Sponge Bucket

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 :)

work dat ass, apollo.

back at the market.

apricots!!!

sunflowers!!

nuts and things!!

oh man.

eze village — the medieval village en route to monaco.

hewo!

purrrrrrdy.

hello goat!

there's something off about mary.
(have used this joke before but is clever, no? :D )

monte carlo casino!

the pier-side pool.

not a bad little afternoon.

hola! this shall be a short post as i was only in lovely berlin for a very short time and most of that time i was drinking or drunk or sleeping off the hangover. i am not known for being a party animal but something about berlin got me in the mood... perhaps zis is becoz of zier waging techno scene, yaah?

berlin actually wasn't originally on the itinerary but i decided to go last minute after charlie's time in paris was coming to a close and i felt i had done my dash there as well. the fact that charlie's manfriend, dylan, and our friend who is a man, josh, were to be in berlin at the same time was the icing on the schwarzwälder kirschtorte. so, waking up at 5.30am, i farewelled a sleepy charlie (who would be flying out at a far more reasonable hour) and caught the train to germany. eight and a half hours later, two weary travellers arrived on the doorstep of charlie's german BFF isabella, her BF bernd and their RRRUFFF frida. oh my goodness, how i loved frida. taking her to the park for a game of fetch is one of my fondest memories of berlin. i would throw her ball and she would literally spring (boing! boing!) through the long grass like a kangaroo, snuffle about for a few minutes and then run back to me and refuse to give me the ball. you could see her little mind working at these times: 'i want the human to throw the ball… but it's mine. but i reeeeeally wanna chase after it… but i mustn't let her touch it. i'll put it down so she think it's ok to throw it… haha! sucker! my ball.'

isabella and bernd were every inch as fantastic as their poochy and we had mucho, mucho good times with them. the first evening charlie and i met up with isabella and her friends for dinner and drinks at a restaurant in which it was not compulsory to pay (kinda like lentil as anything for melbourne viewers… the concept still boggles my mind, especially since most of the patrons are uni students or dropkicks who certainly have no intention of paying. how do these places stay afloat?? and in case you were wondering, i paid 2 euros and got a bowl of pasta, a piece of cake and three glasses of vino. so yes, i count myself in the dropkick category). afterwards we met up with the boys and bought many bottles of alcohol for a night-time picnic; however, as luck would have it, the heavens decided to open up and unleash a furious downpour upon us, forcing us to seek cover until it subsided. alas, that’s how i spent my first night in berlin: sitting on a torn-off bit of cardboard drinking beer in a graffiti-covered doorway that smelt like a combination of urine, used nappies, burger king and puke. what a cliché, no?

the next day, charlie, dylan, josh, their friend gabe and i had a day of sightseeing and glorious food consumption, starting off with the best bagel i’ve ever eaten. we headed off on a big walk around the city, beginning the tour in warm sunshine and again being caught out by freezing cold rain. despite seeing some awesome sights, we were a pretty miserable bunch towards the end, with everyone bickering over where to eat, how much their feet hurt, how wet they were, how hungover they felt etc. etc. however, in the end, we found a small italian restaurant that made ridiculously good food, shared a bottle of vino together and spirits were once again lifted. that night was another big one, culminating in charlie losing her passport on the d-floor of a hip-hop club (note to self: you are not rihanna. it is not sexy when you try to be. stop.)

the following morning, while everyone else got to nurse their exploding hangovers like normal humans, charlie and i took a trip to the embassy to get her a temporary passport. this proved to be a much more difficult task than one would imagine, thanks to the numerous vodkas consumed the night before. for one, we had no idea where the club was, which made lodging a police report very, very difficult. the policeman actually laughed at us when we told him this: 'baht ladiez, we need zis informacion to make zee weport!' that night, i ruled out any chance of going out and charlie felt the same. so while the boys went to the infamous club berghein and saw various sex acts carried out before their very eyes, we watched keeping up with the kardashians and ate delicious german chocolate. the next day i knew we'd made the right decision when josh, dylan and gabe kept passing out over our morning bagels (they had not yet been to sleep).

my last night in berlin was a doozy, starting off with bernd cooking the most delicious meal for us (some sort of crumbed ball of deliciousness with mushroom sauce... oh me oh my). isabella and bernd invited some friends over to their apartment for drinks and before long, we were dancing around their apartment while sipping from bottles of spitzi (a combination of coke and fanta) and our good friend, vodka. we decided to head out to this new club that was actually a big garden under the stars, with little fires to sit around and a couple of small ponds. the most hilarious moment of the night came when an über hipster tried to look ethereal and moody by peering into a pond and ended up falling in. oh how we laughed!

i stumbled home to isabella and bernd's the next day at noon after... ahem... spending the night elsewhere. there was barely enough time for teasing (although they definitely managed to) before i had to pack my bags and head off to the train station, only briefly detouring so charlie could get a new passport photo taken in one of those photo booths (a waste of time evidently... apparently you're not allowed to have graffiti in the background of your passport photo... who knew!?)

ok so definitely not a short post, as promised! soz! up next: nice, france! and don't worry, i've already pretty much written it so it shouldn't be too long before it's up. although with my track record, it's entirely possible you won't be reading anything until christmas.

kisses!