Wonderlust: Nice et la Côte d'Azur (the French Riviera)

Although I just started posting about my week in Paris, I figured that I might as well write about my fabulous weekend spent in the French Riviera with my study abroad program.

After classes on Friday, a group of roughly 60 excited students including myself (surprise!) waited forty five minutes before boarding a bus outside of our building on campus. Why were we so excited? Because we were heading to Nice and la Côte d'Azur or, as we call it in English (ick English speakers), the French Riviera. We left Grenoble around 1:15 pm. According to the all-knowing all-powerful being that is Google, the trip from Grenoble to Nice should, in theory, only take 4 hours and 40 minutes. However, according to our program director, Vincent, a silly Grenoblois, 8 hours is more realistic. To be fair, we did stop three times: once for a brief bathroom break, once for a late lunch in a small town called Sisteron, and once more just 45 minutes outside of Nice to stretch our legs. Side note: being from San Francisco, I just pretended that I was making the road trip from NorCal to Disneyland like I used to with my mom years ago, but there were sadly no roller coasters at the end of this bus ride. We finally reached the Côte d'Azur around 9 pm and, although we were all more than ready just to get off the damn bus, I was so stoked to pass signs for Cannes, Nice, Antibes, and St. Tropez. I couldn't stop myself from hearing the voice of the snobby quasi-English old man from "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous" saying funny tidbits about movie stars, yachts, beaches, and luxury hotels ("Champagne wishes and caviah dreams").

We arrived at our hotel in Beaulieu-sur-Mer, a small town just beyond Nice, checked in, marveled at how swanky our rooms were, and decided to get dressed up to go out to dinner and then to check out the night scene. Well, dinner was the only thing accomplished on our two-step Friday night to-do list as by the time we finished eating and paid it was already close to midnight and finding nightlife in Beaulieu-sur-Mer didn't appear feasible. We decided to call it a night in order to get sleep for a jam-packed following day and night.

Saturday morning after eating breakfast, the sixty or so of us hopped back on the bus and headed to Nice. It was a wonderful four hours spent on the beach swimming, tanning, and generally having a great girls day. The light blue color of the Mediterranean was as gorgeous as the water was warm. Kyra, Sabrina and I bonded over being water babies and spent most of our time a ways out in the sea. Although I am a winter girl and find inner peace when bundled up and accessorized to the nines, it was extremely liberating to spend the entire day in just a bikini and no makeup. We said goodbye to the beach in Nice after a few hours and headed to Eze, a small village on the way from Nice to Monaco, where we stopped briefly at the Galimard parfumerie. We got a free tour of the perfume factory and bought a few souvenirs. Immediately after the tour, we all got back on the bus and headed to another country far far away: Monaco. Upon arrival in Monaco, we were all hungry and stumbled upon a cheap Italian restaurant near the Monaco Oceanographic Museum. The food was delicious, the waitress was hilariously sassy, and the conversation was crass. In short, it was a great meal. Afterwards, we unintentionally split up and wandered around Monaco, stopping in different souvenir shops and in front of the painfully plain Palace of Monaco (come on Monaco, step up your game).

After a few hours spent in that area, we got back on the bus (so much bus time) and drove to Monte Carlo, another area in Monaco where we all proceeded to feel homeless and generally bad about ourselves. We reached the Casino Monte Carlo (no, Casino Royale was not filmed there), stood in shock at the heaps of rich people driving Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins, Bentleys, Porsches, Range Rovers, and BMWs, and then proceeded to go to the Cafe de Paris across the way where we got expensive drinks and did an atrocious job of pretending that we belonged in that world. Epic fail. My 15 Euro ($20) mojito was, thankfully, delicious. Frankly, I was happy to spend some time in Monte Carlo, because it only made me more grateful for what I had: a childhood. Why a childhood, you ask? While Kyra, Sabrina and I were sitting at the Cafe de Paris drinking our drinks, sitting next to us were four young girls. The oldest among them couldn't have been older than 14 and the youngest was probably 8 or 9. They were sitting by themselves in a sea of expensive clothing and plastic surgery looking bored as hell. I can only imagine that their parents were inside the casino trying to one-up other rich socialites and wasting way too much money on superficial items instead of spending time with their young children. Although I don't have the audacity to pretend to know their story, such a sight made me stop resenting Monte Carlo and all it stood for, and instead made me thankful for having loving caring parents who, although they drove me crazy growing up because they were (still are) ALWAYS there (hello, only child syndrome), gave me a great childhood. Anyways, after Monte Carlo, everyone was wiped out from 12 hours of non-stop activity and we tiredly welcomed the 9 pm announcement that we were heading back to Beaulieu-sur-Mer. Upon arrival back at the hotel, I showered and immediately hit the hay.

Sunday morning we got to sleep in and it was glorious. Our belongings packed, we boarded the bus for Saint-Paul (de Vence), a small stone wall-enclosed town oft frequented by artists such as Picasso on the way to Cannes. Kyra and I spent a little over an hour walking around the picturesque village that is riddled with gorgeous houses covered in ivy and large potted plants as well as loads of art galleries. After some time in Saint-Paul we headed to Cannes! Being an admitted cinephile, I was psyched to see where the Cannes Film Festival is held each year. However, we were only to be in Cannes for 90 minutes before heading back to Grenoble. Sacrifices sadly had to be made and instead of seeing where the festival was held, I decided to go swimming in the Mediterranean again. Sigh. It was a difficult decision, many people were injured in the process, but I just couldn't pass up one final opportunity to swim in the warm water surrounded by the Alps. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I swam in the Mediterranean Sea and was surrounded by the Alps. Unreal. I figure when I'm a rich and famous French literature professor (everybody laugh with/at me), I'll ask Johnny or Woody if they can get me tickets to the film festival (I'm sure they'll owe me one). For now, I'm a young traveler with priorities. Namely, those of the beach persuasion.

This was our last stop on the trip. After a final 20 minutes sitting facing the Mediterranean eating a sandwich, pinching myself and trying to convince myself that this was real life, that this was MY life, I gleefully got back on the bus and went back to Grenoble. In short, it was an epic weekend.

View on the way to Nice from Beaulieu-sur-Mer