The French Riviera- Monaco, Nice, St. Paul, Cannes, and Eze

With every new post that comes and goes, my attempts to make them short, sweet, witty, and to the point continuously fail. I am merely beginning to write this one and I already know this will take me quite some time to express every encounter and experience that presented itself to me this past week. First, a small editorial from the last post, I forgot to mention the wonderful restaurant that I attended last Friday with Courtney and her friends. We went to Trattoria al Trebbio where I indulged upon a plate of the seafood pasta special that were very good, the muscles were smaller then I would like, and felt it just needed a little more taste to make it phenomenal. But, what was phenomenal was Courtney’s cheese raviolis. They were so delightful it made my meal taste almost bitter, the sauce was out of this world, the raviolis texture was pristine, and I would definitely recommend that dish to anyone who has the fortune of going there. This restaurant is on via delle Belle Donne, 47, which is awfully close to the SMN train station, and is just very cozy, small but quaint, and filled with a plentiful amount of Italian regulars who would consistently have drinks with the one waiter that serviced the entire restaurant. Without even tasting the food and merely just breathing in the atmosphere of a restaurant, one can easily tell how incredible their meal will be, and this is one of those places. Also, for college kids like myself, the price was very inexpensive, only about 10euro with food and a glass of wine.

Now, back on track to my encounters of this past week. Not much occurred at school, nor do I anticipate much occurring in the near future. Having spent endless hours last semester in the library and slaving away at my desk, it is a nice break to not take all senior level courses, yet part of me actually does miss the stress that accompanies the endless path of homework and the history essays I actually do enjoy writing. The only interesting thing worth mentioning is my cooking class where we made a delicious entrée, …., and then for desert we made a panna cotte with a blackberry and strawberry syrup as the topping. Both were absolutely delightful with every mouthful, but what was very exciting was the fact that this is indeed the intermediate cooking class I was looking for, and in addition our teacher stresses presentation, another aspect of cooking I find very fascinating. In five minutes alone, I learned three different ways of cutting a strawberry to make it look like a flower. Aside from cooking class, that Wednesday night, I searched far and wide on the Google search engine for the best Kebab place in all of Firenze. For whatever reason, kebabs are extremely popular here and you see them spread sporadically throughout the city. After searching many forums, I wrote down the address for a place called Mesopotamian Kebab, on via della Oriuolo 14r, and a few of my housemates, Jon, Pat, Russ and I set off to the Holy Grail of Firenze kebabs (only 4euros) conveniently located only a few blocks from the Duomo, and we indulged upon the best kebab I have ever had in my life. In fact as we were walking back home and reminiscing about our remarkable endeavor, a few passersbys heard the name of the restaurant and went wild about how incredible these kebabs are, thus another reason you should take a trip that way if you visit Firenze.

Considering my weekend officially starts on Wednesday at 4:15pm, that kebab completely tired me out, and also I was in a vicious battle with the common cold, so Thursday I stayed home, drank about a gallon of orange juice, and just spent time reading and talking to my housemates. Friday the real excitement went down as Pat and I traveled to the small hilltop town in Tuscany called San Gimignano. My apologies if I perhaps use the same adjectives in several instances throughout these posts, but my trip has been nothing less then incredible so far so I feel like I’m running low on classy adjectives; that, and my internet isn’t working so I sadly do not have access to Thesaurus.com where I could put forth a façade that I am well rehearsed in the use of inspiring adjectives. San Gimignano is renown for their towers that line the town, their gelato that I sadly did not partake in, and the medieval feel/look it has. I absolutely adore towns such as this one; a town that makes me feel as if I were in one of the scenes of Lord of the Rings and has the ability to make me vividly imagine that every dark/small alleyway I take, a few hundred years ago there were some epic sword battles that took place where I was standing. The two hour bus ride, which was very confusing the first time you use the Italian bus transit, was well worth it as it only cost around 12euro for a round trip and there are no fees when you hit the city, unless of course you want to take part in the tourist trap museums or climb one of the towers where you can get the same view from any angle of the city. But oh my, the views were breathtaking, the hills, the houses, the smoke from the fires, and most of all the smell of fresh beautiful air was enough to render you speechless. After a few hours of walking around we eventually headed back to Firenze.

The Towers of San Gimignano

I almost did not include the following because my words could not possibly do the beauty of The French Riviera justice. But for the sake of writing down my memories, this must be done. For the sake of future reference, the places we visited were Monaco, Nice, St.Paul, Cannes and Eze. My house, everyone except Pat and Jeff, woke up at the dreadful hour of 5am, hopped on a bus, and napped for quite some time in perhaps the most uncomfortable seat ever (the typical European really must be quite a bit shorter then my 6’3½ frame, because this coach bus was more uncomfortable and smaller then the seats on a yellow schoolbus). Our first stop on our excursion of the French Riviera, graciously paid for by the school, and by graciously, I mean they were generous to not keep all the tuition money for themselves, was the second smallest city-state in the world! If you guessed Vatican City as the smallest, you are correct, if you guess Monaco as the second smallest and my first stop on this little jaunt, then you are also correct! I’m just going to spit it out right now, but Monaco was either my favorite or tied for my favorite town, as Eze would be the game changer and put a run for Monacos money.

Monaco was fabulous, especially after having spent the past few weeks having to wear a sweatshirt and jacket, it was almost to hot to even be wearing pants. This small country is surrounded by mountains, which block the wind and create this very warm climate, ideal for the English to choose this as their winter vacation destination. Although Monaco was absolutely lovely, its apparent why the rich and famous have chosen this as one of their homes as property can run around 230million euros, but if I had the money I would probably not choose to live here. It was very pleasant seeing all the rich homes, but they were all so packed together that there was really no beach or land, the only construction they can do here is to either build up or down, every square foot of land is being occupied. Seeing the ocean was very heartwarming as it did remind me of Great Hammock Beach (in OldSaybrook, CT), and Nice especially reminded me of it considering I was able to actually step onto the beach. 

Monaco and my housemates: Ryan, Jon and Russ

After a few hours spent in Monaco, we ventured 30min to the second largest city (and airport) in France: Nice. I’m going to come out and say it right now, but I didn’t think Nice was anything special. This perhaps was due in part to the fact that I was overly excited to step foot on a beach once again, but was knocked back about 15 meters (going with European measurements now) when I found that rather then sand, there were these extremely smooth/white pebbles lining the beach that were extremely uncomfortable to walk on and especially lay on. Foregoing the chance to take a dip in the sea and trying to heal my disappointment with the sandless beach, I took the opportunity to go on a little photoshoot of the beach, dogs, fishermen, etc. As in Monaco, we once again forwent going on the provided tour as all of us agreed that it’s incredibly more exciting to venture off on your own with no motive in mind other then getting lost and finding your point A once again. We spent some time traveling the city after the beach, stopped at a café where my housemates all bought a glass of Leffe beer while I enjoyed my dainty Orangina. Now when I say dainty, I’m not exaggerating as it was the same size as any normal Orangina, but in comparison to the gargantuan goblets that my housemates received, it was very dainty indeed. My intense craving for the French’s soda of choice was quickly extinguished after I realized that both our drinks cost exactly the same price and it took me merely 10min to consume my beverage, in comparison to the entire hour it took them to drink there beverage. The beach and my misfortunes with selecting the wrong beverage were not the main reasons for my dislike of Nice, but the main reason was I felt there was not all that much to do and it looked like a lesser version of Paris. It had many of the same elements and culture of Paris, but it didn’t have the same feel and besides the beach, there was not much excitement. I capped the night off by watching BBC in my hotel room where I caught up on the events in Egypt, watched an episode of The Simpsons, even though it was in French I had seen it before so I was able to get by, and finally crashed by ten o’clock while my housemates roamed the streets in their suits (yes they suited up to blend in with the rich and elite) only to be heartbroken when they could not find any riveting and exhilarating clubs/bars/casinos/whatever else the rich dabble in.

A street in Nice

I was pleasantly woken up the following morning by the sounds of my roommate Jon shouting and stomping around in the bathroom. Apparently he had just taken part in a duel with a cockroach that was inhabiting our bathroom. For those of you who were wondering, Jon in fact did win with one final charge where he threw his shoe and instantly killed the invader. My apologies for this lengthy transition/sidestory, but I will now take you on my journey to the Village of St. Paul, another 30min bus ride. This village was definitely a place worth seeing, but it was very similar to San Gimignano, old medieval village built on a hill with narrow streets and an incredible view, so I will not lament long on this stop. The high point of the trip was buying a nutella/banana crepe that tasted incredible, the low point was getting slightly lost on my way back to the bus. Now I wasn’t exactly lost (so don’t loosing your hair over it mother), but I opted to get the crepe at the last minute and so I only had 5min to get back to the bus and as I existed the gated village I took the left fork in the road opposed to the right fork that would have led me back to the bus. The roads were exactly parallel to each other, thus the reason I thought I was on the correct path as everything looked exactly the same, until I realized I had been walking for more then 5min and I was starting to go downhill. So what does one do when their lost? First they suddenly realize that they know absolutely zero French, and second they flag down the first car that drives by to ask where the Pharmacy is (where the bus was parked). The moment I stopped the car I realized my first realization and my attempts to say “where Pharmacy?” in every possible form that sounded like it could be French absolutely flabbergasted the old couple I was attempting to have a conversation with. After I concluded that this was a lost cause, I started to run back to the village and from there decided to take the other fork which led me directly to the bus. Now I haven’t ran hills in a few months, and I certainly haven’t run hills while balancing a crepe in a while, so by the time I reached the bus after running for a solid 10min, having to endure the banter of my housemates who couldn’t stop laughing at my inability to follow a simple route, and warmth of the bus that was starting to make me glissen all contributed to my crepe not tasting nearly as good as it should have, oh and even though I successfully balanced my crepe, I managed to drop my fork en route.

St. Paul

My next stop on this journey was to Cannes, about 45min away. Cannes was a very nice place, we only explored the main drag by the beach as that was the home to, well the beach, and the theatre that hosts the Cannes Film Festival. We explored the outside of the theatre which included the handprints of famous celebrities (Samuel L. Jackson, the Coen brothers, Mel Gibson, Spike Lee, etc.), had lunch at a local café where my friends all got hamburgers on a giant baguette that was also filled with French fries and ketchup, while I sipped upon a fine cup of espresso (I was still quite full from that crepe). When we went to pay I handed the cashier 10euros and received 3.50euros in change, which left me completely befuddled but I casually walked out of the restaurant as I figured it was my fault for not checking beforehand of how much the espresso cost, merely figuring it would be relatively the same price as an espresso in Firenze which is only a euro. After my friends finished paying and I was starting to build a personal vendetta against this local joint, I decided to ask the cashier how my tiny espresso was 1.50euros more then the behemoth of a sandwich burger that my housemates got. Again, I don’t speak a word of French, but the cashier appeared to understand and simply laughed and started speaking to me in French, so I still don’t know if she was playing a joke on this silly American tourist, or she thought I had also ordered a sandwich, so end of story, I was able to get my money back as it only cost 1.50euros.

Cannes Film Festival Theater

 After walking across the beach and jetties that again started making me quite nostalgic of the summers at the CT shoreline, we hopped on the bus to our final stop to the village of Eze. Now this village was pretty similar to St. Paul and San Gimignano as it had the same medieval feel, but it was so much cooler, wicked, epic, and phenomenal. Now the epicness did not start until after we finished touring the perfume factory that sits at the bottom of the village. Apparently Eze is known worldwide for their excellent perfumes, and I would sure hope so considering a tiny bottle runs for about 20euro. Initially the factory was pretty cool as our first stop was the testing room which looked like Dexter’s Laboratory, but it went incredibly downhill from there as my nose, eyes, ears, and brain were all clogged from the intense mixture of perfumes. So a little background on Eze, its in between Monaco and Nice, so very close to the Italian border, and was built high up on top of this hill overlooking the sea in order to protect the village from the pirates. After climbing to the top of the entrance of the village, I concluded that any pirate who dared infiltrate this village either was extremely brave, cunning, and a relative of Chuck Norris, or they were perhaps the most unintellectual human beings on the planet. Maybe it was running up a steep hill while balancing a crepe for 10minutes or so, but after climbing up an unpaved path, my group and I were extremely exhausted. A little advise to any pirates who read this blog, start climbing at dusk, climb halfway and camp out for the night and make sure to bring plenty of water, then wake up, have an espresso and do your thing. Even though the hike was very tiresome, it was also very incredible and rewarding as the views continued to get better after every step, we saw a GIANT chess board that made start reminiscing about Harry Potter, and the village itself was so much more awesome then the other two of similar sorts. I’m not one who likes to pay for the additional features of a tourist trap, such as fees to climb a tour, explore a tunnel, etc., but I finally caved in and payed my 3euro to reach the highest peak of the village. If it wasn’t so foggy and we could see perfectly across the sea, I may have never returned to Firenze as it was hard enough to force myself down the mountain after experiencing the beauty of the highest point. If any of you have seen Lord of the Rings, this looked exactly like the scene in the first movie where Frodo fights the nazguls, except the view was much more exceptional. Cacti everywhere, a lovely clock tower, the sea, mountains on every side, the giant chess board, and the lovely smell of nature all contributed to this being perhaps the most incredible vantage point I have ever stepped foot upon.

The Giant Chess Board

Lord of the Rings-esque

The View from a top of the peak in Eze

Finally we managed to pull ourselves away, and we traveled back to the bus and started our trek back to Firenze. Typically, I wouldn’t describe our return journey, but it was very interesting as we saw an Italian movie titled, “Welcome to the South,” about a man from Milan who gets transferred to a village in southern Italy and at first absolutely despises it but then falls completely in love with it. It was surprisingly a very enjoyable film and I would definitely recommend it. Anyways, this weekend was absolutely marvelous, incredibly exhausting, perhaps one of the longest weekends I have had in a long time, filmed with excitement and crepes, and I was able to explore a completely different culture and became much closer with my housemates. Oh one last side note, my housemate Jeff, the one from Egypt, actually left and went back to Marist to finish up the semester in hopes of being able to study abroad in Egypt next semester. Back to my main story. As I finish writing this at about 1:45am on Wednesday morning, I am still exhausted from this weekend but start my next journey on my itinerary to Rome in about 16hrs to visit Courtney, her housemates, and the Pope. Until next time, take care, love you all, and hope you still find enjoyment through my writing.

Ciao!