"All alone am I,

since the Wendorfs said good bye . . . " (with apologies to Brenda Lee and anyone familiar with that song from the early 60s).  Well, Air France did it again!  It just seemed too easy Saturday when the "helpful" airline staff found a flight for Sue and Keith leaving Monday morning exactly when they needed it to.  By early Sunday, they'd received an email saying it too had been cancelled.  It didn't help that later in the day, the strike was called off; still no flight and they absolutely had to be back by midday Monday.  So, after eliminating various potential options one by one, it came down to an overnight train from Nice to Strasbourg leaving here at 7 pm. So, we had a late lunch down on the quay then sat on the balcony, enjoying some sun and that lovely Provençal rose wine before the taxi came. Good thing we had a late lunch as it turned out there was no dining or snack car on the train!  While we sat on the balcony, we watched a yacht in the harbour called Samar (it is worth googling). It charters for about €650,000 a week.  Gosh, I could sell my house, use the money to charter it, and be broke before the week was up!  There was a helicopter coming and going from it. When I sent a photo to my neighbour, a helicopter pilot, asking him if that would be difficult to do, his response was "easy peasy".  Well, maybe for him!

Yesterday, I just did stuff around the apartment: laundry, dishes, watering the plants, reading and, oh yes, watching more helicopters come and go from Samar.

Today, Samar is gone but now there are two cruise ships in the bay. It is always changing. Later, so,e friends from Victoria are coming by for drinks and appies before we all go out for dinner. I'm sort of loving this life!

An inland gem

In spite of all the issues with Air France and the bus drivers Saturday, we did manage to get to Saint Paul de Vence located in the hills above Cagnes sur Mer. What a great value that the bus ticket only cost €1.50 each way from Nice!  I'd been there before but wanted to return and share it with Sue and Keith. We got there about 2 p.m. after the chaos at the Air France counter in the airport. We had cheeseburgers (yikes!) for lunch in a cute restaurant on the ramparts then wandered around the village. Not sure if it is designated as one of Les Plus Beaux Villages en France and, if it isn't, it should be.  The little ruelles are adorable and the shops celebrate the products and art Provençal. It is worth noting (and I probably blogged about it last year) that Marc Chagall is buried here and the village is also home to the very famous Fondation Maeght, a major institution celebrating modern art.  This time, we enjoyed just wandering the streets, peeking into the shops and many galleries, and soaking in the ambiance which is so different from Villefranche sur Mer.

Quel horreur! C'etait horrible!

I have been travelling in France for over 35 years now and have always been a staunch defender of the French when anyone says they are rude and arrogant. I have rarely been treated disrespectfully and mostly everyone I have encountered has been friendly. Well, that was until yesterday!  Perhaps, the nastiest people on planet earth are the bus drivers here, followed closely by anyone working for Air France! It all started when Sue and Keith's flight home Sunday was cancelled.  Air France won't let you rebook online so we needed to go to Nice to the airline's office there. However, that office had a "fermature exceptionelle" Saturday - basically meaning they were not interested in aiding anyone!  Unfortunately, the only other option was the airport and, to go there, short of spending €60, we had to take a bus.  Now, we had previously seen bus drivers yelling at passengers who got on at the back door or who tried to leave by the front one. This particular day, however, we were the recipients of their wrath and witness to more of it directed at others several times.  In Nice, the airport bus arrived late. It was empty but when we tried to board the woman bus driver yelled at us to wait as she had to use the toilet - aka "I need a smoke break"!  When we got on the bus, she continued to smoke under the "pas de fumer" sign and scrunched up her face like an apple doll when we spoke to her in French. She then screamed QUOI? at us.  Next, she drove like a mad woman racing through the streets of Nice honking her horn at anyone, pedestrian or motorized, who got in her way!  And, this was not an isolated incident!  At the airport, there is a "navette" (shuttle) between T1 and T2.  It was was at the designated stop but, when Sue and I tried to board it, the driver screamed at us, non, non!  He then pulled forward about 10' and then it was okay for us to get on.  Really?  Later, the three of us were on the shuttle again. This time, when it stopped, the driver didn't open what we thought were the back doors.  Sue and I got off at the front door but, when Keith tried to do the same, the driver yelled at him and made him walk all the way to the back to get off.  Our mistake was that we'd tried to get off at the middle door!  All this in spite of there being no one on the bus.  No control issues there!!!  A little later, a guy tried to board the shuttle and, even though he actually almost had his hand on the door, the driver just pulled away.  No question the driver saw the man and just left him standing there. Hope that didn't cause him to miss a flight. After  their flights were changed (more about that later), we took a bus to Saint Paul de Vence from the airport. At least that was easy!  Sue and Keith had seats behind the driver. In front of them was a sign listing the rules for the bus. The first one clearly stated the use of seat belts was mandatory. Just one problem:  there were no seat belts!  They told me the driver was giving "the finger" to every oncoming bus. Now, I get that the driving conditions here are very challenging - lots of traffic, steep hills and crazy drivers - but I don't think that gives them an excuse to be rude!  Sue, ever being the Libra that she is, said she could understand their anger given the very challenging driving conditions. She is a much nicer person than I!  We've heard the drivers are going on strike tomorrow. Quelle surprise!  Sorry, no photos for this blog. They wouldn't have been pretty!

Been there, done that!

Friday, we went to the Villa Rothschild. Because I've been there twice before, I wondered if it might be a little of "been there, done that" for me.  However, the villa is so stunning that it never fails to impress.

This time, we used an audio-guide which I hadn't done before and it certainly improved to the visit and gave me lots of info I hadn't known before.  As I have written about the villa on a blog on an earlier trip, I won't repeat those details.  So, here is something I didn't know.  Beatrice Ephrussi, daughter of a Rothschild, was a bit eccentric and she doted on her pets which included dogs, birds, fish, and a mongoose - like who owns a mongoose!  One of little chairs on the floor in her salon was reserved for that animal!  At one point, Beatrice arranged a marriage for two dogs which including sending engraved invitations to people and their dogs as far away as London. The ceremony was "officiated" by a bulldog in a top hat and was formalized by putting a diamond-encrusted ring on the bride's paw.  Really???  The gardens were still spectacular and we discovered parts that I hadn't seen before.

In the distance, sitting in the Bay of Beaulieu was Paul Allen's (co-founder of Microsoft) yacht which is called Octopus.  That is worth checking out on Google. It has space to store 2 helicopters in it that is "in" not just "on". What is really clear is that, for well over 100 years, this area has been a playground for royalty, the wealthy, and the famous!  So, what am I doing here except living vicariously!

A nice day for a Nice day

When my friends, Faye and Barry, were in this area in June, they did a walking tour called A Taste of Nice.  They really enjoyed it and, as well, it is highly recommended on Trip Advisor. As Sue, Keith and I are all interested in food and wine, it sounded like the perfect tour for us in a city which none of us know.  Further, it would be a completely different perspective on things than taking a Hop On-Hop Off bus.  So, Thursday morning, we met up with our tour guide, Gustav, and began an exploration of this city on foot.  We were lucky.  Our group was small:  the three of us plus Chloe, a twenty-something gal from Belgium who currently lives in Germany.  First, I have to be honest, I've never been a fan of Nice.  I'm not sure why but maybe it is because whenever I've driven through it the traffic has been a horror; maybe it is because when you pass through it by train a few times all you see are badly maintained beautiful old buildings covered in graffiti; or, perhaps and even more likely, it is because I am generally not a fan of big cities.  Therefore, I'd pretty much already made my mind up that I could not be won over.  Then, the tour began and I discovered I was quite wrong!  We met Gustav at Opera Plage and getting there meant taking a bus from Villefranche to Le Port and then walking around to the Nice seafront by the harbour filled with huge yachts - when is a yacht so large that it becomes a ship?  Our tour started with a brief history of Nice including its roots as part of the Kingdom of Savoy and its strong link to Italy's culture and food.  We learned this while eating orange water flavoured fougasse.  At Patisserie Henri Auer, established in 1820 by a Swiss confectioner, we tasted candied fruit and chocolate. The store is actually more a confiserie-chocolaterie than a pastry shop and the interior is ornate in the Belle Époque style.  It used to be a tea room and, during her reign, Queen Victoria was a frequent visitor.

Next, there was a stop at a pasta shop where they sold green gnocchi called Merda di Can and you don't need to have a lot of French and Italian to understand it resembles, yes, dog poop!  We didn't sample any.

Other stops on the tour were a wine shop where you can bring your own container and have it filled up with your choice of wine; wandering through a market where, at one stall, all the ingredients for ratatouille were displayed together and, at another, there was a fabulous offering of mushrooms including truffles; and a restaurant featuring socca, a chick pea-based sort of pancake where we also tasted meat-stuffed veggies served with wine.

Then, it was on to visiting Nice's oldest (and award winning) bakery; tasting olives and olive oils served with an organic Provençal rose wine in a little gallery; and, finishing the tour at a gellaterie. It was a very interesting and delicious tour.

What made especially good was that most of it was in the narrow alleys of the old town which proved to be way more charming than I thought they would be.  Okay, I'm now a fan and hope to get back for another visit before I leave this area.

A walk on the wild, and not so wild, side

When Paul was here, he told me about a lovely walk ("sentier" en francais) from Beaulieu sur Mer out to St. Jean Cap Ferrat and beyond to Pointe de Saint Hospice. Beaulieu is not far from here so just before noon today we set off walking along Villefranche's beachfront called Promenade des Marinieres to the intersection where Cap Ferrat juts out from the mainland and Beaulieu is on the other side.  It wasn't far. Just past the 5 star hotel called Royal Riviera we started the Promenade Maurice Rouvier.  This is very easy walking along a path suitable even for wheelchairs to St. Jean. Along the way, you get lovely views of Villa Kerylos (now a museum) and David Niven's house. Cap Ferrat is truly a playground for the very wealthy and we were three frustrated "lookie-Lous" when we couldn't see over the fences and gates into what I'm sure were dazzling residences. At least we could see the serious yachts in the bay.

After stopping in St. Jean for lunch, we continued along another sentier called le Tour de Saint-Hospice - although we never actually got to the chapel, statue of the Virgin Mary, and the WWI Belgian war cemetery - around Pointe de Saint Hospice.  For every bit as smooth and easy as the other sentier was, this was the opposite and, as we rounded the point, we could look directly out to sea. Nothing gentle about the landscape here!  As we rounded the point again, we were back in the land of beautiful villas. Next time though, I've got to see the chapel, statue and cemetery which are on a hill in the centre of the point.  They were, after all, what Paul said was so special about the walk!  Me, I'm always drawn to the sea!

Une Bonne Anniversaire!

Yesterday (Tuesday), my friends, Sue and Keith who live in Alsace, joined Kerry and me at La Colline (the apartment).  It was a bit touch and go there for a while as to whether they'd arrive.  Air France pilots have been conducting rotating strikes for over a week now and the Wendorf's original flight was cancelled. Thankfully, they were re-routed from Strasbourg via Orly. What is it with the French and their "greves"?  If it isn't trains, it's airplanes that are hit. It is like it is a national past time!  Anyway, it was imperative that Sue get here as it was her birthday. On arrival, they, like me, gasped when they took in the stunning vistas from the wrap-around balcony in the apartment.  It was quite windy but we still sat out sipping, you guessed it, Provençal rose, enjoying the view.

Later, we walked down to the port where they had the chance to discover the magic of la Vieille Ville with all its little up and down "ruelles" and the charm of the seafront. We'd decided to eat at l'Oursin Bleu where Paul and I had gone and where I'd eaten last year.  It is very good there - the food, the service and, especially, the setting.  So, we had a very fitting birthday celebration with wine and delicious meals and gazed at the yachts in the harbour. Near the end of the evening, Kerry grabbed a votive and ran out on a pier waving it to emulate the fabulous fireworks we'd seen here earlier. I'm not sure she pulled it off exactly but it's the thought that counts!  So, bonne anniversaire, Sue!  You are a most treasured friend.

The lazy, hazy days - or is that daze? - of summer

Well, Paul left Friday morning and, because we'd had a couple of very late nights, I took that day very easy - reading, doing laundry and dishes, watching TV, and generally resting. That is what vacations are for, right?  Around midday Saturday, Kerry arrived. We had lunch sitting on the balcony enjoying the fabulous view.  Later, we walked down to the port where we sat at the edge of the Med sipping rosé.  Later we found a little trattoria where we had a nice pasta dinner.  The thought of walking back up the hill was too daunting so we took a taxi - remember, we are on vacation!  We finished the evening with some more rosé on the terrace and, to Kerry"s delight, there were more fireworks although they were a little further away on the other side of Cap Ferrat. Still, they were pretty impressive.  Yesterday, it was hot and very humid so relaxing in the apartment was just fine with me. Again, that is what vacations are supposed to be about. Today, however, we were invigorated and walked down to the port. The plan was to take the 11 am boat tour of the bay and around Cap Ferrat. If only the woman I'd spoken with yesterday had told me that the boats don't run on Mondays!  You've gotta love the French. However, adept as we are, we went to Plan B which was wandering around the little shops.  Then, gosh, it was noon and very hot so we needed what?  You guessed it, a glass of rosé. At 1 pm we headed to a restaurant that Kerry had found and made reservations for called Les Garçons. The menu du jour was €15 - warm goat cheese salad followed by duck confit. The food was great and the service friendly and helpful.

By then, the temperature had cooled off a bit so I even managed to walk all the way back up the hill from the port. I was quite pleased with myself, although dripping from the heat. I will be like a mountain goat by the time I leave here!  The little ruelles here are so charming and although Villefranche is located among the "big boys" on the Riviera like Nice, Cannes, and Monaco, it still manages to have a small village feel about it which I love.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous

A couple of "serious" yachts came into the bay this afternoon. I always wonder who is on them and, even more, who can afford them!  At 9 this evening I heard loud explosions, made even louder by the echo off the mountains. I rushed from the kitchen to the terrace to see what was going on. I was then entertained by one of the most spectacular firework displays I've ever seen. The first dozen or so were red and heart-shaped so my guess is that it was the celebration of a marriage or maybe an engagement. The show went on for over 20 minutes and I did manage to capture a bit of it on my camera. Wish I'd thought of videoing it!  Anyway, it was very impressive - and no doubt very expensive - for a private display!  Ah, the pleasures of the rich!

We are family!

Well, my cousin Paul (in truth, second cousin but more like a brother to me) arrived a couple of days ago and left this morning.  I hadn't seen him for several years so it was great to meet up and share some adventures. The first night we were joined by the husband of a friend of his for drinks and dinner. The guy is Italian and speaks almost no English so our evening conversation was completely in . That was good, if not challenging, for me!  We ate at L'Oursin Bleu where I'd eaten last year and, again, it was fabulous. We all had different main courses and Paul's scallops and pasta was particularly well-presented.  Too bad the weather was cool and showery so we had to eat inside.

 Yesterday, he wanted to go to La Turbie, a village way up in the hills above Monaco. There is a Roman ruin there called Trophee des Alpes constructed around 10 AD. So, we hiked up to it and then to the top of the tower - lots of stairs!  We felt we'd earned our lunch at a popular restaurant in the village called Cafe de la Fountaine.  My two course was okay but not great - I think the roast chicken I had had hiked over a mountain when it was alive; it was that tough. The people and car watching was great fun - lots of Ferraris and Rolls Royces around here!  Our little Citroen probably felt jealous.

Afterwards, we drove to another charming village north of Vence called Tourrettes which I'd discovered last year and Paul had visited when he was 18. Thankfully, with the car, we could then do a big grocery shop at Super U on our way back.  I am finding the hike up the hill to the apartment from the grocery store quite difficult and Paul liked it no better. After our big lunch, we decided to have a simple meal on our terrace and enjoy the stunning views. Besides, neither of us was keen on the thought of a long, steep walk back up from the quay. So, we enjoyed our rose and relaxed. Life is good!