VJ DAY

It is the day. I am officially 50. It is 11am here, so 5 am in the States, that gives me one hour till there is no more denying it.

After a 3-hour auto route drive, we pulled in to Nice. We had decided the peage (toll) was worth the time given the scenery is less inspiring than Normandy and Brittany.  The colors in the south are the pale stucco walls and the clay covered roofs and the vegetation is less lush than the northwest.

We checked into our beautiful room; we  upgraded us from garden view to ocean front. The hostess escorted to the suite and cast open the leather covered door to this: 

Hotel Negresco Room114

It was damask blue silk brocade walls and white curtains and bedspread.
The bed was a carved wood headboard padded with a mustard velvet inset. The cherubs on the headboard had a apple with an arrow through it, and one was reaching for the other’s upper chest/breastbud. The bathroom was trimmed with gold toned bathtub and sinks and marble surfaces. Our first bidet of the trip remained unused.
The French window faced east with a fabulous view of the beachfront and coastline.

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 There were the huge terry bathrobes, bath sheets and thirsty bathmats. There was a beautiful wooden closet space and drawers, and space for two open suitcases!!

We organized our luggage, and then opened the French window and savored a light repast on the balcony, overlooking the promenade Anglais and the turquoisey blue Mediterranean. Parfait.

It was 3-ish so we went out to look around. We walked up the way a bit and I made some remark about being able to buy all designer clothes, and then I pointed in a window and said, see these are my colors here, and Jim said, well why don’t you try it on. I said, “Jim, we already shopped in Paris.” He said, “Just try it on.“  We went inside, Max Mara and asked for the dress in the window. The young girl introduced us to a lovely blond tanned stylish woman my age maybe older, who brought not only the dress but two belts and pumps. It is a crème felted wool sheath dress with a contrasting caramel collar. She paired with a wide off white belt and then brought out a luxurious white coat with a fur collar, but which was oh so opulent. She had an alternative caramel colored belted wool coat that Jim said would probably be more reasonable. Then I tried on at least four other dresses, and paraded out for Jim who was so kind in applauding the winners and always saying “Get It!” WOWI landed a burgundy ruffled dress, romantic, a black A-line turtle neck, sleeveless and black boots to match, Sizzle! And the last is a gorgeous flouncy brown print silk dress. We went back to put the bag at the Hotel and then returned to the non-shop side of the Promenade. We found the harbor and the WWI monument. We spied the climb to the old castle, but thought we’d save it for later. There were all kinds of folks running the promenade, and we vowed to do so tomorrow.

The concierge made reservations at Luc Sucleur , a small restaurant, just maybe ten tables run a young couple. The husband cheffed, and his wife served us our fabulous dinner. I decided on a Kir, with the requisite Aligote and Cassis, Jim a had a champagne. A pallet of appetizers preceded a veal salad pour moi and tuna tartare for Jim.  The entrées followed with the chef’s mother’s recipe for meatballs outstandingly light but flavorful. I had a delectable fish. A Pommard paired well with our choices. A cheese plate and then no room for dessert, but now realizing the end is not so far, we try to fit in the favorites memories. I had a calvados and Jim an Armagnac. We seated at 9:30 and dined till after 11 inside. We strolled home and sunk into our luxurious bed!

Then morning sun glimmered off the Mediterranean, calling me to our vow to “run.” I had no running shoes, but the hiking shoes had arrived in the mail at Avignon, and the hiking shorts would fill in. No sports bra, but maybe we’d make it a fast walk?? No, Jim pulled be back and the running strategy was canceled. Instead we decided to play “To catch a Thief” and motor down the middle corniche to Monaco. first to FNAC to get a new photo chip, Jim has filled his entire camera memory. then our to the moyen corniche. The views are cliché breathtaking. We decided to park in Monaco. IT really is like a too perfectly beautiful, manicured, clean with a Disneyland-esque quality. We walked from the casino, which was designed by Garnier, of the Paris Opera House, and thus the casino also has an attached opera.

Opera

It’s surrounded by terraces and water views, that are just over the top. The people watching likewise is replete with designer bedecked men, women and children. I saw a four year old with her iphone !! The Casino is separated from the prince’s palace by a harbor, and I wanted to walk up the cliffside to this geographically unusual rock mesa that flanked the sea. So down and then up, to really just see more of the same, except the palace, which has a fortress-like edifice on one side.

Palace

Guard on duty

We couldn’t be swayed to go inside, the weather was too delightful a l’exterieur. I had hoped to find a café for lunch, we hadn’t had petit dejeuner, but odd but true we only found the touristy cafes in the narrow rues between 3/4 story buildings, tight and claustrophobic, and odd given the overall setting of a palatial city on a cliff.  Jim had spied something he thought would work, and we awalked back to arrive just at 2 at this veautiful Cliffside eatery, with a boules course adjacent. The tables were full and mostly all lined up together as if it was two large groups together, atour group I wondered. Jim asked for a table, but “Oh this is not possible. This is a club prive!!” Oops.
Sadly we ended up back in the boat basin facing one of the temporary carnival attractions  with a fairly lousy, but effective panini. Back to the car, back to Nice via the moyen corniche.  We had asked the concierge to make our TGV reservations for the next day and reservations at the Petit Maison for the evening, both of which he secured.

At this point I was dying to secure getting to beach and getting into the Mediterranean. Despite being at exquisite and upscale Hotel Negresco there was a 12euro charge for the beach, which provided you with a chaise lounge, mattress, towel and umbrella. Wine on the beach was a must and Jim ordered a bottle of Chablis. Delightful, when it came an hour later. The waiter had some crazy story about people leaving without paying, but an hour to get the wine to the customer? Actually at the lousy lunch place, I had half a glass of wine to go and Jim asked the waiter for one more beer and the check, but 20 minutes later, wine’s gone, no beer or check, and in the mean time he had cleared tables. It seemed so odd to me not to get the beer to the table so you could charge for it and get you tip. I made it in the water. Nice has a rocky shore with tons of tiny beach glass, In a few minutes I must have picked up 20 pieces , but all the size of small lentil. The water was just lovely, seemed clean, clear, the rocky bottom is a bit of a challenge, but once your swimming of course it doesn’t matter.  I waved to Jim and he snapped my photo, I am sure more than I realized. He was quite the shutter bug this trip. The beach set up was like the postcards, chairs lined up, one to the next, so that you are lying next to and close to a stranger. Mine was a sleepy sunbather so no matter and Jim had the aisle. We were able to stay out on the beach till 8, near the last ones. Rescued some glasses for RI.

Trying to act my near age, I bathed for dinner, but then changed into the back sequined top with the stretchy black skirt. We confirmed hat we had reservations at Petit Maison, where we were told “important” people eat, like presidents. including Sarkozy. We had walked by it the day before and reviewed the menu and it seemed reasonable. Our concierge said “Yes, 9:30(then noticing it was) but you should be okay if you get there before 10. So we skedaddled over as quick as we could, and on arrival, indicated two for 9:30, Hotel Negresco. I had learned that trick from Phil. The waiter said, “Yes, Negresco, a couple of minutes.”  We waited. Jim took some photos until the hostess, reminding me in someways of  the CAV’s Sylvia, reprimanded him, saying “why do you take these photos, no photo.” I explained it was my birthday, she still said “why he take photo?” and was very grumpy. I was afraid whe would hold it against us, who knows. After half a hour, or more, and watching an empty 6 top sit go unfilled, Jim was ready to leave, but at this hour I was thinking, where to go? And we had only had that lousy panini. Finally they seated us. This restaurant was much larger than last night, at least 15 tables outside. It reminded me of a modern day Bal at Le Moulin de la Galette, sans dancing. One group was lined up for a big party, with the ladies holding the table for the whole time we waited to be seated. It was a birthday celebration for a 72 year old man. The roving troubadour band came in and played several numbers including Happy Birthday.

Our waiter was young, and charming, but not too rapide. They had invited us to sit while they cleared and re-set, but we waited.  Jim ordered a Puligny Montrachet 2007 for dinner, I had a lovely fish soup with “petit bateau” of toasted bread, aioli and parmesan, Jim had salade Nicoise. Entrees were outstanding. Jim had lobster linguini and I had salt crusted bass with ratatouille.  We finished with a small scoop of a vanilla caramel ice cream with fresh berries and Jim had an Armagnac. We left late, getting home about 1. I tried to pack, since it’s always easier the night before rather than the morning after such an extravaganza.

Jim heroically arose this am to get the car to the airport to return. I pulled myelf out of bed at 8:30 to clean up for the TGV trip.

I gathered and assembled all of my gatherings from over the last 6 weeks, new dresses, shoes, gifts, mementos. We headed downstairs. Our viey nice concierge was there. A amiable taxi man escorted us to the Gare with time to spare. We had decided on the TGV, but I was wishing we flew, or better yet, flew out of Nice home and had one more day by the water. But I keep reminding myself everything has an end, and so what a great end to my six week sojourn, two days in Nice/Monaco with Jim. Two exquisite meals. Time on the Riviera, THE Riveria, the original. Our stay in Nice was sublime. The TGV gives me time to write my blog while taking in the French countryside.

Purchases: scarves for friends, bracelet for Megan, ballet flats and purple loafers from Le Petit Parisian in Marais with Erin. The two dresses at St Honore Market, the dress at LuiJo, the poster at Giverny, the salts in Dinan, the spices in Avignon, the candies in Lyon, the lavender sachets in Beaune.  AND The wine.