Monaco

Getting to Monaco from Nice is criminally easy. You hop on the #100 bus, pay the driver a euro, and hop of 45 minutes later. So, we went to visit our third day in Nice. Oh, and Robin came with us, too.

We got in at the foot of the ‘hill’ (it’s a ‘hill’ at the base of the Alps. So…not a hill) that the prince’s palace is on top off, hiked up to the palace and got a GORGEOUS view of the country. We didn’t go in (it’s a palace, and we’ve seen just a few of those since we got here), but it was worth the climb just for the view. The entire country is 0.75 sq miles, and you can walk from one end to the other in about 20 minutes (and later we did).

After that, we wandered to the Oceanographic Institute, which was just a wee bit crazy. Mix equal parts royal history, aquarium, and modern art, and you’re pretty close. The ground floor had several samples of sea life that a former prince (who did oceanography as a hobby) collected, pickled, and brought back, as well as some cool/weird modern art. The next floor had a ton of the equipment the prince used while at sea, as well as a reconstruction of his lab. It also had some of the weirdest modern art I’ve ever seen. Think “Bronze statues of skeletons having sex while the entire pedestal is on fire.”

The roof was supposed to be a great view of Monaco, but the floor and walls were solid white, and the sun was reflecting off of them so much we couldn’t see anything, so we left pretty quickly (but not before seeing some tortoises get into a very, very sloooow fight over their food bowl). The bottom floor was an aquarium, which was so-so. After Atlanta and New Orleans, anything else is underwhelming.

After that, we grabbed a couple of sandwiches and ate on the plateau where the prince stashes his cannons. Then, we started the walk to the casino, which was not difficult, but a little confusing. The Monaco Grand Prix had just been the week or two before, and the stands and barriers were still up, so we had to back-track a couple of times. Once we got on the right path, though, it wasn’t bad, especially since we got to ogle the yachts, some of which just made me shake my head. Why do you need a helipad on your yacht? Are you just too lazy to walk from your mansion to the dock?

Anyway, after passing the yachts, we actually made it to Monte Carlo. To get to the casino from sea level, you have to take an elevator up a ways. We weren’t sure we had the right spot, until we noticed that the tunnel leading to the elevators was lined with marble. Once we made it up the hill and around the opera house, we found the entrance, where the cars out front didn’t disappoint. There was Bentley, two Lamborghinis, and a Ferrari in the spots immediately in front. We drooled a bit. Not too close to the cars, though. The security didn’t look even slightly friendly.

Anyway, cameras aren’t allowed in the casino, so no photos unfortunately. Shame, too. The place is GORGEOUS. The ceilings are covered in crown moldings and paintings, gaming tables and bars are all carved hardwood, and there are huge hunks of semi-precious stones set into the ceiling at regular intervals (we saw hunks turquoise, agate, aquamarine, and some others we didn’t recognize that were as big as our heads).

Anyway, Sean and I went into the private salons (no shorts allowed, so Robin had to stay behind), which were slightly more ornate than the main rooms, but the people were a great deal more…serious…about their gaming. We watched some people play roulette for a while, and were just ever so slightly amazed at the money some people were dropping. One guy was playing with 10 euro chips, and would bet 20-30 of them per game. He had a stack of 500 euro bills with him, and he’d change one out for new chips every 3 or 4 spins.

We decided to try our hands at roulette (the only game there that had a minimum bet we could actually afford), so we each got a few chips. I didn’t really consider it ‘gambling.’ I just assumed I’d get none of the money I put down back. Which wasn’t too far off. We played a few rounds just playing red or black, seeing as the odds on playing any particular number were so low we were basically guaranteed to bottom out before we one. One bet was (literally) stolen from me. A guy walked over, picked up one of my chips on black and flipped it to red. When red one, I reached for it, and he shouted me down. I just let him take it. Not a soul in there was speaking English, and I wasn’t about to start an argument in French.

After that, we cashed out (I lost about 20 euro in half an hour), but kept a few chips for souvenirs. Then, we wandered out to the terrace, where we saw a guy playing Baccarat on his own, surrounded by about 4 casino employees. We didn’t see how much he was betting per hand, but we did see three 10,000 euro chips, two 50,000 euro chips, and a 100,000 euro chip in front of him.

Anyway, afterwards, we got our cameras from the coat check, and decided to go see the Prince’s rare car collection. It wasn’t on our map, though, so Sean ran in to ask someone in the casino. He said he walked up to one of the doormen and asked if he spoke English, and the reaction was as follows:

“He looked at me over his Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses with a ‘How dare you talk to me, you grimy commoner?’ look, and responded, ‘Nyuh. Yes.’ I asked if he knew where the car collection was, and he said, “I don’t know. Go that way, maybe,’ and waved his hand in a random direction”

After that, we decided that if we ever came into money, we’d show up at the casino in hoodies and shorts and break the bank, just to spite the bastard.

Turns out, he was waving us in the general direction of the tourism office, so we went there and got directions, after which Sean and Robin were slightly distracted by an odd voltmeter on the wall. We started wandering back to the palace (the map made it look like it was attached), and passed a few realty offices (who pays 1.5 million euro for a 300 sq. ft. studio?). Turns out, the collection is next to the palace on a map, but is, in reality, at the foot of the cliff the palace is on. So, we climbed to the top, realized our mistake, sighed, and climbed back down. The cars were worth it, though. The prince had everything from a Mercedes-Benz concept car, to one of the first automobiles ever made, to a racing boat, to a polar excursion vehicle. We drooled over those for a long while, then grabbed the bus back to Nice.

Nice

(Apologies for the lack of photos. I literally didn't think WiFi could function if the upload speed was this slow. Oh well, I didn't come to Cinque Terre for the internet. I'll upload some when I get to Florence, hopefully.)

Nice is very much a beach town, so we kinda followed a beachy schedule the entire time we were there.

Day 1, we got in mid-afternoon, and it was surprisingly cool, since it had just finished raining, so we just went and chilled at the beach. We walked down the Riviera, wandered a ways down the Promenade Anglais, found a good-looking bar on the beach, grabbed a beer, and sat looking at the water for a while. An excellent day, even if we had to pay 8 euro a pop for the beers. Was also funny to sit there and watch the police driving the lifeguard boat show off to impress the girls on the beach, almost grounding the blade on the motor in the process.

The next day, we did some more exploring, this time along a guided walk in Rick Steve’s guide to the Riviera. We got started at the Hotel Negresco, which can be summed up quite aptly as “old money.” Big, fancy place, covered in portraits, paintings, marble, mahogany, and crystal. The chandelier, by the way, was actually designed and built for the czar of Russia, but he couldn’t take delivery when it was completed, seeing as he was, you know, dead. So, the hotel bought it at a discount. It was funny going in; we weren’t sure if they’d let tourists go wandering around, so we just tried to look fancy enough that we could conceivably be staying there. We figured they wouldn’t turn people away unless they obviously were tourists, in case they were staying there. Turns out that was a good idea, as they had a guy in a suit in the lobby who looked like he was profiling people as they came in.

When we left, there was a team of people getting two girls ready to go parasailing, so we stopped to see how it worked, since neither of us had actually seen parasailers get up in the air. Turns out, they just hook you up to the boat, start driving, and tell you to run. Was fun to watch, especially since we’d occasionally hear one of the girls squeal when they drivers would take a corner. (Keep in mind, they were NOT driving close to the beach, so they had a set of lungs on them).

The next day, we were in Monaco, which will be its own post, but the next day was just kind of a chore day. We hauled our stuff to the laundromat to get some clean clothes, and I ran to the post office to get rid of some souvenirs. Oh, and ship my mom her (very belated) mother’s day gift. The post office was funny; apparently the French dislike for receipts extends to their shipping philosophy. I expedited two packages to the states, dropped them in the box, and left. About a block away, I had the realization that I’d just handed the French postal system around 200 euro of souvenirs, and didn’t even get a receipt, let alone a tracking number. I ran back, and the guy said it was 5 euro extra per package. C’est la vie.

Anyway, after that, I pretty much just wandered Nice on my own for a bit. Wandered around a few shops, through the touristy old city, through the actual old city, and back up the Riviera. Actually saw something in one of the shops that even I wouldn’t eat (yes, Ponnie, it does exist). They took a suckling pig, stuffed it full of scrapple (ears, snouts, tails, etc.), roasted it, then chilled it so the scrapple would recongeal. They sold it by the slice. Also passed a store that sold different kinds of salt, which was actually pretty cool. They had black volcanic salt from Hawaii, blue salt from the Mediterranean, red salt from the atlantic, and a few others.

Pebble beaches

So, Nice is famous for its beaches, but they're not beaches like we think of them. Instead of sand, they're smooth pebbles. It's a lot of fun to look at, but not much fun to walk on or lay on. You pretty much have to buy special shoes and mats if you want to be at the beach.

But! They do have one cool thing about them: the sound.

When a wave hits the beach, it splashes just like it would normally, but when it goes out again, you hear this loud 'woosh' as the water goes through all the little spaces between pebbles. Then you can hear the smaller pebbles rolling and clattering around, which is surprisingly entertaining to listen to.

Folks in Nice and Avignon

Combining these two into one, as Avignon's would be too short on its own, but we met a ton of cool people in Nice.

So, Avignon first. Since we stayed in a hotel, not a hostel, we didn't meet anybody new like we have been through sharing rooms or hanging out in common areas. But, we could only get WiFi in the lobby, and we met an older Japanese couple there when we were uploading photos. The wife was...entertaining. She kept very subtly bragging about how successful she was, and was very careful to note that she was only staying at our budget hotel for a night, because the Hotel Grand Avignon was booked that night. She also said she didn't consider herself a success, but that she owned a few businesses. Sean asked how many, and she said 11 or 12, she couldn't remember -_- Oh, and she flew into Avignon just to see an opera.

Also met a couple on the tour we took of Nimes and Uzes that were funny. Nice folks, but they were just a touch of your typically clueless Americans. When we were in Uzes, they asked if it was supported by tourism, and the guide said no. They were shocked that it could support itself then. 

Wife: "But what does it do! How does it get money?"
Guide: "Umm...normal town things?"

Now: Nice. Our hostel was a small place near Place Massena that was awesome for meeting people. The common area was the manager's office, and every night folks would pile in to talk, swap stories, drink wine, and occasionally head out to a nearby bar (We stayed in. Not my type of place). It was a lot of fun to hear where everyone was going and what brought them to Europe, and we met a bunch of cool folks.

First, Valerio (or Val). His dad owns the hostel, and Val pretty much runs it. Funny guy, knew Nice pretty well, and could play the guitar. I got a kick out of one of the girls attempting to teach him "Sexual Healing." That just became even funnier when I found out the girl was studying vocal performance at Berklee School of Music. Favorite story with Val was when he asked me to check someone in when he got to the hostel, so he could get everyone to the bar. Left me the keys and told me how to buzz him in. So, I think I can officially add "hostelier" to my resume.  Even if the guy didn't show up.

Next, roommates. The first two nights, we roomed with Joanna and Michelle from Alberta in Canada. They were studying in Italy, and decided to pay France and Spain a visit while over here. They also gave Val a bottle of homemade limoncello as a gift, which he then doled out to the rest of us. Again, Val's a cool dude (and probably reading this. Hi Val!). They left after two days to be replaced by a pair of Australians who we didn't get to know well, thanks to one of them getting food poisoning from what sounded like a sketchy kebab. 

Robin was the source of that quote I posted earlier about Scottish rednecks. Nice guy, and smart too. He's going into his last year of Mechanical engineering in Aberdeen, Scotland, and is going to work at BP soon. He came with us to Monaco and put me to shame in terms of shutterbugness. He and Sean also nerded out momentarily at the tourist office in Monte Carlo, where they spent a few minutes trying to read a cool voltmeter. I, of course, didn't tease them at all.

Next up, Adam, from Australia. HYSTERICAL guy, who hopped from hostel to hostel to the floor of a hostel while he was in Nice, based on who was where and where the cheap beer was. Fell asleep on the beach, and woke up with a sunburn in the shape of his necklace (you could actually see the individual links on the chain). He also apparently woke up half the hostel one night (I slept through it) when he was...umm..."fraternizing" with someone else. I'll let you be the judge of what that means.

Next up, some people from the States, finally! (So. Many. Canadians.) Alex and Steven both just finished off med school, and are starting residencies the week they get back. Nice guys, who had a few entertaining stories to share, including a few ways to NOT set an A-line IV, how they remove drugs from drug smugglers' bowels (I'll give you a hint: it involves laxatives and a bucket), and some stories from the ER. And a few medically-backed hangover cures that really got some of the girls' attention. Apparently a Compozene or a Finargin when taken with an IV bag of normal saline clears it right up. And there's apparently a guy in Las Vegas who goes around doling this cure out to tourists. Pay him extra, and he'll actually come to your hotel room. I don't know whether to be disusted or impressed by his entrepreneurism.

Next, Eva and Julia, two girls from Berklee School of Music, studying Vocal performance and music business, respectively. Julia was the girl who tried to teach Val "Sexual Healing," which apparently wants played at her wedding. Eva also played the Piano, even though she's not majoring in it, and has been playing since she was 5.

Isabel showed up on our third night, and came to dinner with Sean, Robin, and me. She's originally from Vancouver (hey, my neck of the woods!) though she's been studying business in Pamplona in Spain for a while. She also spoke way better French than pretty much anyone there, and shared my enthusiasm for photographing dinner.

Finally, there's Stacy and her sister Jennifer (I think. Only talked to her briefly). They only stayed at the hostel for a few hours, as they accidentally booked a bus for 4 am instead of 4 pm. Val called them a taxi and they headed out after a short nap.

Oh! And I'm not sure if you can count them as "people" per se, but we met some guys from UGA there, too. Nice guys, but they apparently got in an argument with some Canadians over whether basketball was better than hockey, and woke up most of the hostel. They did give us instructions on how to play at the Casino Royale, though, so I owe them that!

Anyway, long story short: if you want to meet new people, small hostels >> small hotels.

Updates!

First off; typing this from a French keyboard, which has just a few random characters moved, so apologies for any typos.

(Typed normally: First off; typing this fro, q French keyboqrd; zhich hqs just q fez rqndo, chqrqcters ,oved; so qpologies for qny typos:)

Anyway; I ordered a new chord to be delivered to our hotel in Milan; BUT, amazon.it doesnt have expedited shipping, so there is only a 50% it will arrive while Im there. Im going to book my venice hostel tomorrow; and order a second one shipped to there:

Nice and Monaco are awesome and sunny and gorgeous and way more fashionable than I am. Met a ton of awesome nice people here (special shoutouts to Robin, Isabel, Valerio, Steve, Stacy, and Alex), the scenery is gorgeous, and the sun is warm.

Have a ton of stories (including royal car collections, snooty casinos, and a bunch of new friends), but Ill wait until I have a normal keyboard (one where I can actually find the apostraphe key) to post them!