Nice was.... nice?

Okay, so it's been a really long time since I've gotten back from Nice. To be honest, I haven't been looking forward to writing this entry because I have very little to say about Nice. I wasn't "there" when I was traveling because my thoughts were elsewhere. I was homesick and all I wanted to do is go back to Lyon--which is at least somewhat familiar--and rest.

We got there, I was already tired. We found a relatively cheap place to stay that had a hotplate so we could cook our meals instead of going out. I made spaghetti because the French forgot that you put tomato sauce on pasta. In the morning, we went to Eze, which is surprisingly boring for how much money you have to spend up there. I got yelled at for taking pictures 'cause everything is private.

After Eze, we went to the beach. I found an internet cafe to catch up with some e-mails and I also tried calling a friend from an international phone place. It didn't work out.

At night, I went and watched the Barcelona and Lyon game at a bar. Barce kicked our but because they have Therry Henri and Ronaldhino... nuff said.

I got on the train in the morning for Lyon with someone else. Three others stayed on to see more of the south of France. I had had enough.

It was pretty. There were beaches. There was lots of English. It felt really touristy.

That's all I have to say, really. You can look at the pictures, decide if it's the kind of place you want to be at. There are nice beaches, cheap places to stay, and lots of aggressive men.

And now, pictures:

We're off to see the wizard of Eze


Sunny, rocky, oceany. Eat your heart out.

And finally, at the beach...

That's it for Nice. It's a lot like Marseille, but with rich people and no callanques.