Saturday, July 24, 2010

Location: Denial, Nice

So I’ve finally broken the code. The way to travel in Europe, especially France, is to be basically be in denial the whole time. Just think of everything in dollars and just forget about the exchange rate. So a Coke is 4 euro. A coke at a bar in DC is going to be 4 dollars. So it’s the same. Remember, denial, denial, denial.

Which doesn’t completely work in Nice. My last full day in Nice I decided to hit the plage (the beach). The beach runs down the full length of the bay in Nice. It’s not a very deep beach, maybe only 20-30 yards, but it’s all rocks. A mixture of little pebbles and decent size rocks that makes it tricky (not to mention painful) to walk on. I decided to opt for one of the private beach areas. I got a “discount” from my hotel for the Sporting Club de Plage so it was only 17 euros. Plus 5 euro for a towel. But I got a lounge chair, an umbrella, and waiter service. I got settled in, lubed up with my various SPF leveled lotions, and then proceed to just read, tan, and slowly fall asleep. I had the Out magazine with Kylie on the cover and I pretty much read every page of it. In the article about Kylie, the author says something like Kylie is like Glenda the Good Witch of the South. I love that. After an hour or so, I decided for an adult bevage. A mojito. 9 euros. Then I pulled on the little rubber beach shoes I had bought and went into the ocean. The waves weren’t bad, but there is no way to gracefully enter or exit the water while walking on all of the rocks. Just not possible. After I dried out from my swim, I had lunch at the Sporting Club restaurant. Pizza and a couple of glasses of wine. 22 euros. Then it was back to the lounge chair where I finished off the book I had brought with me. It was really good. Then it was time for another adult beverage (9 euros). More tanning, more rolling over, more sweating, more listening to my iPod. Oh, and more people watching.

We are talking about some seriously good people watching. The really pale people, the really red people, and then the really tan people. And the really tan, leathery people. I’m glad I only “lay out” 4-6 days a year. And I always use sun screen. Lots of thong bikinis and banana hammocks. Ugh. But I did see some board shorts and some hotties in square cuts. Overall I have to give the people watching a solid B. Anyways, after a good 6 plus hours on the plage, I headed back to the hotel to cool down, clean up, and then head to dinner. So how much did my day at the beach cost? 62 euro. Which is about $85. See, it’s all about denial.

The tour book recommended the La Petit Maison as a good cheap place to eat where Elton John sometimes comes to eat. So the hotel made reservations for me for 730 PM. At 730PM I’m there, and I’m like the third customer. But where do I get seated? At a table that is basically in the street. Cars would go by and the napkins would ruffle. When there was a back up, I could have passed the grey poupon to the guy in the car next to me without even having to stretch a bit. The zuchinni blossom fritters were outstanding. And the calamari was really good. Dessert was pretty awesome also. So a good meal food wise, just not experience wise. Oh well.

The next day I had a massage at the spa at the hotel. I have mentioned that it’s hot, right? Well, it’s not really a good idea to get a massage when it’s miserably hot. She did a good job, but she used a lot of oil and with it being so hot, it didn’t really seep into my skin. I had to use a towel to “dry” myself. Ugh, pretty disgusting. After that, I went up to my room, finished packing, and then hit the train station to catch my train to Toulon. It’s time to go to work!

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