Nice and Nice

NICE

After returning from Berlin on my own, doing more laundry (of course), and repacking, I traveled by train to Garmish to reunite with Marcia Hampton (see photo), a friend from elementary school. A librarian for many years, she has spent most of her career working at various U.S. Army posts in Germany. The last time I saw Marcia was in Washington, D.C. about six years ago, during a two-year period when she, her husband, and two daughters lived in Virginia. That get-together followed an almost 15-year gap. Marcia ended up reapplying for the job she left in Germany, and she and her family have been there ever since. Once I arrived in Garmish (about an hour and a half south of Munich), Marcia and I immediately picked up where we left off six years ago! Neither of us skipped a beat. Except for some gray hair (mine hidden by a color rinse; Marcia's hidden by her naturally, very blond hair) and the usual aches and pains of our having passed the half-century mark in age, it was just like old times.

Seeing where Marcia and her family live (a "fixer-upper" house impressively fixed up by husband/dad/jack-of-all-trades, Larry), I can understand the draw of Garmish. It's a tranquil town, with miles (oops, kilometers) of wanderwegs (trails) (see photo of me on our walk), mountains all around (from their house, they have a view of the Zugspitze (at 2964 meters (over 9700 feet), it's the highest peak in Germany; see photo--the Zugspitze is hiding behind the clouds on the right), and winter sports galore (Garmish was the site of the 1936 Winter Olympics and regularly holds World Cup Ski and Ski Jumping Championship events). After college, I moved from New York to California to escape the rat race in the Big Apple; Marcia took a different route (via Boston), for whatever her reasons. Now, Larry and she face the imminent departure of their older daughter, Lauren, for college at Wellesley. That distance certainly trumps Brett and Sara's moves to the east of I-5 for college. I explained to younger daughter, Stephanie, that the good news and bad news of her sister's leaving was that now, she would get all of her parents' attention!

Accompanied by Izzy, a mini Lassie (she snuck into the photo of me), Marcia and I took a peaceful walk to a guesthouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (see photo). We savored the homemade cakes and Marcia introduced me to Johannisbeeren Schorle--a delicious mixture of currant juice and mineral water. When the downpour of rain began, we simply moved to a table underneath the eave of the building and continued our catching up. Larry prepared a yummy dinner on the grill, and chivalrously did Marcia's job of cleaning up as Marcia and I kept chatting. We took another walk in the morning (the wonderful scenery certainly makes walking the dog a pleasant chore), and on the way back to the train, Marcia drove to the Army post to show me her work digs. She has amazingly good benefits--far better than I had/have as a federal employee/retiree in the United States. Uncle Sam employs her, but also offers benefits for working abroad at the post (e.g., commissary, USPS postal rates (yes, even with the recent price increase, they are still much lower than in Europe!), moving and storage expenses, home leave, housing allowance, and Sound of Music-like surroundings). I'm glad Henry will be able to join me on a planned return visit to Garmish this weekend!

AND NICE

Nice is nice, and it is especially nice when I could be there with my younger sister, Linda, and her family (see photo). Following the high school graduation of Linda and Eric's twins, Lindsey and Matt, the four of them vacationed for two weeks in Paris and Nice, France. They touristed non-stop in Paris, while Nice was intended to be more restful. Having never been to Nice, or anywhere else along the French Mediterranean coast, I was eager to acquaint myself with the area. Of course, that was secondary to visiting with the Spellmans for three days! Too often, any number of them are occupied with work, school, errands, and other "to-do's". And, with Lindsey and Matt going off to college next month (Lindsey to Washington University in St. Louis; Matt to Wharton (University of Pennsylvania)), it was a perfect opportunity to spend more time getting to know them better. Lest I reveal too many family secrets, suffice it to say, I had a wonderful time.

My trip began auspiciously enough--I managed to wriggle out of a 40 euro fine while traveling on the S-Bahn to the Munich Airport. As in Zurich and other European cities, riding on public transportation is on the honor system. Randomly, however, inspectors enter the buses/trains/trams to check tickets. If you do not have a valid ticket, i.e., one that doesn't need to be punched (e.g., a monthly pass like I have) or one that must be and has been punched, the inspector fines you 40 euros on the spot. Because of the longer distance to the airport, I needed to buy a supplemental ticket to cover the additional zones. The supplemental ticket must be punched prior to boarding the train. Unfortunately, in my haste (no, I was not running late as usual!) and because I don't need to punch my monthly pass, I forgot that no punch boxes are located on the subway platform. In order to validate the ticket, I would have had to go back upstairs to where I purchased it and punch it there. Not wanting to miss the airport train and to wait another 20 minutes for the next one, I played the odds and boarded the train. Considering that neither Henry nor I had previously encountered a ticket inspector in Munich, I figured the odds were on my side. At least luck was still on my side, even when the inspector shook his head at my unpunched ticket. Playing the part of an ignorant, but well-meaning and polite American, I got off with an equally polite verbal warning!

The airport in Nice was conveniently located on a landfill near downtown. However, I am glad my aisle seat did not enable me to see the plane banking in for the landing! The hotel (Westminster) was on the main coastal drag (Promenade des Anglais) and provided a fantastic view of the coast (see photos). Henry would have hated the place, complaining that it was too noisy! For me, the hotel was pleasingly furnished, the staff was friendly and helpful, breakfast was fine (nothing extraordinary, but could be eaten on the shaded outdoor terrace across from the ocean), and the gourmet dinner we had the first night was my favorite meal. And, my roommate, Lindsey, could not have been better! My only complaint about the hotel was that, like many older, "stately" hotels, it needed a face lift.

Nice, with about 350,000 inhabitants, is the second largest city on the French Mediterranean coast (Marseilles is larger). For me, the city's size is a negative. Its beach is also very rocky (not a big deal to me, as I am not a beach person, and not a big deal to the many teens and twenty-somethings lining up to pay 45 euros (single) or 60 euros (double) for parasailing rides (see photos)). On the other hand, Nice is a good, centrally located spot from which to take trips in all directions. In addition, it has a quaint, though extremely touristed (unavoidable in the summer all over the French Riviera) Old Town (lots of narrow streets, a pretty open air flower and produce market, lots of fountains, several museums (Linda and I went to the Chagall Museum (good, representative collection, with an excellent audio guide to his biblical paintings)), and a hilltop of castle ruins (with current archaeological activities) (see photos).































































Despite warnings regarding the hazards of driving along La Cote d'Azur, Eric bravely rented a car in order to have the flexibility of going places at our leisure. At the airport Avis office, the attendant unsuccessfully urged Eric to rent a Porsche or Mercedes sports car for just a few euros more (attaching three of us to the hood might have worked!), and then advised him of the dire consequences of not buying Avis' insurance package. Every scratch unnoted upon rental would be his responsibility--no matter that the car had not been washed prior to the rental and dirt covered pre-existing booboos. Wikitravel recommends renting a well-dinged car precisely so that new dings or scratches won't be noticed upon return of the car! Eric did yeoman service as our driver to coastal Cannes and Antibes (two nights of dinners), and to the inland towns of St. Paul de Vence and Biot on my last day. Usually the driver passing everyone, Eric drove as slowly as I've ever seen him drive on the highway. One mistaken foray onto the A8 was enough for him! The upside of keeping off the highway was that we could enjoy views up and down the coast.

Cannes and Antibes are much smaller than Nice (each has about 70,000 inhabitants), but were equally touristed. Cannes' geographically defining features are the hilltop Gothic church (lit up at night) and waterfront (see photos--James Bond fans can chuckle at Octopussy 1). Antibes' main features are its well restored ramparts along the harbor, and its over 1,600 slip marina (claimed to be the largest in Europe) (see photo).



In Cannes, we had dinner at La Pizza (recommended by Matt) and sat on their terrace, across from the harbor. I've had too many pizzas in my life to be able to recall which was the best, but the pizza at this restaurant certainly ranked in the upper echelon. It's a good thing we were not taken aback by the notice on the menu that the pizzas are served as half circles--one half per person was more than plenty. I overheard the two women who were seated next to us ask a couple of servers to recommend the best pizzas on the menu. Taking their recommendation, I had eggplant pizza--a first for me. It was piled high with grilled eggplant and a cheese that tasted slightly sweeter and heavier than mozzarella. I was overfull after eating a little more than half of the half! As we awaited our meals, I struck up a conversation with the women next to us. We started speaking in French, and continued with a mixture of French and German after I discovered that they are sisters from Hamburg who belong to a group at home that congregates to speak in French and who came to Cannes to visit friends and practice their French. I had a grand time practicing my language skills, and by the time we were finished with our respective meals, the women accepted my offer of my remaining pizza. They simply added it to their take-home "petit dejeuner" package of aubergine pizza!

Our dinner in Antibes (La Daurade), next to the ramparts, was also excellent. The portions were huge--both Eric and Matt received entire fish, including head, tail, and fins (upon their request, the server was kind enough to remove these undesired appurtenances), and I had to leave uneaten some of my delicious fish soup appetizer so I would have room for my Nicoise salad (made with swordfish rather than tuna). Craft and jewelry purveyors were lined up along the ramparts all evening (lest a tourist need a last minute gift for that special someone), while a drumbeating music and dance group sought "tips" as they sauntered along the lane between the purveyors and restaurant terraces. Matt insisted they were the same drumbeating group we heard the night before in Cannes--they were annoyingly poor both nights! (The violin player who serenaded us during one of our lunches in a plaza in Nice was by far the best "play for pay" street musician among the many I have encountered so far this year.)

St. Paul de Vence (about 20 kilometers west and inland from Nice) was a special highlight. It is a pedestrian only village on a hilltop, surrounded by a medieval wall. The narrow streets are "paved" with decoratively laid cobblestones (see photos). The village is a paradise for folks like Linda and me who "need" to get their fix of local color in the form of fine arts, crafts, and jewelry. We did our share of "fixing" at two shops (Galerie MJB had especially attractive blown glass), leaving euros in our wake. (We also found a very "nice" glass shop in Nice--Verre Tige.) Down to the coast and back up another valley, we found our way to Biot, a town known for its glass blowing studios. We were able to watch several craftsmen on the job, heating/blowing/shaping and heating/blowing/shaping some more. Their finished products were not as impressive as what we found in the St. Paul de Vence galleries, but the process was interesting to watch.




The Spellmans dropped me off at the airport with a tearful goodbye, but we were all amused by the special lane designated for drop offs--"kiss and fly". I did just that, but I added a bunch of hugs.