We have stayed in Nice many times but always in the cold months. We thought we would try it in the warmer months to see what it was like so we came for ten days in early September. BIG MISTAKE!!
This is not our Nice, it is the Nice of sun lovers, party animals, families, Russians, Scandinavians, and others in search of the last rays of sunlight to tan their hides. It is horrible and to be avoided. We arrived on a Friday and our Uber driver told us that starting the next day there was an Ironman competition with 57,000 participants. Saturday was for the women and Sunday for the men, which meant that our precious Promenade was to be closed for two days. The horror!
We settled into our AirBnB which was roomy but basic and lacking most things needed for a ten day stay. It set the tone for the next ten days, which were to be less than perfect. On Saturday morning we tried to go to the Promenade (thinking maybe we could get onto it despite the Ironman), but were rebuffed by marshals protecting the rights of the runners and bikers. We walked instead on the main streets of Nice, which were clogged with support people and tourists. The next day we decided to not even try the Promenade and instead walked up to the top of a park that is two miles above sea level, or so it seemed as we walked and walked and walked on switchback paths. We finally got to the top and there were no views of anything, just trees, a thousand dogs off-leash, and sincere hikers with scrawny arms and legs like a Michelangelo detailed anatomy sketch. Our legs were aching and we couldn’t for the life of us figure out whose idea it was to do this insanity!
We finally got home, fueled by an exceptional cup of real Italian espresso, and then cleaned up for our Sunday lunch. I’m a sucker for Sunday lunches. I remember living in Italy and after the church services, extended family groups would go to a trattoria and spend three to four hours eating, drinking, laughing and generally having a ball. We found a perfect place near Place Liberation that we had noticed in years past and made a reservation. We had to wait for thirty minutes but there was a bar and I enjoyed a pastis while observing the dynamic of the restaurant. It was a mixed bag from singles to extended families all served by experienced waiters who moved with the precision of ballet dancers, twisting and turning with a fluidity that sometimes seemed to defy gravity. From my perch at the bar, I could also observe the two barmen filling orders with the speed and alacrity of a well-tuned pit crew. It was a most acceptable way of spending thirty minutes.
Our luncheon was spectacular! A shared dozen fresh oysters, the freshest tuna you can imagine done to perfection (for me), and an avocado and shrimp salad for Cindy which she declared to be divine. Rosé for me, Chablis for Cindy - and groans of contentment filled our corner of the room. We wandered home in a haze of satisfaction and took a well-deserved nap for an hour or so, establishing a routine for the next week.
As it turned out, that was the highlight of the ten days! Monday was an okay day but too many people everywhere. You forget that your memories of special places are usually locked into a particular time of the year. While Florida can seem dreamy in December, it is painful in August, and so it is for us in Nice. We prefer the cold season when the Promenade is for the locals and the restaurant people have time to chat with you and serve food that isn’t meant to be consumed with your fingers. Tuesday it rained all day, which was fine for us since we had the Promenade all to ourselves and even rain-soaked we received our typically sunny reception at our favorite bar where we had our coffee and daily chat with the owners who tolerate my French and love Cindy’s questions about vocabulary.
The last really fun thing we did was Tuesday night, which involved a lovely dinner at a favorite restaurant. The next morning I woke up at five feeling a bit funny. I went into the bathroom and within five minutes had managed to expel everything I had consumed for the past month from every part of my body that allowed expulsion. This pattern continued for the next three days, with periodic timeouts for chicken bouillon, sips of water, and very long periods of sleep. Not sure what caused it - could have been a bad oyster, could have been a stomach flu, could have been damn near anything - but it struck with a vengeance. Luckily Cindy was spared the brunt of the illness; she was out of service for only about a day and never had an issue with violent expulsions. I highly recommend this illness for those that are trying to lose weight really quickly!
We departed a few days later, sad that our experience had been less than perfect (as we have come to expect in Nice). To make sure we don’t feel bad about Nice, I’ve just booked us for three weeks, Christmas to the middle of January. I’m sure we’ll find ‘our’ Nice then.
Best to all, Cindy and William
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