The land of the brie
May. 14th, 2012 06:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peterbirksWell, I arrived in Nice on Saturday, and since then I've not really done anything that I haven't done before, and it has all been very pleasant.
One thing that is different is that this time around I am with Mr Nye. That means we are sharing a two-bed apartment which is considerably larger than the apartments in which I have stayed before, although, like two if the others, it is on Rue Pastorelli.
Another "all-time-first" was that, since we were flying British Airways, we arrived at Terminal 1 rather than Terminal 2. I've never come into Nice from that Terminal before, so it probably took us 35 minutes longer than it otherwise would have to get to the apartment.
We had a cheap lunch (chicken and chips!) at a nearby brasserie and Craig began his so-far-continued trek in search of new beers. This time round it was Paulaner. Then after a bit of a rest we went for a quick walk round the old town and had dinner at Chez Socca. I bought up a random collection of snacks (including the socca) and overall found it disappointing, and overpriced. Socca is a ligurian speciality. It is made by stirring chickpea flour into a mixture of water and olive oil to form a loose batter, and baking it in the open oven. People come back from Nice raving about it. I remain unconvinced.
On Sunday we walked around the cour Saleya in the morning and then caught the 17 bus up to the Monastery to look at the Jazz Alleys and at the Roman ruins. The museum was free, and Craig managed to find a detachable sword. The we walked to the Franciscan church and found Matisse's grave.
The Matisse Musseum.
Craig and his sword.
The Archaeological ruins.
The obligatory bird picture for Webley.
There was a "May Festival" in the Jazz Alleys park. I phoned for a cab to take us home. This was what they sent.
On the way back as we waited for the 22 bus, a nutty woman started talking to everyone. Then, FCL (fuck Craig's luck), she decided to sit opposite us on the bus.
In the late afternoon we visited Le Chateau, the oldest part of Nice, way up on the hill. Craig is not too hot on the steep climbing bit, so we caught the lift (another first for me). That was free as well.
the obligatory shot of Nice from the Chateau.
And again.
Craig about as near as he was willing to get to the edge.
The port from the Chateau.
Craig by The Cascade, built 1885, presumably to celebrate finally, after 18 centuries, getting the water supply up there. That, or the end of the drought in Watford. Not sure which.
Me in front of The Cascade.
After that we were peckish, so we went to the Rue de France and stopped at the first decent-looking place. The service started off mediocre, but got better. There was no way that Craig was gong to finish his risotto, so I thought I had been rather meanly done by with my moules mariniere order (plus frites, obv). But then the waiter asked me if I wanted more, because it was "all you can eat" for the mussels order. I might have managed three pots if I'd been more determined, but I settled for two.
The Mussels Restaurant on Rue de France. All you can eat for, er, E14.60 I think.
Two old blokes, both stuffed.
It being Sunday, we had spent part of the day watching the Grand Prix, and another part of it watching the results of the football. We did pass one pub that was showing it live, and if I had had a clue as to the excitement that would ensue, I might have stayed to watch it!
The Grand Prix had a certain relevance because today (Monday) we went into Monaco to "walk the course" for the next GP, on May 27th. They actually had a "historic GP" on the 13th, but I doubt that we would have been able to see much if we had gone there. But it would have been nice to try.
Monaco.
Craig.
The start of the tunnel.
Craig In the tunnel.
Me in the tunnel.
In front of the harbour in Monaco
On The Track!
Craig. No mad people around.
A picture taken by Craig (as several of these were -- see if you can spot which!).
Two old blokes on the track.
self-timed by me.
The famous "swimming pool" of the Monaco track.
Presumably after the historic GP, someone got a bit drunk at the post-race party and couldn't for the life of them remember where they parked their car.
In front of the Button and Hamilton pits.
After that, we got the bus to Menton, and ate lunch in an Italian restaurant where, since we were so close to Italy, the staff spoke Italian. It was a weird local Italian though -- nothing like the accent (or dialect) that I heard in Rome.
I am going to try to make these giant meringues.
The old Cocteau museum.
The new Cocteau museum.
It was quite a long trip back (90 minutes or so), and we headed for the Monoprix where, lo and behold, FCL, a mad man (well, a drunk, actually) planted himself in the queue directly behind Craig.
My theory now is that, because Craig looks slightly eccentric, mad people stand close to him in the hope that, by comparison, they will appear less insane.
___________
One thing that is different is that this time around I am with Mr Nye. That means we are sharing a two-bed apartment which is considerably larger than the apartments in which I have stayed before, although, like two if the others, it is on Rue Pastorelli.
Another "all-time-first" was that, since we were flying British Airways, we arrived at Terminal 1 rather than Terminal 2. I've never come into Nice from that Terminal before, so it probably took us 35 minutes longer than it otherwise would have to get to the apartment.
We had a cheap lunch (chicken and chips!) at a nearby brasserie and Craig began his so-far-continued trek in search of new beers. This time round it was Paulaner. Then after a bit of a rest we went for a quick walk round the old town and had dinner at Chez Socca. I bought up a random collection of snacks (including the socca) and overall found it disappointing, and overpriced. Socca is a ligurian speciality. It is made by stirring chickpea flour into a mixture of water and olive oil to form a loose batter, and baking it in the open oven. People come back from Nice raving about it. I remain unconvinced.
On Sunday we walked around the cour Saleya in the morning and then caught the 17 bus up to the Monastery to look at the Jazz Alleys and at the Roman ruins. The museum was free, and Craig managed to find a detachable sword. The we walked to the Franciscan church and found Matisse's grave.
The Matisse Musseum.
Craig and his sword.
The Archaeological ruins.
The obligatory bird picture for Webley.
There was a "May Festival" in the Jazz Alleys park. I phoned for a cab to take us home. This was what they sent.
On the way back as we waited for the 22 bus, a nutty woman started talking to everyone. Then, FCL (fuck Craig's luck), she decided to sit opposite us on the bus.
In the late afternoon we visited Le Chateau, the oldest part of Nice, way up on the hill. Craig is not too hot on the steep climbing bit, so we caught the lift (another first for me). That was free as well.
the obligatory shot of Nice from the Chateau.
And again.
Craig about as near as he was willing to get to the edge.
The port from the Chateau.
Craig by The Cascade, built 1885, presumably to celebrate finally, after 18 centuries, getting the water supply up there. That, or the end of the drought in Watford. Not sure which.
Me in front of The Cascade.
After that we were peckish, so we went to the Rue de France and stopped at the first decent-looking place. The service started off mediocre, but got better. There was no way that Craig was gong to finish his risotto, so I thought I had been rather meanly done by with my moules mariniere order (plus frites, obv). But then the waiter asked me if I wanted more, because it was "all you can eat" for the mussels order. I might have managed three pots if I'd been more determined, but I settled for two.
The Mussels Restaurant on Rue de France. All you can eat for, er, E14.60 I think.
Two old blokes, both stuffed.
It being Sunday, we had spent part of the day watching the Grand Prix, and another part of it watching the results of the football. We did pass one pub that was showing it live, and if I had had a clue as to the excitement that would ensue, I might have stayed to watch it!
The Grand Prix had a certain relevance because today (Monday) we went into Monaco to "walk the course" for the next GP, on May 27th. They actually had a "historic GP" on the 13th, but I doubt that we would have been able to see much if we had gone there. But it would have been nice to try.
Monaco.
Craig.
The start of the tunnel.
Craig In the tunnel.
Me in the tunnel.
In front of the harbour in Monaco
On The Track!
Craig. No mad people around.
A picture taken by Craig (as several of these were -- see if you can spot which!).
Two old blokes on the track.
self-timed by me.
The famous "swimming pool" of the Monaco track.
Presumably after the historic GP, someone got a bit drunk at the post-race party and couldn't for the life of them remember where they parked their car.
In front of the Button and Hamilton pits.
After that, we got the bus to Menton, and ate lunch in an Italian restaurant where, since we were so close to Italy, the staff spoke Italian. It was a weird local Italian though -- nothing like the accent (or dialect) that I heard in Rome.
I am going to try to make these giant meringues.
The old Cocteau museum.
The new Cocteau museum.
It was quite a long trip back (90 minutes or so), and we headed for the Monoprix where, lo and behold, FCL, a mad man (well, a drunk, actually) planted himself in the queue directly behind Craig.
My theory now is that, because Craig looks slightly eccentric, mad people stand close to him in the hope that, by comparison, they will appear less insane.
___________
