It was a beautiful harbour (obviously not as spectacular as Monaco) but there wasn’t too many places for you to sit down, relax and people watch which was a shame. After around only 10 minutes we decided to head back – not least because the cycle path ended and I didn’t fancy the responsibility of guiding myself (and my OH) through unfamiliar territory surrounded by cars.

On the way back we enjoyed complaining about our sore bums from the bikes before locking the bike up at the stand closest to our hotel. After a quick shower and change, we nipped to the nearest mini supermarket to pick up some snacks for the evening (including a Babybel the size of my face – no joke) and cycled (yes again – it was so much fun!) to the area we visited earlier to watch the sunset.

Unfortunately when we arrived it was a little cloudy which dampened the view a bit but when the sky started turning orange, I was so excited for the next 15 minutes or so of stunning scenery. Before it began we played our own plane watching game as it’s truly amazing how many planes land at Nice airport in just 30 minutes – most of them actually matched the orange sky with their big Easyjet logo.

And so it began, the fluorescent orange sun brightened the whole sky and everyone around us looked on in amazement. Below us on the beach there was a group people playing some sort musical tribute which in retrospect was a bit odd but at the time seemed to fit the mood. The sunset was over before we knew it and we headed back down to the town (this time on foot) as it was getting a bit chilly.

I was really sad walking through the town as I had enjoyed my short time in Nice so much and was gutted that it was over in a flash – it was then and there that I told myself I had to return one day.

Walking back to the hotel we had a quick play on the pebble beach in the dark as we hadn’t had a chance to until now but it wasn’t quite a romantic as it might seem as after one quick dip into the sea I thought my feet were going to fall off it was that cold!

5am was the alarm we set ourselves before dropped off – we had a 6.25am train to Vernazza.

Italy was calling.
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Old Oct 9th, 2014, 04:50 PM
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Love your report! Can't wait for more!
Thanks for sharing!
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