Sweating It: The Ride to Nice

If you've been following my posts, you'll know that the morning of July 15, 2010 found us on the journey from Locarno, Switzerland to Nice, France by way of Milan and Genoa, Italy. Our trek that day began at ~8:30 AM and lasted until close to 5pm. As I partially explained in previous posts, the day had its moments of excitement and drama. First there was the near miss of our connecting train in Milan, followed shortly after by my comical disagreement (in italiano) with a rude woman on the Milan train and the hot, crowded train cars.

We also had some uncertainty about our lodging in Nice. We'd been very excited about our plans to stay in a rental apartment in downtown Nice for our 3 night stay. However, on the afternoon of the 14th I was notified by the property manager that the air conditioner in our rental unit had broken and would probably not be repaired in time for our arrival. She was also quick to remind me that according to the rental agreement I'd signed I was not entitled to a refund, even if we chose not to stay there due to the broken AC. Given the heat wave southern Europe was experiencing that week, the news had my beloved husband a little hot under the collar.

Thus, we lay back and bore the mildly stifling and so very scenic ride to the French Riviera. We headed south from Milan, toward Genoa. That portion of the journey was forgettable, but once we reached Genoa and began to travel in a southwestern arc along the Mediterranean coast line, the view was breathtaking. We passed through miles and miles of sun baked shores with that sparkling azure sea tempting and teasing us as we perspired within the close quarters of our 2nd Class (no air conditioning) train compartment. I alternately dozed off to the soothing music from my iPod, gazed out the window, and made small talk in English and broken French with my traveling companions. In our compartment we had a newlywed couple from Romania, a young male backpacker from Brazil, a young female medical student from Denmark and eventually a 50-something Parisian woman. Over time, we shared travel plans, snacks and a few simple jokes. Everyone was friendly and in good humor despite the mild discomfort caused by the heat and humidity.

Around 3pm, our train finally pulled into the town of Ventimiglia which sits on the border between Italy and France. (Ventimiglia is the Italian spelling--the French call it Ventimille.) We got off and found our way (with some confusion because the train schedule had changed) to our connecting train which was bound for Monte Carlo. Once at Monte Carlo, we had to change a final time to a local train bound for Cannes. In a word, the train from Ventimiglia was funky. I was seated across the aisle from a northern European who seemed to not have worn deodorant or brushed his teeth. His scent was eventually and unfortunately overpowered by the unique fragrance of turpentine and ass worn by the man who sat down next to me about halfway through the ride. He had specks of paint on his hands and arms and several days worth of stains on his clothing. I may never forget these guys. By the time I got off the train my head was spinning. Needless to say, I was VERY happy to change trains at Monte Carlo. Apart from being extremely crowded, that ride was mercifully funk-free and brief.

We got off the train at the Riquier station instead of the main station (Ville). I'm not sure why our tickets had Riquier as our final destination, but next time I'll be more mindful of which station we pick as our end point. We walked down to a taxi stand and hailed a ride to the rental unit at 26 rue de la Buffa in the Carre d'Or (Golden Square) neighborhood of Nice. I'd agreed to at least visit the apartment and see if we thought it could still work for us despite broken air conditioning. The place was tiny, cute, and offered at a 20 (then 30) percent discount. Unfortunately, it was also hot as hell without being well-exposed to the sunshine. We promptly left, having secured a promise of a full refund from the property management company.

Great... We'd have our money (420 Euros) back in a day or two, but that did not solve our problem of having no lodging arrangement to replace the darling apartment. We put our heads together and came up with a plan: pull our luggage down the block and around the corner to the Splendid Hotel to cool off in their air conditioned lobby, use our netbook and the hotel's free wifi to search for a hotel. After a few minutes on TripAdvisor.com we found a great deal at the all suite Novotel Suitehotel located near the airport on Boulevard René Cassin. I pulled out our handy little Nokia cell phone with a French number (we'd ordered it online from Call In Europe and as advertised it had been an easy, low-cost cell phone solution for traveling in Europe) and called the hotel to reserve a room for our 3 night stay. We paid 134 Euros per night for a spacious, clean and modern suite. Our room had a comfy queen sized bed, a sitting area w/ a twin-sized day bed, a large desk, a small fridge, a microwave oven, and a wet bar with water heater and coffee/tea service. Our bathroom had a large bath tub and a separate shower. The place was not luxurious, but practical. We were relieved to find it and very comfortable the entire time.

By 5pm, we'd checked in, taken showers and climbed into the bed for a much needed nap. A few hours later, we jumped on a local train across the street at the St. Augustin rail station and headed back downtown to meet our friends Chuck and G who were staying in the heart of the tourist zone at the Four Points by Sheraton hotel. We got off the train at the Ville station and walked a few blocks to the tram station on avenue Jean-Médecin.

The city was alive with residents and tourists of all ages, everyone hungry for a good meal and a good time. We struggled initially to figure out the self-service ticket machines, but eventually we were on the tram and gliding down the road to the waterfront. Once we met our friends down there, we found a nice spot to sit and enjoy dessert. Among us, we had a croque madame (grilled ham and cheese sandwich dipped in egg batter and cooked until it's gooey and brown) several scoops of gelato, 2 dessert crêpes and at least one cocktail. Considering the long and hot journey that brought us to Nice, each of us had high hopes for a good stay. By the time we left on the 18th of July, I would venture to guess that all were glad we'd made the trip.