And here's our view while we enjoyed our pain au chocolat and coffee.
Our hotel is on the other side of that hill. We discussed visiting a museum -- there's a surprising number in Nice -- and decided to visit the museum of contemporary art over the Matisse or Chagall museums because (1) it was close, and (2) it was free. Art connoisseurs, that's what we are.
This was a sculpture outside the museum. It amused me.
The museum included rooftop exhibits, most of which included the gorgeous views.
I especially liked this mirrored piece where you see part of the city reflected.
We left the museum and wandered around, saw a pretty fountain.
And pretty houses.
Our house is almost that exact pink color. I always thought the builders were weird to paint our house pink. Who has a pink house? Apparently every other person in Nice. It is one of the most popular colors. Now I know I just need to get shutters and paint them green.
By then we had whiled away a few hours and started feeling like maybe we needed something more than a croissant and coffee. We considered this place --
-- but decided against it when we couldn't figure out what meal that might be. I know what brunch is (breakfast/lunch) and I know what linner is (lunch/dinner), but flunch left me confused.
We decided to pick a restaurant in the Cours Saleya, which is a street just behind the Promenade.
Our hotel is just out of sight on the far right.
In the morning this long street holds one of the biggest flower markets in southern France. Around noon, the flower merchants start clearing out, and the restaurants put out all their tables and chairs.
We picked a restaurant at random, mostly because they had one of the only free tables on the whole street. After we were seated, we perused the menu and ordered our meal. The two French men sitting next to us struck up what would be the first of many tableside conversations with strangers. They asked if we were British. I don't know what tipped them onto the fact that we were foreigners. Maybe it was because we had to point at the menu to help the waitress completely understand our selections. Or perhaps it was the fact that David would throw in an occasional Japanese word when finger pointing failed.
Very charming (although smoking incessantly), they gave us their unfinished bottle of wine insisting that they wouldn't finish it themselves, and it was a crime to let it go to waste. I probably didn't protest as much as I should have. Introductions ensued, and we learned that our dining companions were Ian and Fabio, although I was a mite suspicious of this since they had to look at each other and confirm that these were indeed their names.
They asked what our plans were over the next few days and encouraged us to visit Monaco. After we mentioned that Monaco was indeed on the agenda for the next day, they asked if we would like to go boating. Ian (or was it Fabio?) gave us his card (which had the name Nicholas on it, by the way) in case we decided we were in the market for purchasing or renting a boat. They departed soon afterwards, giving us a suggestion for lunch in Monaco and also insisting that if we happened to see them again during our visit we must sit down and have a drink with them.
Our bellies full with a delicious lunch and fabulous wine, we decided to climb the hill behind our hotel next. It's called Castle Hill, and has steps to take you to the top. How hard can it be, I thought? The answer -- pretty hard. I stopped to rest here on the pretext that I was admiring the amazing view.
The next time I stopped was about halfway up (the hill is higher than it looks, I swear). My excuse this time was that I wanted to listen to the accordion player that was on a viewing terrace. (Music to climb by.) As we neared the top of the hill, I started getting passed by elderly people, which was really embarrassing. We finally got to the top, and I leaned against the balustrade panting while David took lovely pictures.
We decided to go down the other side of the hill and walk back around through the city streets to our hotel. As we started down the backside of Castle Hill I saw the tourist train, filled with around 200 elderly people, starting to motor back down. That explained a lot and made me feel much better about my performance, although it was still admittedly on the pathetic side. (Note to self: don't eat a heavy lunch and drink a bottle of wine before hiking.)
Feeling mighty pleased with ourselves, we bought a bottle of wine, a baguette, and some snacks and headed back to our room to enjoy the beautiful sunset.
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