Hey everyone,
After my wild evening of playing quarter euro slots for 5 minutes, I was in bad need of a little R&R. Luckily for me, I happened to be a 10 minute walk from one of the most famous beaches in the world. So I rolled out of bed and headed to the water to see what all the fuss about this French Riviera thing was about.
As you can see, this is not a bad venue for getting a bit of sun. I'm really regretting wasting my digs at some of our less than ideal beaches in the Gulf area in previous posts. This is going to severely hamper the arsenal I'm going to have at my disposal to be my usual hilarious self (crickets heard in background here. . .).
It wasn't all beaches and babes though. Old Town Nice was very nice (get it. . . Man I am on a roll today). Again, we see the usual characteristics of a medieval quarter with the closely grouped buildings and narrow streets. I wandered around here for an hour or two.
This is just a shot to show you how clear the water actually is. The whole body of water is this beautiful blue and you can see all the way to the bottom.
This is a good time to discuss the issues I have with Nice. As I'm sure most of you are aware, European dress codes at the beach, especially at this beach, are a bit more "liberal". As I did not want to offend my gracious hosts (I am a representative of our country after all), I had no choice but to be ok with this. So, much as I hated to, I forced myself be excited about hanging out on a topless beach. And, indeed, there were many many ladies running about free of the chains that modern man has previously placed upon them. Here's the thing though: every single one of them (Every. . .Single. . .One) have someone in their life who has used the following phrase: "I love you
(Great) Grandma. You're the best
(Great) Grandma in the world". Raise your hand if you thought I'd be shaking my head at all the 20 year old girls at the French Riviera because they were wearing too many clothes. What is the world coming to? I think I need to sit down. . .
In the 19th century, a bunch of rich British folks decided they needed a nice place to walk in Nice. So they built the Promenade des Anglais that runs up and down the length of the coast. It's really a very good idea because. . .
This is what you would be walking on otherwise. Yes the water is beautiful, the weather is perfect, and the sun is shining, but these rocks are not made of dead sponges or anything. And lest you think these are mere pebbles, I used one as a "pillow" when I took a seat at this spot. Sunbathing is possible, but only if you have a cot. Still really pretty, but needless to say, beach volleyball was not in the cards.
As far as scenery goes, Nice lived up to the billing and more. I'm not much of a beach bum, but even I thought this was worth the day and a half to check it out. You just can't get scenery like this anywhere.
After leaving all the pretty people, I headed back to get ready for my train out to my last country of the trip, Italy. Hate doing this, but I'm going to have to end this one on a rather sad note. What you see here to the left is my last crepe. I don't really know how this manna from God has slipped by the people of North America, but I can assure you, I will do everything in my power to get the word out of the awesomeness that is this nutella filled bit of goodness. . . that and the Traditional Bavarian Dresses from Oktoberfest of course.
