Well, at least for the morning. Having dragged ourselves into the light by our normal 11 am, we decided the call of the Musee Chagall, just round the corner according to the map, was too strong to resist. Sensibly, we opted for the bus as, although it was only 2 stops, they were a couple of hundred metres above where we started - not good news even for my ever improving ankle.
Almost forgot to mention - today was day 4 of the strapping so, based on what the doctor/nurse had said, it was time to test it. So we cut off the strapping and decided to chance it! Movement was improved but a bit disappointing as I'd hoped for a miracle cure. Still,progress of a sort.
Anyway, back to Chagall - who even I had heard of! The museum was based around his interpretation of parts of the Bible - predominantly the Old Testament - of which he reportedly became very fond, as he had grown up as a Jewish child in Russia. To cut to the quick, neither Carol nor I got it. We appreciated some of the skill, particularly of the stained glass windows, but felt rather flat about the pictures themselves. Still, we'd given them a go and, if nothing else, it made us resolve to visit the church at Tudeley which has all its stained glass windows designed by Chagall!
We stayed to have lunch in the garden of the museum - basic stuff at extravagant prices! - then caught the bus into town to do the shopping for bits and pieces to take home. We started in Galeries Lafayette on Place Massena - biscuits, foie gras and, pleasant surprise, Raz el Hanout, my spice mix of the moment.
Then it was up Jean Medecin, a real battle wth all the kids out of school/college and in groups going the opposite way, to Monoprix where chocolates and more biscuits were acquired. Etcetera, etcetera!
Come 5.30, we were ensconced in our usual seats at AKAThor drinking our usual libations. 3 of them and we were fit for gnocchi and ratatouille at home.
Then reading, drinking wine and, finally, off to bed!
A demain!
Friday, 3 October 2008
Thursday, 2 October 2008
Carol takes the plunge
Tuesday! What did we do today?
Well, we decided today was a Nice day (note the capitalisation) and also a day when I would attempt to get by without my crutches. Looking back, a degree of success on both fronts. It was also the day we decided to try the local delicacy - Socca.
After our usual slow start, we headed down to the port area by bus and proceeded to look for Chez Pipo, a restaurant we'd been told (by Timeo's parents - remember him?) was the best for Socca. We found it and found it didn't open until 5.30! So we set off for the town. Eventually, we came to Place Garibaldi, which had been coccooned in Heras fencing last time we were here during the completion of the tramway. On the corner, we found a cafe/restaurant that sold Socca, pissaladiere and beer - just the ticket. It turns out Socca is a pancake made with chick pea flour and olive oil - served with black pepper! Despite this, it actually tasted OK and was a good portion for lunch.
It was then time to hit the Promenade des Anglais. We promeneered for a while then we settled down for a lengthy stay near to Opera Plage (and conveniently close to the conveniences!). People watching is the thing to do here and there are lots of people worth watching.........for all sorts fo reasons! After a short while, Carol could resist the lure of the water no more so it was off to the public toilets to change into the gear. I decided my time was best spent in reserving our seats and looking after our belongings!
Off she went (with beach shoes on to protect her feet from the pebbles and sharp sand) and had what looked to be a fabulous time swimming up and down the beach for some 20 minutes or so. When she came back, she reported the water as "lovely" - she always does!! However, she admitted it was freezing to start with but then got better - I've heard that before, as well!
By now,we had decided we would stay in town until dinner time and then go to L'Acciardo, a little restaurant we had been to last time and which was highly recommended by Timeo's parents. We mooched about the old town, resting my foot on occasions (usually easing the pain with a beer or two!) before eventually reaching the restaurant.
Having made no reservation, we had to take pot luck and ended up on a table between 2 couples - on one side, a young French couple (he from Calais but now resident in Nice; she from Nice), on the other side, a couple from southern California, near San Diego. Good conversation flowed with the wine, intermixed French and English, and good food (petits farcis and foie de veau for Carol, assiette de charcuterie and foie de veau for me) - our Californian neighbour, Lawrence, also demonstrated how to make a red rose out of a red paper napkin. A good time had by all!
By the time we had finished, it was too late to catch the bus so we caught the tram to the gare and took a taxi home from there - a complete rip off at €10 but, hey, we were home!
Another good day and my foot seemed OK - we'll see in the morning!
Dormez bien!
Well, we decided today was a Nice day (note the capitalisation) and also a day when I would attempt to get by without my crutches. Looking back, a degree of success on both fronts. It was also the day we decided to try the local delicacy - Socca.
After our usual slow start, we headed down to the port area by bus and proceeded to look for Chez Pipo, a restaurant we'd been told (by Timeo's parents - remember him?) was the best for Socca. We found it and found it didn't open until 5.30! So we set off for the town. Eventually, we came to Place Garibaldi, which had been coccooned in Heras fencing last time we were here during the completion of the tramway. On the corner, we found a cafe/restaurant that sold Socca, pissaladiere and beer - just the ticket. It turns out Socca is a pancake made with chick pea flour and olive oil - served with black pepper! Despite this, it actually tasted OK and was a good portion for lunch.
It was then time to hit the Promenade des Anglais. We promeneered for a while then we settled down for a lengthy stay near to Opera Plage (and conveniently close to the conveniences!). People watching is the thing to do here and there are lots of people worth watching.........for all sorts fo reasons! After a short while, Carol could resist the lure of the water no more so it was off to the public toilets to change into the gear. I decided my time was best spent in reserving our seats and looking after our belongings!
Off she went (with beach shoes on to protect her feet from the pebbles and sharp sand) and had what looked to be a fabulous time swimming up and down the beach for some 20 minutes or so. When she came back, she reported the water as "lovely" - she always does!! However, she admitted it was freezing to start with but then got better - I've heard that before, as well!
By now,we had decided we would stay in town until dinner time and then go to L'Acciardo, a little restaurant we had been to last time and which was highly recommended by Timeo's parents. We mooched about the old town, resting my foot on occasions (usually easing the pain with a beer or two!) before eventually reaching the restaurant.
Having made no reservation, we had to take pot luck and ended up on a table between 2 couples - on one side, a young French couple (he from Calais but now resident in Nice; she from Nice), on the other side, a couple from southern California, near San Diego. Good conversation flowed with the wine, intermixed French and English, and good food (petits farcis and foie de veau for Carol, assiette de charcuterie and foie de veau for me) - our Californian neighbour, Lawrence, also demonstrated how to make a red rose out of a red paper napkin. A good time had by all!
By the time we had finished, it was too late to catch the bus so we caught the tram to the gare and took a taxi home from there - a complete rip off at €10 but, hey, we were home!
Another good day and my foot seemed OK - we'll see in the morning!
Dormez bien!
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
Let the train take the strain
Monday was a day for a day out. The mountains were calling us. So, off on the bus to Jean Medecin to then take a tram to Liberation - close to the Gare des chemins de fer de Provence. This is a narrow gauge railway that runs trains up into the hinterland way behind the cote d'azur - it's also known as the Train des Pignes and runs, ultimately, to Dignes les Bains - a 3.5 hour journey.
Given our usual attention to detail, we weren't ready to travel until the 1250 train so decided to only go as far as an old mediaeval town called Entrevaux, formerly a stronghold on the border between France and Savoy - we're talking before Italy was created as a country, here!
We had our first moment worthy of comment as we were buying our tickets - we heard the lady behind the guichet say something about "cinquante cinq" (55). Not being sure what she was on about, Carol simply said "Cinquante cinq, oui?". Nothing more was said and we paid the €27 asked for. It was only later, looking at our tickets, that we realised we'd been asked if we were 55 or more, as that is the break point for old people's prices! So I was travelling fraudulently! Carol, of course, obeyed the letter of the law! (Like the subtle phrasing?!)
Only a few minutes late, off we set. There were stops in the strangest places - next to a lamp post, behind a hedge, etc - or so it seemed as we wended our way out of Nice through cuttings and tunnels. A unique feature, at least to me, was the idea of "arret facultatif"- essentially a request stop - if you want to get on the train, you put your hand out!!
Once we'd cleared Nice and its suburbs, we were into pretty wild country - high peaks, villages perchees, all the time travelling alongside the river Var, occasionally stopping at some bush or other to let people on and off. The train was pretty cramped - we were towing a carriage but nobody seemed to be using it! SouthEastern trains it wasn't!
Eventually, we reached Entrevaux where the station is, of course, down the hill from the town. So clutching crutches (?) we set off up the incline to the bridge across the river that takes you into the old town through the Porte Royale. This was a town that had been fortified by Vauban, a general of King Louis XIV who was one of the first to get frequent traveller status - he fortified just about every town of any consequence in France. Once into the town, it was all narrow winding streets that we followed, initially, to the cathedral which also formed part of the fortifications. Very French Catholic of its time with an amazing amount of decoration for such a relatively plain town. We carried on round the town finding that one of the common themes was that everything was ferme! We also came across the old town baking oven where a tableau had been put together which, upon pressing a button, scared Carol witless!
Having exhausted the charms of the old town, we went looking for a bite of lunch. There was a bar open that had no food! Another place was a restaurant where we couldn't be sure we'd have had our food by the time the train was due to leave (plus it was more than we wanted to eat, or pay!). Finally, we tried a little empty bar where Monsieur was happy to make us a sandwich. Ham for Carol, saucisson for me - it turned out he'd used the last of his bread to make them so noone else could get any! Washed down with a small beer and costing a total of €11.40 for two, it really hit the spot.
Then back to the station to wait for the return journey. Whilst waiting, we fell into conversation with a couple from Keighley who, it turned out, were here for the first time and were not sure they'd made the best selection of accomodation. We told them our story and they took a note of the Primary Rentals details - wonder if we should bid for commission? They'd also rented a car which, where they were staying was almost essential but it meant they struggled to get into Nice because of the traffic. We shared our experiences with public transport etc and they said they'd probably follow our lead next time.
We ended up sitting with them on our return journey - they were members of a church in Keighley which was struggling - in the middle of an Islamic community with an ageing congregation - how lucky we are at St Stephen's! They agreed.
We continued chatting till they reached their stop at Lingostiere, close to the Centre Commercial.
Once we reached Nice, it was a tram to vieille ville and a couple of beers - who says I'm a creature of habit? Then home for ravioli in home made tomato sauce (had to have 2 goes at this as the first lot of shallots got crispy whilst, a) I was on Skype to my Dad and b) Carol was glued to the TV again). Silent supper!
Then mooched about for a little while then off to sleep again.
Bon nuit!
Given our usual attention to detail, we weren't ready to travel until the 1250 train so decided to only go as far as an old mediaeval town called Entrevaux, formerly a stronghold on the border between France and Savoy - we're talking before Italy was created as a country, here!
We had our first moment worthy of comment as we were buying our tickets - we heard the lady behind the guichet say something about "cinquante cinq" (55). Not being sure what she was on about, Carol simply said "Cinquante cinq, oui?". Nothing more was said and we paid the €27 asked for. It was only later, looking at our tickets, that we realised we'd been asked if we were 55 or more, as that is the break point for old people's prices! So I was travelling fraudulently! Carol, of course, obeyed the letter of the law! (Like the subtle phrasing?!)
Only a few minutes late, off we set. There were stops in the strangest places - next to a lamp post, behind a hedge, etc - or so it seemed as we wended our way out of Nice through cuttings and tunnels. A unique feature, at least to me, was the idea of "arret facultatif"- essentially a request stop - if you want to get on the train, you put your hand out!!
Once we'd cleared Nice and its suburbs, we were into pretty wild country - high peaks, villages perchees, all the time travelling alongside the river Var, occasionally stopping at some bush or other to let people on and off. The train was pretty cramped - we were towing a carriage but nobody seemed to be using it! SouthEastern trains it wasn't!
Eventually, we reached Entrevaux where the station is, of course, down the hill from the town. So clutching crutches (?) we set off up the incline to the bridge across the river that takes you into the old town through the Porte Royale. This was a town that had been fortified by Vauban, a general of King Louis XIV who was one of the first to get frequent traveller status - he fortified just about every town of any consequence in France. Once into the town, it was all narrow winding streets that we followed, initially, to the cathedral which also formed part of the fortifications. Very French Catholic of its time with an amazing amount of decoration for such a relatively plain town. We carried on round the town finding that one of the common themes was that everything was ferme! We also came across the old town baking oven where a tableau had been put together which, upon pressing a button, scared Carol witless!
Having exhausted the charms of the old town, we went looking for a bite of lunch. There was a bar open that had no food! Another place was a restaurant where we couldn't be sure we'd have had our food by the time the train was due to leave (plus it was more than we wanted to eat, or pay!). Finally, we tried a little empty bar where Monsieur was happy to make us a sandwich. Ham for Carol, saucisson for me - it turned out he'd used the last of his bread to make them so noone else could get any! Washed down with a small beer and costing a total of €11.40 for two, it really hit the spot.
Then back to the station to wait for the return journey. Whilst waiting, we fell into conversation with a couple from Keighley who, it turned out, were here for the first time and were not sure they'd made the best selection of accomodation. We told them our story and they took a note of the Primary Rentals details - wonder if we should bid for commission? They'd also rented a car which, where they were staying was almost essential but it meant they struggled to get into Nice because of the traffic. We shared our experiences with public transport etc and they said they'd probably follow our lead next time.
We ended up sitting with them on our return journey - they were members of a church in Keighley which was struggling - in the middle of an Islamic community with an ageing congregation - how lucky we are at St Stephen's! They agreed.
We continued chatting till they reached their stop at Lingostiere, close to the Centre Commercial.
Once we reached Nice, it was a tram to vieille ville and a couple of beers - who says I'm a creature of habit? Then home for ravioli in home made tomato sauce (had to have 2 goes at this as the first lot of shallots got crispy whilst, a) I was on Skype to my Dad and b) Carol was glued to the TV again). Silent supper!
Then mooched about for a little while then off to sleep again.
Bon nuit!
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