Bonjour Nice!

DAY 4: THE HIDDEN TROPICAL PARADISE – NICE, FRANCE

After an extremely comfortable and scenic train ride along the coast with the TGV France, it was nice to arrive in a sunny and tropical paradise; we were now in Nice. To get to our accommodations we needed to walk about ten minutes along one of the busiest boulevards in all of Nice. As we walked in a single-file line to the right of the sidewalk, the city of Nice became more and more striking; however there were not many people out. There were hardly any cars that lined the streets and hardly any shops that were open; essentially, the only thing that could be heard were the wheels of each suitcase clack along the colorful, cobblestone sidewalks. As we neared our hostile, which was close to the Nice beach, we noticed that nothing was open because it was Palm Sunday. The only crowds that could be seen were lining the churches, all dressed in bright, vibrant clothes and holding the green and yellow palms in their hands. The multicoloured churches that stood in front of patches of blooming flowers that lined the streets were beautifully decorated with palms standing oh so straight along the walls and railings. The arrival at the hostile was quick. We changed into a more summer-like attire, as it was about 35 degrees Celsius out, had a short meeting with the large group and we were on our way. The first thing that I did was walked along the little quaint streets, making my way to the long beach along the Mediterranean. The narrow, sunny streets were lined with shops that were all closed, however that didn’t stop me from peeking inside at the nice, handmade gifts that stood at the glass window. To get to the beach, we needed to cross through the quaint town square. As we crossed the tinted-pink stones along the town square, the burgundy tram raced by and sounded its bell to warn people that it was on its way.

We walked a little further, behind the circle of palm trees that moved with the breeze and there it was, the silky blue water that gently flowed in and out of the pebbly beach. We ran across the street and down the stairs, took off our shoes and dipped our feet in the cool, April water. The beach extended for miles, to be honest, I had trouble seeing the tip of this paradise. I stood and simply smelled the tropical air that flew by, it was nice to smell the suntan lotion; this was one particular smell that I wasn’t used to as Montreal doesn’t have many beaches. I looked far into the distance and watched the little children happily run into the water, drop themselves under and occasionally bend down to pick up the colourful pebble. Couples walked along the sandy edge of the beach, holding hands, letting the cold, but tropical-blue water flow upon their feet when the tide would come in. I stood still, listening to the waves of water lightly crashing along the shore, onto my oversized feet. I looked down and watched the beautifully rainbow coloured pebbles be pulled in and out with the water under the penetrating sun. This was my idea of paradise and despite the fact that it has been a long time since I have been to a beach, this made it all worth the wait. My friends and I kept to the right most side of the beach, where the water receded. After a half hour or so on the beach, we took a few snapshots and decided to go up a lookout point, one we were informed about. As we placed our sandy feet into our shoes, we were off and walking along the bicycle path, one that extended along the entire city of Nice. The tall and wide palm trees surprised me, as I really never realized France had so many diverse and jaw dropping types of plants. The seagulls that soared and cawed up above flew in circles, around most of the little side walk bistros and terraces, after all, these birds are hungry.

After walking up hundreds of stairs, we had finally made it to the top lookout point. Before looking out towards the city, we watched all the families eat their picnics, we watched the boys play soccer, using the trees as the nets, we watched the little children eat their ice cream cones that dripped and melted quickly when under the sun, and we watched all the smiles and laughs people were having on this beautiful, Palm Sunday afternoon. We made our way to the edge of the lookout point and gasped in amazement. In the distance were tall mountains that lined the perimeter of the city. The pink, terracotta roofs were dispersed throughout the entire city. I watched the vendors on bikes selling little ice cream cones to the tourists that walk along Promenade des Anglais, also in amazement. I looked out in the other direction and watch the sun shine and glow over the light blue waters; I watched the sparkling fishing boats return full from the horizon. I listened to the occasional Church bells that echoed between the buildings and up to this lookout point. As the wind blew softly, all that could be heard were the voices of the one hundred or so different types of plants soaring with the air. Did you know that there were cacti, palm trees or even banana trees in Nice? I certainly did not! After admiring the city, we went to the little ice cream shop at the top of the lookout point and bought some cones – mine was called Cornet d’Arachides, this means peanut cone, it was delicious and just what I needed. I was loving the heat, but my mouth was dry and the ice cream with the occasional peanut chunk that slithered down my throat was just delicious.

Later that day, we too went to take a walk along Promenade des Anglais. I stopped in the occasional open souvenir shop to buy a few colourful magnets (3 for 1₤), a pretty good deal. We walked for quite a long time, watching the couples eat on the outside terraces, having the lovely glass of French wine. On our way back, we took the Nice tram, just to say that we had been on one. The horde of people on that modern train was just overwhelming, however reassuring, knowing that public transit was big in Nice – for that matter, it was also very cheap (2 tickets for 1₤). We stopped at Garibaldi station, which was about fifteen minutes away from the hostile, so we walked back slowly as the sun set. We passed a massive fountain that extended for about twenty meters. It was made up of several components, all shooting and spitting water into the warm air. As we approached the hostile before the cloud of dark would flush the blue sky out, we watched the street performers work their hearts out and dance away.

As the street lights turned on in a synchronized fashion, all at the same time, I stared out of my window once more before sleeping and embraced the smell of the sea air that wafted into the room. I listened to the silence of the night once more and knew that this place, Nice, was a hidden tropical paradise.