Well, we're finally "here" - here being France, the date being August 13, 18 days after I left Canada which is 4 months in blog years since its mid-December and I'm finally 2/3 way through recounting the voyages of this international swashbuckler (Obviously, I wrote this regretful note in December and it is now 8 months past that and over a year since I first visited Nice). While Southern France enticed me ever since I saw the movie Ronin, which featured car chases through the narrow streets of Nice and Nantes, my desire to reach Paris almost saw me skip most of Cote d'Azur. Alas, Vianney, my Parisian guide had scurried off to the coast for the pan-European long weekend and so I was stuck here! Poor me!
The beach isn't much to look at, unless you like the nude sunbathers, but the water rivals only that of the Carribbean. Besides the slice of the Adriatic that engulfed Venice, this was the first time I'd laid eyes on the Mediterranean - the ocean at the centre of the world for much of European / Asia Minor / North African history. Doesn't look to shabby for one of the most travelled bodies of water in the history of the world! More than owning its azur title.
Looking East toward the famous resort of Monte Carlo that is only a few kilometres along the oceanside from Nice. Stretches of public beach were interspliced with private, as per usual.
More beach shots just to get everyone jealous. Those with keen eyes might be able to catch some topless.... I've said to much.
The stunning primary colour schema of Nice.
Even Ronin didn't do this movie justice. Many of the streets are too narrow even for European cars.
An open-aire market provides a bevy of colours for the budding photographer willing to stick his lens into people's foodstuffs (no American Pie reference intended).
A crowded square before a church manages to provide some breathing room between the tightly-packed buildings of downtown Nice.
A view from above - hoofing it up a steep hill provides a nice perspective of the town.
Despite its small-town charm Nice sprawls along the coastline and recedes into the distance. The beach is packed with tourists descending from the northern countries and the interior of France and Europe.
The Mediterranean never fails to disappoint.
A view looking East, away from the beaches, toward the harbour. Cruise ships navigate into this sheltered bay to offload chubby tourists in need of shore-leave.
A single tree stands out on the edge of the sharp hill that subdivides Nice (in order to provide me with the excellent vantage point of both halves).
A World War II monument in the side of the same steep hill. This marble masterpiece stares out to sea like the lighthouse further along the point. Also serving as a beacon for the treacherously dark spaces of a memory lost?
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