Nice Is Nice
Now rumour has it that Montpellier is a very nice place. Sadly, we’ll have to take their word for it. Arriving late last night and making our departure straight after breakfast wasn’t all that conducive to sightseeing and we were in, and out, like a fiddler’s elbow. They did have a tram that rattled past our hotel that looked great, lots of pretty trees lining the footpath and an impressive looking fountain in the river. I can also vouch for the comfy beds and Nutella crepes at our hotel.
Our all-you-can-eat ‘boofay’ breakfast really hit the spot and figuring it was OK to stash a few things away as snacks for later, I filled a couple of serviettes with cheese, crackers, baguettes, cookies and muffins, amid cries from my family that I was stealing food. Hang on, it was ALL you can eat right? I must admit, trying to conceal the contraband was near impossible and, fetching some mighty suspicious looks from my fellow breakfasters, I did feel a tad like I was on the run from the law.
Snacks sorted, as Willie Nelson would say, we were “on the road again”, this time with a deadline as our beautiful Miss Molly was flying home today. Her uni has its holidays out of sync with pretty much every other school and tertiary institution in the country so sadly, after having already missed 2 weeks, she had to go back for classes. Molly’s plane was leaving Nice at 3:40pm but being an international flight, we had to get her there 3 hours before take off. Our GPS had said it would be a solid 3 and a half hours on the road but when I’d checked out of the hotel, the lady on duty had taken a concerned look at her watch and told me it would me more like 4 hours. She moved her arms in a running motion and said “you aff to urry!” Yikes!
Ross was a champion, doing all the driving. To be honest, I think he quite liked the Auto Bahn, fulfilling his secret need for speed and imagining he was Daniel Ricciardo, flying around the track. We were hoping he’d do a shoe-y at the end of the day (I’m sure he’d fit a lot of champagne in one of his boots!) At one stage, we overtook a Porsche and as the words: “gee I wish this Porsche would hurry up” came out of his mouth, we looked at one another and chuckled. That’s not a phrase you’d hear too often. It was very windy on the road today (both in and out of the car) but the high winds really made it hard to control the driving, especially with such a heavy load. Rossco did an awesome job.
Used to seeing kangaroo and koala signs by the side of the road, we were taken by surprise today to see a couple of signs warning there were bulls, horses and….wait for it….FLAMINGOES in the area and to watch out for them! An initial glance at the sign got me excited and I blurted out that there were ostriches in our surrounds. Well, to be fair, the flamingoes weren’t standing on one leg in the picture, which threw me and it was a blur as we drove by at breakneck speed. Sam corrected me and we then had to Google whether or not flamingoes could fly. They actually can but though we were on the lookout for pink streaks across the sky, disappointingly a flamingo sighting was not to be had.
The toll booths caused their fair share of angst today. For some unknown reason, none of the 4 credit cards we had in our possession would swipe in the silly machine, which annoyingly didn’t take cash. This happened at every booth (and there were plenty of them let me tell you) and my normally cool, calm and collected husband became very frazzled indeed. Each time we’d press the ‘help’ button, we’d have instructions booming out in unintelligible French and then have to converse with someone who may as well have been speaking Swahili. Each time, when that light turned green and the boomgate finally lifted to let us through, it was such a relief! A test for our patience that’s for sure.
At one stage in the trip Molly announced that she was busting. Though for a while there was no exit in sight and we seriously thought we were going to continue the Jones tradition of depositing bodily fluids in every rental car we’ve hired, we eventually found a roadside toilet. Molly and Maisy both returned to the car with huge grins on their faces: Molly because she’d had to hang on for so long and Maisy because she’d accidentally triggered the bidet function on the toilet instead of flushing. She animatedly declared that it had “made her day!”
We made our deadline and arriving in Nice with time to spare, decided to check out our accommodation before going to the airport. We were met outside the building by the lovely Jan who was English, making things a whole lot easier. We’d booked this place through HomeAway and it was even better in real life than it had looked in the photos. Usually it’s the other way around. On the top floor of the block, the apartment – with chandeliers, candelabras, big white shutters on all the windows and gorgeous furnishings that are so French – looks out over the city. Jan had left us some wine, cheese, milk and fresh French bread and as she showed us around the apartment we couldn’t believe our luck. It’s amazing!
We got Molly to the airport in plenty of time and were heavy-hearted to have to say goodbye. There were lots of hugs and kisses to send her off and prayers for her safety.
Today was the day, 6 weeks after his injury, that Toby could remove his boot. He was very excited to say the least, leaving the apartment in haste, without his shoes. This was not a good move. The roads were molten and he was scurrying from shady patch to shady patch, limping along as he went. Sam and Maisy walked back for some emergency thongs.
On our way to the beach we passed an incredible patisserie/chocolate shop called Canet. We joked about it being named so because walking past, you ‘canet’ resist buying something! The glass cabinets on all sides were displaying an awesome array of shiny, exquisite, delectable delights that looked more like fine art than edible treats. The detail and design was insane! Matt, Gary and George would have been impressed. Macaroons sat in rows in every colour of the rainbow. We hadn’t even had lunch yet but these works of art were too good to pass up. The French sure know their way around the kitchen!
We walked up the beautiful, famous Promenade Des Anglais, along the beachfront, lined with huge palm trees. It was hard not to think about the terrorist attack that had taken place here. We were also struck by how incredibly blue the water was. It was such a bright aqua it looked like it had been photoshopped. The beach was a hive of activity and different hotels had fenced off sections with their own matching beach umbrellas. The promenade was alive with people and the pebble covered beach was chockas with tanned bodies, not many square inches of pebbles to spare. Feeling the effects of the late night and early morning, I returned to the apartment for a quick nanna nap while the others dived in for a welcome cool off at the beach. Though the water was so blue, they said it was a bit cloudier (or ‘opaque’ according to Maisy) than expected. It was beautiful and refreshing and a welcome relief from the heat.
Toby and Sam discovered the FINA diving championships on tv, coaching Maisy on the finer points of a pike, double somersault and half-twist and having fun guessing the scores. Hours of fun for all the family.
Ross cooked up a storm tonight and we ate out on the terrace, imbibing the warm French atmosphere and being treated to an awesome sunset from our Creator. In other news, we’ve had to call a moratorium on all ‘nice’ related puns. They were getting out of hand. It really is a nice place though.
