From Manarola we travelled to Nice by train. Although we expected to be able to do this by an inter-city express train, when we tried to book our seats we were told that all seats were already taken, so we had to take a local train. This was OK but made for some interesting moments. The train from Monterosso was supposed to leave from Platform 3 but just as the train pulled in an announcement said it was on Platform 1. So we had to do a mad dash off Platform 3 down the stairs, under the tracks, up the stairs, and onto Platform 1. But we made it. Travel tip No.2 - Take note of Travel tip No.1.
Then, when the conductor came to check our ticket, we suddenly realised that we had forgotten to validate our ticket. He was not amused and scolded us and said that the fine was 50 euros. He then started to write something on the ticket and Fran turned on the charm, thinking he was writing a fine. But he wasn’t, and so we now know the value of a smile in Italy is 50 euros. Travel tip No.3 - In Europe, don’t forget to validate your train ticket before boarding.
In Ventimiglia, on the border of Italy and France, we had another interesting time when we had to purchase tickets for the French part of the trip. Of course, just as we started to struggle up the steps with our suitcases, etc. a train pulled in and a million people swarmed down the steps which, seconds before, had been empty. Adrian’s bulk came in handy and we managed to avoid being carried along in the rush by using a suitcase as a battering ram. The trip from there was very relaxed until the train pulled into Monte Carlo when we were again swamped by a horde of commuters who were not very happy to find their routine interrupted by some pesky tourists. Travel tip No.4 - Don’t arrange to arrive in a city by commuter train at knock-off time. But we survived their annoyance and found our hotel in Nice without any problems. The train trip along the coast provided interesting scenery and the time seemed to pass quickly.
Our hotel in Nice is in a pedestrian area, which is to say, is in the centre of the tourist area near Promenade des Anglais. The meal we had was tres ordinaire and the waiters more interested in the final of the UEFA club championships (soccer) than in doing their job. Then we spent the next morning wandering around the Colline du Chateau (the hill above the port in Nice) providing some amazing panoramic views and later sauntered through the old town. We swam at the beach later in the day, which has hard pebbles to sit on, not soft sand as in Australia. While Adrian had a power-nap, Fran checked out the Lonely Planet for restaurants and came up with a beauty. It was a little family-owned restaurant in the old town called La Table Alziari and, although Fran had only a limited choice of food, the meal was delicious. Adrian thought it was the best meal we’ve ever had in France. We were seated at a table next to a young lady from Germany who was a language teacher and visiting Nice during her holidays to get first-hand experience in the French language. She ran out of luck with us! She’d travelled to NZ but didn’t go to Australia because she was worried about all the dangerous things (snakes, spiders, sharks, jelly fish, etc.). We had a great chat and didn’t get home until after 11 p.m. It was one of those wonderful experiences you unexpectedly have when you travel.
On Friday morning off to the open markets for breakfast. We needed an open space because Karen was confused about where she was. So while Fran looked at the flowers, Karen looked at the sky (to find some GPS satellites). On the way there, we were about to cross a road when a police convoy comprising 3 motorcycles, police van, and another car, all with sirens wailing, came along, scattering pedestrians and causing chaos. As the car came past us we were startled to see both driver and passenger wearing black masks and what looked like anti-terrorist gear. The passenger had a gun pointing out the window, directly at us. We think they were just escorting the van, which was a prison van, but it certainly shook us up having a gun pointed at us at point blank range.
Our hotel in Nice is in a pedestrian area, which is to say, is in the centre of the tourist area near Promenade des Anglais. The meal we had was tres ordinaire and the waiters more interested in the final of the UEFA club championships (soccer) than in doing their job. Then we spent the next morning wandering around the Colline du Chateau (the hill above the port in Nice) providing some amazing panoramic views and later sauntered through the old town. We swam at the beach later in the day, which has hard pebbles to sit on, not soft sand as in Australia. While Adrian had a power-nap, Fran checked out the Lonely Planet for restaurants and came up with a beauty. It was a little family-owned restaurant in the old town called La Table Alziari and, although Fran had only a limited choice of food, the meal was delicious. Adrian thought it was the best meal we’ve ever had in France. We were seated at a table next to a young lady from Germany who was a language teacher and visiting Nice during her holidays to get first-hand experience in the French language. She ran out of luck with us! She’d travelled to NZ but didn’t go to Australia because she was worried about all the dangerous things (snakes, spiders, sharks, jelly fish, etc.). We had a great chat and didn’t get home until after 11 p.m. It was one of those wonderful experiences you unexpectedly have when you travel.
On Friday morning off to the open markets for breakfast. We needed an open space because Karen was confused about where she was. So while Fran looked at the flowers, Karen looked at the sky (to find some GPS satellites). On the way there, we were about to cross a road when a police convoy comprising 3 motorcycles, police van, and another car, all with sirens wailing, came along, scattering pedestrians and causing chaos. As the car came past us we were startled to see both driver and passenger wearing black masks and what looked like anti-terrorist gear. The passenger had a gun pointing out the window, directly at us. We think they were just escorting the van, which was a prison van, but it certainly shook us up having a gun pointed at us at point blank range.
However, the French are typically more genteel. As you can see in the photo, they think highly of their dogs here, and this puts new meaning on “taking the dog for a walk“.
Au Revoir
No comments:
Post a Comment