Sponge Bucket: nice one, france.

NB: it’s in my nature to use puns wherever possible; however, the fact that france has a town called nice — which just happens to be one of the most beautiful places on earth — is simply too easy. therefore, aside from the title, i shall refrain from unleashing a nice punderstorm upon you, i promise.

so! after stumbling back to bernd and isabella’s at midday, having only had a few hours sleep, i had to lug my monster of a suitcase to the airport where i nervously waited to see if i would have to pay $1 million in excess baggage. thankfully, i had pre-booked an additional 3kg and was able to board the plane with my bank account still intact. i arrived in nice at about 10pm on a rainy sunday evening and made my way to the only hostel i have stayed at on this journey so far. predictably, the front entrance was blocked by four girls in fluorescent ‘I LOVE IBIZA’ singlets and two drunk australian dudes asking them the typical mundane questions asked by all travellers: ‘so how long have yous girls bin in neece?’ ‘aw yeah, and how long are yous travellin’ for?’

those questions, and the fact that i had to fork out 45 euro per night, is one of the biggest reasons why i hate hostels these days. also i have come to the realisation that i do not enjoy the company of young people. grim for a 24-year-old, i know. anyway, this hostel was not the worst i’ve stayed in and despite the fact that i was sharing a room with 11 other girls, it was relatively quiet. i even managed to score the corner bunk, where i promptly hung up my towel to create a barrier that said in no uncertain terms: fuck off. i sound like an awful bitch but truthfully, after the madness of berlin, i was not in the mood for socialising. i wanted a beach vacation by myself where i could read books, watch game of thrones and eat baby belle cheese in peace.

i started my first day in nice with a free walking tour around the town and WOW! amazballs. there is a reason nice is such an iconic european vacation spot… it’s glorious. all of the buildings were painted in shades of yellow, orange, peach or pink, with blue or green shutters and the most wonderful little balcony gardens or green vines crawling all over the front. i was gobsmacked and took about 5000 photos (a good idea at the time but painful later when i had to comb through 20 identical pictures, unable to decide on the perfect one). the only downfall of staying in such a nice town (that was not a pun, merely the logical description) is that the main beach is so crowded with sunseekers, it’s impossible to relax. therefore i decided to catch a 10 minute bus over the hill to the next beach, which — while still busy — was significantly more peaceful. walking back to my hostel that day with a slight sunburn glowing on my shoulders and a passionfruit gelato in hand, i was overcome with how lucky i am to be travelling by myself. i know to some it may seem a scary or lonely task (and i admit, it can at times be both) but mainly there is such a sense of freedom at being utterly anonymous. i did not know one person within a 100km radius and no-one knew me. i could sunbake topless and not worry about bumping into someone from work or my local coffee guy. i could push in line at the ice-cream place and not feel bad because, hey, i’d never see these people again! i could have a pack of double cream oreos and a fanta for dinner that night and not be judged. it was liberating.

the next few days was simply a blur of beautiful beaches, walks around quaint villages and trips to the market to pick up my daily supply of apricots, olives, bread and cherry tomatoes. one day i decided to visit the neighbouring principality of monaco, since it was so close and since i was curious about it. was it a country? was it a city? do they have their own language? a quick wikipedia search revealed that yes, it is a country (the second smallest in the world), yes, it is made up entirely of one city (like singapore and vatican city!), but no, sadly they do not have their own language (the most common language is french). i took a bus there, detouring briefly to visit a medieval village (as you do) and attempting yet another bloody mary that did not meet my expectations. nonetheless, i was pleasantly tiddly by the time i arrived in monte carlo and so took a long, dreamy walk around the pier. however, after discovering the beach i had set off to find would be a gruelling 45 minute walk in the opposite direction, i instead decided to set up at a pool on the pier for an afternoon of beers, baking and books. ahhh... it's a tough life.

up next: my failed attempt to see the lavender fields in provence!! (a gripping read, i assure you).

the scene of a very famous french bank robbery... look up albert spaggiari if you're interested, it's like the plot of ocean's 11 but BETTER!

place massena, the main square of nice.

three of the seven statues of massena square... each represent one of the seven continents :)

main beach of nice.

walking along the promenade des anglais

an old royal house, i don't know the name as i was too busy taking photos :/

look up... you never know what you'll see...

the cours saleya flower market.
(fun fact: the painter matisse used to live in the big yellow house at the end!)

place garibaldi.

bummer dude.

railway on the beach.

sandy thong.

passionfruit gelato & mild sunburn :)

found THE BEST vegetarian cafe, run by an american woman who has lived
in france for 30 years. we spoke about animal welfare for about 3 hours and
exchanged emails at the end. so stoked :)