Our wonderful visit to Nice at an end, on May 7th the Train รก Grande Vitesse (TGV) took us, first, with only medium vitesse and several stops along the shore all the way to Marseilles, and then north, with much greater vitesse, all the way, direct, to the Gare Lyon in Paris. A short taxi ride and we were back in our old apartment on Rue Jean Bart, in the sixieme arrondisement. Home, sort of. For the next seven weeks.
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| En route to Marseilles |
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| Really Grande Vitesse...as high as 194mph |
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| 59 (count'em) different lollie flavors |
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| Not what you think it is |
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| Arboreal strangle-hold |
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| "Oh shit, where's my racquet?!" |
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| Between Toulon, where he earned his spurs, and putting down the royalist uprising in Paris, Vendemiaire, 1795, N lived here |
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| Brilliantly adorning the Durandy subway station, a block from our apartment |
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| The Mediterranean was pretty calm during most of our stay, but for this one day; no surfers, however |
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| If you're a wealthy wannabe painter, Charvin is definitely the place to go, whether in Nice, Cannes, or Paris; I noticed the place when we visited in 2013; in 2025, we lived two blocks away; the smocks are about 200€ |
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| Gloriously old-fashioned |
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| Pleine aire |
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| Shades of azure |
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| Back in old town, the beautiful 16th century Sgraffito above the Adam and Eve House |
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| Patron saint of baguettes |
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| Vetements Sexy pour Hommes...similar store in the Marais...mostly skimpy underwear and bathing suits |
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| Strangely, in the heart of Nice, not a block from our place, is this beautiful equestrian store; we walked by it almost daily and never saw a horse or rider; not even any horse manure |
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| Sort of what Charvin is to painting...this place is to riding |
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| I confess to being a wannabe wealthy painter, but never a wannabe equestrian; but if I were, I'd shop here |
Including some we ate, some we didn't...
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| Perhaps our best ice cream shoppe ever was Fenocchio's--three locations in old Nice |
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| Not just the quality of the product but also the dazzling array of flavors; best mango and coco ever |
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| One of three cases...traditional, weird, kiddie... |
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| The usual veggie fare |
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| The chicken chute at a boucher we patronized |
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| One day's lunch in old town...Vicki's lasagna; here we discovered that, at least in Nice, the French have become very waste-conscious and will happily provide a box for Fido...pouvons-nous avoir un doggie bag, s'il vous plait? |
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| My salade nicoise...no potatoes, no anchovies, settling that dispute, at least for a day |
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| One can eat pretty well here for very little |
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| One of the Tunisian bakeries |
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| One day's Mediterranean diet diner...the tomatoes count as fruit |
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| Croutons with rouille |
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| We actually snacked at this Tunisian bakery |
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| Definitely a Cote du Rhone with you dog |
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| East California? Mojave Desert? Death Valley? |
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| Last seen in Prague |
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| Kiddie fare ("whaou"="wow") |
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| Where we ate in La Turbie, previously posted |
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| Spring asparagus is big in France, so much so that it gets its own serving pieces |
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| Mark-downs at a supermarket...at first we thought "anti-gaspi" meant "last gasp," but no, it means "not to waste" |
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| Serving up fleurs des courgettes at a market |
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| The best Naples-style pizza in Nice, it is said, is at a place called Les Amoreux, The Lovers |
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| Interior decor; cracked me up |
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| The ladies get a heart-shaped pizza...top that, Pizza Hut!; warrants another visit, Vicki said |
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| I thought I'd go for my usual anchovy pizza, but failed to note that Les Amoreux's version was bereft of cheese--unthinkable in Naples, in my experience--just five anchovy fillets swimming in tomato sauce; the sauce was good, and the bake was perfect, but I really missed the cheese...interestingly, Les Amoreux did not note nor display its affiliation or approval by the Associazzione Verace Pizza Napolitana... hmmm... |
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| Over the top Indian resto in old town |
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| Outside seating |
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| Seriously over the top |
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| Totally international cuisine...well, North American |
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| Our last foray for food was into old Nice for some socca, a chickpea- based street food popular in Provence and the Ligurian coast; we never found any...too early one day, too late another...next time... |
