To be quite honest, we didn’t see much of Nice. Which I lament, because I have the feeling it was a city I could easily fall in love with. In a lot of ways, it stands in contrast to Marseille. From what I saw, (disclaimer reiterated, I didn’t see much), it seems that Nice has the ritz and glamour, and posh pretentiousness typical of southern France. Posh pretentiousness I might not be so big a fan of, but after roaming the city a bit, I think I’m to the point where I sort of can’t deny my love of the dramatic and glamorous. Which sounds pathetically superficial, but hey, at least I’m honest with myself. I think a better way to put it might be that I just have a very strong appreciation for quality; for things that are done well, things that are well taken care of, things that strive to be the best they can be. Couple that with my love of a great atmosphere and comfort in a tropical climate, and I can almost explain away my interest in Nice.
Regardless, upon arrival we got in our luxury grade Lexus taxi, driven by a driver with matching Louis Vuitton belt and shoes (although he had a cheap watch and non-designer sunglasses, I couldn’t figure it out), who tied his price rates to the head rest with an Hermes ribbon and drank Pelligrino for bottled water. Just people watching at the train station, the crowd seemed well dressed, which only proved more to be the case as we watched out the windows of the taxi. The streets were lined with well taken care of cafes and restaurants, plazas were wide, open, and flower laden. Buildings with apartments on the upper floors has the typical clothes hanging from the balcony, but the buildings were ornately ornamented, brightly painted, and it seemed like every window had a basket of flowers in it. After the grey, graffiti of Marseille, it was like arriving at the and I was eating it up. We never did take a day to explore the city more up close, I guess I’ll just have to go back some day…
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