Our four weeks here seemed to fly and all too soon, it is time to pack for our next adventure. All in all it has been a fun visit but I must say I’m not as sad to leave as I have been in the past. There is just something different about Nice this visit, can’t tell if it is the general malaise that is omnipresent in France, or if it is just our jaded lifestyle. For the past three Saturdays, the Yellow Vests have marched in Nice, their numbers diminishing each week, yet they are symptomatic of a more general problem in France. Immigration is as big an issue here as it is in all of Europe and the divide between ‘the others’ and the French gets larger and larger. Each year we have noticed more and more evidence that Nice is becoming another North African commune. The little Italian green grocer that we have known for years now has Algerian music blaring from her small shop. C’est la vie.
Nice is in a perpetual state of alert, ever since the July 14th incident that killed so many people two years ago. They have a group of French Foreign Legion troops (yes, they still exist) patrolling the Promenade and the major downtown streets. It is hilarious to watch them, these earnest young men and some women who are armed to the teeth. When we lived in Germany during the Red Brigade scare, we would get briefings on how to observe Operational Security (OpSec). We were told to vary our routes to work, check under our cars for bombs, and other really helpful things. First all, none of us could identify a bomb if it was placed under our car and none of us had routines for going to work, but they thought that telling us all this would make us aware of the situations around us. Well these Vigipirates, yes that is really what they are called, never got the briefing. At ten in the morning eight of them pull up to the Promenade in two vans, four per van. They get out, adjust their armor and proceed to walk across the street in a straight line into the McDonald’s for breakfast, which lasts for about twenty minutes. Then they casually patrol the Promenade and the Old Town for awhile and at noon they march into the Bistro du Opera for lunch. Can’t you just hear the conversations of potential terrorists, (Abdul, we have a twenty minute window from 10 to 10:20, but if that isn’t convenient, we have an hour from 12 to 13:00. Where shall we strike?)
In Africa there was a system of drum talk which alerted various tribes to impeding danger. In the old west the native Americans had smoke signals for the same purpose. Here in this neighborhood they have what I call the Mint Tea Signal. I watched with amazement from our balcony several times this visit as the meter man would come by and start to issue tickets for those cars having parked without paying. The minute he came by the corner store (electronic cigarettes and cafe) the owner would come out and warmly greet him and invite him in for mint tea. Then a small kid would run out and go from shop to shop to alert everyone of the impending ticket, and there would soon be a long line at the parking permit machine as everyone purchased at least one hour worth of parking to avoid the fine. The meter man seemed to be okay with this procedure, and life goes on!
We have tried to go to different restaurants this month to avoid falling into a rut, and for the most part it has been an excellent experience. We’ve had two sets of visitors here at the apartment, which make us really want to expand our horizons to show off Nice in its best light. We now have three new restaurants that we would happily revisit since they really promote all that the local markets have to offer. Cindy has gone to three concerts and she dragged me kicking and screaming to one of them, thus she has had a nice cultural break and I’ve been exposed to germs and who knows what kinds of plagues!
This year as every year we seem to really hit our stride the last week - you’d think after this many years we’d hit our stride the first day! But every year is a bit different - this year our morning coffee has been at a stand-up espresso joint that serves true Italian coffee rather than at our former favorite Brasserie. Alfredo the Italian barista usually sees us coming and has our espressos on the counter as we walk in the door, never mind how many other customers are standing around. Small tips and lollipops go a long way.
Our bakery of choice has been the one in our building - yes, in our building! - we sometimes awaken to the aroma of baking bread - and while the products at previous years’ favorite bakery are somewhat better you can’t beat the convenience. The morning clerk certainly knows our faces by now and has been pleasant enough but not exactly friendly (this is France, after all), but today when we walked in she reached for our usual half baguette! As it happened we had decided to have mini pastries today and we actually felt bad - but we certainly smiled and thanked her for being so nice. She’s going to miss us. Ha.
We are off to Italy on Friday, one night in Piacenza to have dinner with our friends Roberto and Maria, then to San Benedetto to check it out as a possible alternative to Nice. Then up to Trento for two days; Augsburg, Germany for two days to reconnect with our landlords from 1983 (you’ll have to ask Cindy why); and then back to Brussels to collect our stuff that we left there and take Meagan out for an early Valentine’s Day dinner. We fly home on the 14th and I’m sure United will have a very special Valentine’s Day celebration for all of us on the flight.
Best to all, Cindy and Wm
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