The angel of death and a big bowl of pasta

Is there anything in this world sweeter than a fresh cup of coffee (and a free one at that) on a warm, sunny spring morning? I wager there is not....(this actually has nothing to do with this post, I’m writing retroactively, with a cup of morning espresso so good I had to share) Ahhhhh....

A view of the pebbly shore and the gorgeous water of the Cote d'Azur beyond

Day one in Nice was our day to explore this little coastal city, to hope for a little beach time, and to find some good food. This is France after all. We slept in a bit and went out to the empty terrace to finish off the tomato and mozzarella, brie and baguette that we had prepared for dinner the night before (the wine was gone). The sun was shining between intermittent cloud cover. Large puffy white clouds loomed over the narrow opening above the enclosed terrace. But it was relatively warm. It seemed like a decent day. 

We started out in the old town, walking through the dense alleyways, taking our time and enjoying what was left of the morning. We eventually made our way south through the maze towards the water. It was pretty breezy, not exactly sunbathing weather but the sun that did manage its way though the cloud cover shone down upon the beach and the water, illuminating the colors that make this area famous. The end of the long promenade culminates in a bend in the road that wraps itself around a steep cliff wall that leads straight up to a towering bluff atop which lies a park. On the other side of the bluff is Nice’s port and marina, a deep crevice in the steep mountains. We walked up to the bend in the road along which the promenade led and ended. Below the promenade were some sharp rocks that led down into the crashing waves as the sea, aided by the onshore breeze, plummeted the coast. And a little pathway of cracked cement steps led down below the promenade to the jagged rocks below. The adventurous people we are, we decided to explore a little. The path led down and the forked left and right. Right led to a small, metal walkway (missing some portions in the footing along the metal grating) above the water, nearby and above the beach, and to a platform and an overhang built into the side of the wall that held the promenade and road above. This platform was painted a light blue color and was deserted. Below, the waves were coming in and closing the space below the platform, in and out, as the sea ebbed and flowed to the shore nearby. If the sea water temperature wasn’t as cold as it was, the clear turquoise color of the water and the depth of the clean sand below inviting a jump, we would have done it. But we were fully clothed. And the undertow looked strong. Probably not a good idea. We then turned back and followed the fork left to the jagged rocks that we had seen before. We climbed and clambered a little, staring out at the mesmerizing sea in the distance, watching the brave sailboats hang on to the heavy breeze that blew ashore.

Another view from the top of the bluff, this one even better than the one from the day before

Lissy, Nice in the background

After awhile (it was getting chilly) we turned back and climbed back up to the promenade and looked up at the bluff above. There was a small set of steps built into the side of the cliff wall that led to the top of the bluff and to a panoramic view of Nice and the sea, the same panoramic view I was trying to find the day before, and then decided to save, except that I had approached from the old quarter, a more zigzaggy route up a sloping hill. We made it to the point at which I turned back yesterday, took some photos, and then continued upward. There was a pretty little fountain a little further up, or rather, a waterfall fountain built into the side of the cliff wall. Water dribbled down the side of the wall, flowing into a steady a waterfall, flowers and ferns growing from the top. We climbed a little further, up to the top of the waterfall, and then eventually to the top of the bluff for the panoramic view we had been searching for. It was beautiful. The sea opened up in all its sapphire glory to the south. The mountainous, rocky cliffs, met the sea to the east, and Nice flattened out to the long beach that stretched to the horizon in the west. Nice is a cluster of low buildings, topped with the same red tile roofs as Italy, and sprawl to a larger basin and valley collected by a ring of high green mountains whose peaks broke into the clouds above. It was a remarkable view. On the top of the bluff was a large park, and the sun was still shining. We walked around awhile and to the other side of the park where we could see the yachts of the marina below in the narrow inlet of a port. We made our way a little further inland along the bluff, close to where I had climbed the day before. We found an old French cemetery. I didn’t know this, but French cemeteries, especially older ones, tend to be extraordinarily elaborate. Rather than simple tombstones, each grave site was covered by huge, decorated slabs of marble, some topped with statues or small mausoleums or other structures. We wandered our way through the cemetery, feeling a little sheepish, but the place was so pretty that we couldn’t help ourselves. One ominous grave site was covered with a 15 foot high elaborate statue of angels and other figures, topped by one large angel. If you walked right up to the base of the statue and looked up at the large angel above, she would be looking down, straight at you, one arm pointed to the sky, the other pointed right at you. It was really, really creepy and as if she was saying, “You there, you are next!” Yikes! We walked back out of the cemetery and retraced my path from yesterday down to the old town and away from the bluff.

Our view of the port of Nice though the trees of the park high above the marina

Me, in the park

The waterfall along the cliff wall leading to the top of the bluff

The old French cemetery we walked around in

The angel of death herself, one finger pointing to the sky, one to me. Creepy....

We wandered around a little longer, stopped in at a little pizza place for a quick slice, and then walked back to the hostel to relax on the terrace. By now the sun had hidden behind some clouds, and it was a little chilly, but the terrace was wide open and it was still bright outside, warranting the use of sunglasses. We bought some more wine and chatted for a long while, listening to the musings of Alt-J, a new discovery of mine (a recommendation from Tim, my Dutch friend from Chengdu), an excellent alternative band from Leeds. The scene was perfect. Eventually the French husband and wife owners of the hostel who live on the floor above, joined us for awhile. I can’t emphasize enough how very cool these two people were. We asked them a few questions about the area and we were able to confirm that there was a bus, for one euro, that would take us up and down the coast. With this in mind and the French couple to help us, we devised a plan to spend the next day taking the bus east into the mountains to a small village called Eze Village (pronounced ezz villazhjhjjhhhzhh), famous for its perfumeries and small castle atop a huge bluff over the sea, and then hop the bus in the same direction further to Monaco, famous for its F1 races and casino in Monte Carlo. And the next day we’d take the bus west, along the shoreline towards Cannes, famous for its annual film festival. But the French couple also recommended to us an excellent choice for dinner, a place popular with locals for its generous portions, reasonable prices, and high quality, lines out the door late into the night. 

Our slices of pizza for lunch, they look more appealing in person

So after awhile of lounging and socializing, we went out to find the recommended restaurant on a small side street shooting away from the crowds of Avenue Jean Medecin. They were right, this place was popular. It was evening, around 8 o’clock, and there indeed was a line out the door. There was a covered terrace that spilled into the street, blessed heat lamps within, and two floors with tables inside the building. There was not a single seat free and the place was classy, well dressed waiters and waitresses, bow ties neatly in place, tending to the masses. Since we were just two people, we were seated pretty quickly up on the second floor. The menu was simple, a choice of pizzas, pastas, and seafood, like most restaurants in Nice, but looking around at the other tables and the dishes that lay before the jaded eyes of customers, we could tell they were far from ordinary. We received a basket of bread and some delicious French butter (France has the best butter I’ve ever tasted) and then our meals were placed before us. We had a slice of pizza for lunch so we were thinking more along the lines of pasta. I ordered a large plate of penne, cherry tomatoes, basil, smothered in fresh parmesan cheese (I did that myself) that was provided in a small dish for both of us. Lissy ordered a plate of vegetarian ravioli. And we finished every bite. But we weren’t used to such lavish meals, we were stuffed. After our leisurely meal, we rolled out of the restaurant, making way for two more eager restaurant goers. We went back to the hostel and crashed. A truly excellent day.

My dinner of penne and crushed tomatoes

Tomorrow was our chance to see a bit of the coast, the famous blue coast. We were heading east. And we were excited.