Antibes, Cannes, beyond, and back

So, perspicacious Reader, here we are at the end of our long weekend in France.  There is plenty of scenery porn (SP) in this, and little FP.   We have reservations tomorrow at what is known as the "Barb Memorial Restaurant," so FP lovers may be somewhat satisfied then.

The day began with this view and breakfast in the hotel's restaurant.  Yes, it was nice in the south of France today.

Upon checking out, we asked the woman at the counter if the Picasso museum was open and we were told that such things aren't typically open on Mondays (it wasn't); neither was the 17th c. fort there.  To which the woman said, "They are either closed, or on strike.  That's France."  M cracked up like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.  I said "Vive la France" and she repeated it.

Oh, for those long-time Readers, the standard "I am in the water" photo.  It was warmer there than in Oregon, soCal, or most anywhere else I've done this the last year.

Then we weaved our way to Cannes (which is west, toward Spain, from Nice and Antibes [where we stayed last night], ignoring "Ken," who didn't want to take the coast road, and getting this view as one of our benefits.

Then to Cannes, which is touristy.  Here's the link so you can see all the photos, including several of the big hotels there on the promenade and the film festival hall ("palais").  

From there, up to the Musee Castre, which is an old fort and overlooks the city.  One pic shows the walkway up (just so you know what HE's putting me through) and here's the view from there --

Is that enough of the gorgeous views?

Well, okay, here's the one from outside Theoule-sur-Mer (still west of Cannes, if you are following), where we had lunch.  This is where we stopped going west (as you can see, the top of a grade) and stopped in Theoule for lunch.  M said something about buying a place in the area and this one looked "okay." :)

And here's my lunch, fish soup.  A bowl.  okay, it's  tureen.  With cheese and croutons (yes, those are the croutons).  Right on the water (you know, 'mer' means something like sea in French...I hear).

And then to Nice airport, searching desperately for a gas station (Ken was not helpful and we saw two on opposite sides of the road we couldn't quite get to), then to through security and !!!! our flight was late.  M pointed out the irony of us being over an hour early for a delayed flight and yesterday we were ten minutes late for one that went on time.  BTW, both were full, and so was the next plane out of Nice and a plane that left right before ours to Stanisted (another London airport).  Our flight was overbooked and they offered 200Es (that's about $220) if you volunteered to change flights, but that meant a night in Nice (could be worse) but an early morning (might kill M) and missing class tomorrow.

And, for those of you who want to know, M followed a night with like 5 hours sleep with a night of 10 1/2 hours sleep.  And I woke him, unpurposefully, by turning on the shower lights (there was no door...yes, the hotel room was nice [OMG! again?] but had quirks, like the no door to tub and shower (commode and bidet were in a different room with a door) AND the rain forest shower.  M said he was glad now he didn't put one in the new house they are building.

And now for the morbid joke du jour: by the time we got through Cannes we decided to come back for longer with our spouses.  He said "we could do this AFTER the rest of California trip" (we want to complete last summer's journey from Seattle to San Fran by going from San Fran to Tijuana).  I responded "given our age and condition, should we make long-term plans?"  He laughed and laughed and said that was funny.   I told him because it was so true.

The other recurring joke, which I have to work in somewhere, was about Morocco.  As we keep humming, and M keeps singing the open bars, or some bars, or in some bars, the Bing and Bob "Road to Morrocco" song, I kept saying that in the south of France "we aren't that far away."  I kept saying that piece of land out there was Morocco.  I was told, repeatedly, that it was one big sea and I wasn't seeing it.  It was today's Starbucks joke (there's one in Antibe, by the way).  But he kept singing "we're on the way to Morocco..."  Uh huh.  Poor Bob and Bing.

Tomorrow in London.  A play at the Globe and dinner reservations.  The weather here sucks: we left with it in the low 50s and raining and returned from Nice (where it was 80 and sunny) to 55 and windy and some spitting participation.  I tell students constantly that they don't come here for the weather.  How true.

Until then. #