Breathing the beauty of Nice

Lakmin Wickramasuriya

Why did we decide to come to Nice again when we could have gone to Au Paree (Paris)? Was my grumble at my travel partner Jens. Come on bro look at this awesome weather. The sun is shining and the beach is heavenly was his answer whilst lying on the beach chair. That was a typical Dutch for you caring only about the weather.

Nevertheless he had a point. Nice was certainly beautiful in the South of France in May though certainly crowded as it was right in the middle of the tourist season. You could see the Americans with their caps and flip flops, the occasional aspiring painter attempting to capture the famed pebbly Nice beach covered by white beach chairs.

We got in from Zurich via Geneva through the Euro rail. Hence it had been an exhausting but exhilarating ride through the Alps as we saw the lush country side whizzing past us on the train which was slightly elevated. After we settled in at the hostel I asked the proprietor for a map of the area. I thanked him and he replied.

‘Merci Beaucoup, Messieurs’. Oh how I love the French language.

It was dusk and basically everything was in French. Surprise surprise after all we were in France. We walked a long stretch of paved road from the hostel towards the beach which was about a half an hour away. We passed some tourists going into the fashion shops, the normal break dancers whiling away their craft to the beat of Micheal Jackson and of course the ice cream stalls.

We lingered near the dancers and grabbed a couple of cones before arriving at the beach. Afterward we decided to eat some Mongolian as the ocean breeze had made us really hungry. It occurred to us that tomorrow’s plan had to be mapped out.

Nice had a total of thirty two villages that were situated right at the top of the hills providing a picturesque setting. I successfully argued to see Eze, the village famed for the largest perfume factory in France. We got in the bus the next day after buying the one day pass and arrived in Eze and managed to sneak into a US high school tour of the largest perfume factory in the south of France.

It was an intriguing tour to say the least. There were so many different varieties of perfumes espoused by the tour guide that my head was in awhirl. He was stating that there was a full time person who was trained to identify and develop new fragrances. He was called a sniffer. The training period reportedly may take up to six years and he was allowed to work only three hours a day in order to save his nose. I had to confess this last part appealed to me. The entire village was surrounded by perfume shops catering to their known reputation.

As it was only an hour from Monaco, one of the smallest countries in the world we decided we should cover it as well. It was a long and winding road around the cliffs and the backdrop was scary as we saw the ocean way below us as the waves cascaded onto the rocks. We finally arrived in Monaco and entered the casino which was flanked in front by the most expensive cars in the world and a Toyota. I was curious to know who owned the Toyota. I lost fifty Euros at the slots machine.

I still recall the sniggering of my friends when I told them, though I have to admit I am not much of a gambler. Monaco is quite simply a place to go to retire if you are a millionaire. The beach dock was fully covered by expensive sailboats almost reaching to the sky from a distance. Grace Kelly, the former Princess of Monaco was remembered everywhere with plaques adorning her graceful face along with her daughter Princess Caroline. Alfred Hitchcock would have approved. We went up the small hill to see the opulent Monaco castle, no mean feat of architecture as we walked through the rooms adorned with the little country’s historical mementoes, though mainly known as a casino haven.

The next day we decided to wind up the trip by visiting Cannes which was in the opposite direction from Monaco. Cannes as compared to Nice had golden sandy beaches which I approved of. We lazed under the sun for a while taking in the warm heat before visiting the Cannes theatre.

It was immense for a movies buff such as me to see the famed hand prints of some of the greats of the silver screen from any genre, ranging from Roman Polanski to George Clooney.

This feeling would be only improved upon when I visited the Chinese Kodak theatre later. Jens sadly was the polar opposite and found this leg of the journey tiresome. Fortunately for me walking amongst the stars was satisfaction enough. The next day we left for Vienna.