MY EUROPE TRIP: PART TWO - NICE

MY EUROPE TRIP: PART TWO - NICE 

So let me pick up where I left off last time…

Paris…Yes. Paris. The City of Lights. I couldn’t get enough of that place. But finally, there came a time when I had to let go of it.

And my next destination was a small beach city sitting on the French Riviera – Nice. In case you don’t know, I am not expressing my emotion for that particular city. The name of that city is, in fact, Nice. And even though I may not have been as excited as I was for Paris, I absolutely loved beaches. I am wholeheartedly a beach person. Beaches over mountains anytime. And so far in my life, I had only ever been to Goa. Undoubtedly, I was ecstatic to say the least.

So there I was, in the morning, at Gare de Lyon, waiting for my train to arrive that would take me to Nice. The special thing about this journey was that my seat was actually booked for first class!

So, when the train arrived, I merrily went on my way with my big and stuffy suitcase, trying to find my compartment. When I entered the train, I was fascinated. They were very different to your normal long-distance trains that run throughout India. The doors were automated, there was a vending machine and a bar inside the train and there were designated spaces at the start of the compartment where you could keep your baggage.

So, I lifted up my suitcase, kept it on one of the shelves and sat on my seat. But a few moments later, I saw a few people arguing in French right next to me. One of them asked me in English what my seat number was. I showed them my ticket and they were confused for a moment. Then one of the others looked at my ticket and pointed out that I was indeed sitting on the correct seat number, but I was in the second class.

Oh, how I ran that day. You see, the train would only open it’s door for about 5 minutes or so and 5 minutes had already passed. The doors would be closing any minute and one dumb teenager was running around the carriage trying to find his suitcase. At that moment, my mind was like Doctor Strange’s in Avengers Infinity War. I had foreseen millions of futures in the next 5 minutes and in none of them was I succeeding.

I frantically ran out the carriage with my big suitcase and asked one of the officers where I could find the first class. Apparently it was way ahead and I had to cross at least 6-7 train carriages while the doors would close on me any moment. I rushed and I rushed as if my life depended on it. And I hoped to God that the doors would remain open for at least a few more minutes.

*fake drumroll noises 

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And they did. I reached in time and got into the correct compartment this time. I hastily rested my suitcase and sat on my allotted seat, heaving and puffing.

The rest of the train ride went without a hitch. We passed the beautiful French countryside. Vast fields of green, cattle being herded, and mountains in the distance. All of it was really mesmerizing. The little French villages looked so peaceful and enthralling from afar. It would probably be one’s dream to leave behind the stressful city life and move into one of these little cute hamlets. We also passed through the city of Cannes, which had me aimlessly look out the window, trying to find any celebrity just chilling out on the beach.

When we reached Nice, I was in total awe. It was certainly very different compared to all other cities I had ever been. It was bustling with people. It felt so vintage yet so modern. It didn’t feel like a coastal destination at all.

I whipped out my phone and typed in my hotel’s location. But, once again, much to my dismay, I hit another setback. My data was not working. It wasn’t as if I was out of data. I had been carefully using my internet and I had more than enough data left. But for some reason, I was unable to operate Google maps. Now, this was a problem. Had it been any other normal person they would probably think, “Oh that’s alright! I’ll just ask someone for directions!”

But this is me we are talking about. I could not talk to people?! I wondered what I would do. I looked at one of the benches and thought maybe I’d have to spend the night here since I obviously couldn't find my hotel.

Then, I snapped out of it and wracked my brains. I looked around and saw a tourist office. The only people who would be able to answer my questions were in that building. So, I mustered up some courage and went in there. I asked one of the people sitting behind the desk for directions and he gladly explained it to me. He was also kind enough to offer me a map. But I had accomplished a very major task that day and I was feeling very proud. And that ingenious sense of pride had blinded my foresight so much that I happily declined and went on my merry little way. I walked, feeling satisfied that I had been able to approach someone I did not know and ask them for directions. But little did I know that this was not going to be enough. I came to the street as the man had instructed me to but I could not find my hotel. I cursed myself for rejecting his pleas of offering me a free map and scratched my brain thinking what I’d do next.

Through some courage I asked another passerby for directions and they pointed me to a different street. I went there and got lost again. Funnily enough, this time I just wandered around the streets, hoping that by some miracle I’d just stumble upon the right landmark.

And thankfully, that is exactly what happened. I just accidentally reached the correct spot and found my hotel. I quickly checked in, went up the room and called my parents to let them know of my predicament. They were obviously stressed and tried calling the phone company to fix my mobile data issues.

And I felt Paris all over again. The same disdain and annoyance when I first stepped into my room and how I quickly decided to take a tour of the city to calm myself down. So, I did just the same thing at that moment. I grabbed my passport, my wallet, my keys and my phone and went out on my way to find a beach. And that was the best decision I made the entire day.

Promenade Des Anglais. The most famous beach in Nice. Let me describe the scene for you.

Vast blue waters of the ocean, the sun shimmering in the dusky sky at 5 PM, the rays of light reflecting the waters of the Blue and reaching my eyes. There were all different kinds of people spaced out around me, chattering and laughing. The sky, as blue as it gets, glowing and complimenting the evening bliss. The wind, so gentle yet unfaltering, caressing my face. The beach itself was not sandy but rocky. It was covered with small pebbles, perfect in shape. Around me, the city was bustling with life and many bars and clubs were playing music.

Here is a small clip from my Instagram story from that day:

Suffice to say, Nice was nice (pun not intended). The food here was also really delicious. I had some kebabs in one of the restaurants and I absolutely licked the plate clean. Not literally of course.

The next day I’d say that my outfit too was matching with the Nice festivities. I was wearing a blue cotton collared t shirt, with white shorts and white slippers. Since it was a beach destination I was expecting to go into the water and maybe swim around a bit. But unfortunately, much to my dismay, that day the weather did not support me. It was a very gloomy day with no signs of the sun anywhere. Hence, the water was really cold. I decided it was best to just roam around the city and click some pictures.

Nice felt like a very advanced version of Goa. It had multicoloured villas all around but at the same time there were malls and casinos too. But I think a more fitting description of it would be a film set. Yes. To me, most of the times while roaming around the streets I felt like it was a film set. Everything felt as if it was artificially modified to give the feel of a real place. As if, if you saw a building in front of you and if you tried to go inside you’d find out that it’s just a cardboard piece. It also didn’t help the fact that no building in Nice looked bigger than 5 stories.

The best place to visit though was Castle Hill. It was a small sightseeing fort erected on a hill where you could view the entire city of Nice. That was fun. There was even a big market called as Cours Saleya, right in between the city centre where people were selling all kinds of fruits and ornaments.

Overall, my experience in Nice may not have been as good as Paris, but I made the most of it. I came on 7^th June in the evening, went sightseeing on the 8^th and left on 9^th for Italy. Do check out the next part!