Top 5 Worst Travel Home Days -- Today's version

 I was done blogging, but K insisted the tale was worthy of a post, and you'd all like to hear it, and then I have time on my hands as she continues her busy social calendar. :)

There will be no pictures and thus no thumbnail.  Unless I pick something random to make it pretty. 

Let's start with the known ugly: Ian's flight out of Nice to Paris Charles DeGaulle airport was at 6 AM.  We knew this and prepared (sort of) accordingly.  We (K went with us) were in the car at 4 and quickly made the 25 minute trip, sans traffic or light, easily.  She cried her good-byes and away he went. 

Likewise, quick, easy return trip.  Despite having done it half a dozen times, I made one wrong turn that I quickly turned around and we were back.  We both went back to bed, wondering if we could go back to sleep.  We did.

We were up and out of the resort at 830, as K wanted, for our 11 o'clock flight.  "You know, there's the rental car to turn in and all..." So, by 920 we were walking into the departure area -- plenty of time.

I look up at the big departure board and K says I said out loud, "where's our flight?!?!"  There was no Air France flight to Paris at 11, to the right airport or not.

I dug out my phone and looked closely at my boarding pass.

We were on the 950 flight!!!!  (getting in at 11)

Merde!

We didn't bother trying to sprint through all we had to sprint through to get to the gate on time (we weren't getting there).  Sigh.

We got in the short line to the Air France counter, got the staff person and she looked us up and said what EH says was a French version of "wow."  😂 

She called someone and offered us seats on their 1:50 flight (our flight from Paris was at 640), which we took.  She also took my credit card for the charge to switch to that plane: not horrible, but X 3 and it adds up. 😢

After sitting and regrouping, doing the math on the connection and our leaving Paris, we were all okay and decided to get breakfast.

If I haven't made this clear, the French aren't big on breakfast.  Petit dejeuner is their thing -- orange juice, coffee, and a bread.  Eggs? No.  For the people who invented both quiche and omelettes, this seems a bit odd, but there it is. 

After some struggle, we found the only open restaurant, and we hoped for real food.  The concierge turned us away until 11.  No eggs he said and you wouldn't find a place in the airport with them. 😢 We ended up eating at a Bread Co., where we ordered the quiche, I asked if he'd warm it up and he thought that was a novel idea, took it in the back for a moment and brought it out -- still cold!  LoL. 

We killed the extra 3 plus hours and got on the Air France flight at 1:50 easy-peasy.  Sigh. 

We got into Paris Orly airport (in case you wonder, it is or-LEE) and our luggage came quickly. 

We even found the train to the other terminal easily enough. 

Then we got to the French Bee check-in area.  Chaos!  There were people everywhere, long lines, and no signs.  A customer rep walked around saying important things in French, none of which I could pick up.  After standing in the long line awhile I noticed an arch that said "US Flights" and no one going through it.  It seemed we were in the line to St. Denis (EH says it's in the Indian Ocean), so we switched, and got passed close to the automated check-in counter.

If you think this is all a lot, you've not heard nothing yet. 

A sign indicated you should be to the airport 2 hours and 30 minutes before you flight; we were spot on.  

We got into the passport line.  The one for non-EU passports was long.  (This would be a reason I would have voted against Brexit if I was a Brit)  While we stood there, in sight of the down escalator that brought us there, a woman's clothing caught in the escalator's teeth and she was being yanked into the end.  The passport staff person rushed over and hit the stop bottom as she was on the bottom step.  I think there was an audible sigh of relief from the crowd.

But the staff person seemed upset by the whole thing and her supervisor came and sent her off (this is a recurring theme) and we no longer had someone directing us.  

I will cut to the chase, skipping several odd and amusing stories, to us getting through passport control in an hour.  They were fingerprinting and taking photos of everyone, and, of course, there were one or two who weren't ready.

Now our cushion was gone and the signs said that our gate, of course the farthest away, was half hour walk.  

We walked.  AS ws closed in, EH and I insisted on stopping at a convenience store and getting drinks and snacks.  There was no time for real food.  K was kind of panicking "don't stop!" but we did and fairly quickly were back at it.

They were already loading our group, 4, when we got to the gate and walked right up to the line and found that they were loading front and back and we were in what they thought was front (not really) and no one was in that line. 

To our seats, the usually jockeying with luggage, etc, but there was room when we got on in the bins and we sat down, ready to go. 

We were a few minutes late leaving, but it seemed ok. 

K was disturbed by the trip, and the whole French Bee (the airline) experience.  She thinks the seats are narrower and with less leg room than "normal."  We discussed various international flights experience.  I agree she was probably right, but only marginally.  That wouldn't be a big deal if a) the guy in front of me didn't decide to do a full recline; b) the staff were as inattentive as possible.  EH and K ended up buying food -- their mozzarella sandwich, which they deemed "not terrible" and not overpriced.  But we got little other service.  Two other tiny cups of water (smaller than juice glasses).  If you could catch one of them, you could get more, but good luck with that.  No one seemed to be using their movies or TV -- I guess everything was dated, or people knew better, or maye the 5 euro (I haven't figured out how to make the sign yet) for earphones was too much.  

Both flights on Sunday they insisted -- the staffer made a point of telling EH, who missed the announcement with her headphones on, to shut down -- that all electronics go off for the final minutes of descent. I put my ipad in the seatback pocket (I guess).

We landed in Newark, jumped up, got all the stuff and got off the plane.  

Doing okay. 

Then we hit passport control again.

The line was huge.  It was not good to be an American, or with a green card, or whatever.  After half hour walk through the cattle shutes, we got to the end and a staffer directed people.  She put us in line 18, behind a couple and a family of 4.

The couple took forever.  I don't know and will never know what happened, but, in the end, the agent shut down line 18, turning the green light to orange, and walked them off, (them) never to be seen again. 

As soon as he did so, K turned to the staffer who directed us and asked if we couldn't be put elsewhere.  "Sure, if you go to the back of the line."

K ended up asking again.  Then wanted me to say something.  I refused.  

The family ahead of us asked us and we said we didn't know. 

In line 19, the agent had some kind of experience, got out of his booth, walked back to those in his line and said "you have your passports?"  Everyone sheepishly held them up.

He turned to us in line 18 and asked us the same question.  We nodded and showed him.  He went back into his booth.

After about 15 minutes, our guy came back, but before going into his booth, came around to us and asked "you do have your passports?" 

He took photos of three of the four ahead of us and only one set of prints.  I was counting. 

When EH handed him our three passports, he gave them a cursory look, and told us to have a nice stay.  

Another hour in a passport control line. 😡

If you think I'm done, no, no, no.

Next, you know there was a snow storm Friday into Saturday on the East Coast, so not only did we come out to the bitter cold (we hadn't seen anything lower than 40 all week) AND snow and ice on the car.

Great.  Cleaned off.

Drive to the exit toll booths, go to one of two marked prepaid (I've gotten into the habit -- saves money) only to have the lines not move. 

Nobody moved.

By this time K is apoplectic with waiting (at this point we've been on the road for 21 hours) and not dealing well with it.

The car in front of me tries to back up (to go where, I have no idea) and a car in the next line backs up, gets out, and comes and jams into OUR line!!!

Eventually an attendant in the lime green vest comes and talks to the second car in the line next to us, and then we see the arm go up and one car finally get out. 

He ended up directing traffic, keeping us from going through too fast, I guess.  I guess in the cold their license plate read system was slow enough to be locking up. 

It might have taken 20 minutes to get through.  Our last nerve.  

The trip home was fine, with a quick convenience store stop for more drinks and some snacks. 

And then we were home. 

Remember the part about putting away electronics?  I went to pull out my iPad yesterday morning and...

Well, I left it on the plane.  It's the only answer.   "Find My..." app doesn't show it.  

French Bee said to email them at lost and found in Newark and I did, but I haven't heard back.  Morte de IPad. 😢

Apple

I was told it was an expensive trip home 😡😁

So, there you have it.  Enjoy our pain.  See you next time -- next month. 

The Last Day );

 For those of you who are living a vacation vicariously through us, and there some of you who worry me you are too invested, we have come to the all-but-the-travelling-back end. 😭😭😭

Today began, again, THE FORAGE FOR FOOD!!!!  It’s been a real issue here…

First, we found a pharmacy, for me; in and out and away we went, back to the old village, where someone (I really don’t remember who) thought a restaurant served breakfast. 

Holy effing moly!  Of course there was a Christmas market set up there and there were police and cars and…a lot.  After parking (another minor challenge), we found an elevator up two stories to street level. And made our way through all these vendors, and there was straw on the ground (atmospherics, I hope) and…the restaurant was not serving breakfast during the fair. 😡

We ended up getting food from the vendors: KG and I had sandwiches made with cheese melted off the wheel onto the sammy. Highlight. 

Then we took off to Menton, which is on the Italian border. 

More mountain views were had. 

After struggling to find parking again (it was crazy busy, too), we walked the promenade and got to the Jean Cocteau Museum (don’t ask me) but it wasn’t open till 2.  

We had a drink and the waiter talked them into trying the mille foil (sp) dessert, it had chestnut mousse in the middle (they love their chestnut here).

Knocked out the museum in no time, walked a ways, and, while I wasn’t there, the 3 of them decided “we” were going to the Basilica, which was visible up a very step hill.  I was told “it was only 7 minutes.”

Later, EH added “Google maps said ‘fairly flat.’” Lies!!

More than 7 minutes later we wheezed into the courtyard of the basilica.  Here’s the money shot from up there, toward Italy. 

Back down was easier and we headed back to Mougins. 

As is tradition, we had EH’s birthday dinner tonight (it’s as close as we can get).   We had to go back to the old village to do so, and K insisted we get a taxi.  So I asked the front desk to get us one.  He was there waiting at the right time and he took us the mile up the hillside to the front drive of the village.  We go to get out and he says “card?” and I say cash and he says something and both KG and I need a repeat.  According to KG when I heard it my response was a squeak of “Thirty!”  Yes, 30 euros for a mile.  Ouch. 

It took me awhile to recover from that.  It might have been the fifth course before I was really into it. 

The restaurant, which has had a Michelin star for awhile, is called La Place de Mougins.  I don’t know what his thing is, but tonight there were 3 set menus: beef, lamb, or “worldly pigeon.”  We wondered if that wasn’t a mistranslation, but for what?  In the end, KG had the pigeon, I had the beef, and the other two had the lamb.  Here’s their pictures.

and the desserts.  This is K and EH’s — a variation of what they had earlier, a mille foil but this time that filling is bergamon (sp)

KG. and I got a coconut and a chocolate cake thing.  The chocolate one was the bomb. 

It was like 6 courses and three amuse bouches and several variations among us, so there are too many pictures.  

We agreed it was quite good, though KG rather regretted the pigeon.  He thought it lacked taste.  

As we left, we were invited down to meet the chef, which we did.  I was disappointed he didn’t offer some coupon or something, but c’est la vie.

We ubered back.  It was half the price!!!  😁

KG has a 6 AM flight out of Nice tomorrow, so we are hitting it early tonight.  It has been another fun and memorable trip.  

Bon voyage!

NB: next trip is next month to SoCal…

I don’t know what day it is, but it was a good one

 I should begin by saying that we’ve gone two days with no one falling.  Fingers crossed. 

We are also all more healthy. Though I’m not “well,” it’s not the same thing anymore, but who knows? 

I guess I will start with breakfast, which has been a challenge (too, if you’ve been reading), but today KG found a place in downtown Nice.  It was good.  We found it easily enough, despite the traffic, and even got in a parking place (have I told about this? It’s been a thing with the bigger car and the car’s sensors going off on both sides at once). 

I will stick with a drink pic and a plate pic…

And then off, down the coast road, to a place built by a Rothschild (if you hadn’t heard, they had some coin).  To get ideas for if we wanted to move here. 

In ‘15, Michael and I went here and remember how amazing it was.  Everyone was amazed.  About 1905, someone found this piece of land for Mrs. Rothschild and she build this villa and gardens there.  I will settle for a couple pics.

EH wasn’t happy with her design choices — a roccoco design with some odd touches — but every rich person gets to be eccentric, right?  As you can see, you can see a lot of sea from three quarters of the rooms and the others face the garden (which has a huge fountain that was running). 

The gardens have 9 different areas, including roses, exotics, and French.  Bamboo. Cacti.  There were lots of bird of paradises.  

By the time we were done (after a late start), it was 2 o’clock.  Time to head further east (we went west yesterday) towards Italy.

Michael probably remembers the drive, windy, up and down, with the sea coming into view from higher or lower — I’ll give you one scenic stop’s shot.

Then into Monaco.  FYI you don’t even know you are entiring the place, which Wikipedia says is half the size of Central Park.  After doing through tunnels and traffic, we ended up parking in the famed Casino’s parking garage. 

It was a long walk to the bottom of this hill

Where we ended up in yet another, yes!  Christmas market!!!!  A couple photos will have to stand in. 

And then back to the casino.  Here’s your shot of where we were going before finding an elevator to take us up near the building. 

IF you missed why we were there, it was for the light show, which was supposed to be a big deal.  K got lengthy video, but it really wasn’t that great…

And then we decided to go into the Casino. 

You have to pay to get into the Casino to lose your money. :). But they give you a voucher for down payment on a drink :)

There are no pictures inside the actually casino.  I got one of their lobby Christmas tree, which was impressive.  

Inside, Ian and I got some chips and played roulette.  I walked away 20 ahead minus tip.  Felt okay.

K wondered why we didn’t play blackjack instead “because it takes some skill.”  KG told her that it wasn’t that way, really, that roulette it was 50-50 ish.  Then we watched a guy in front of us as we had drinks lose 5 straight hands in blackjack (though he made some shaky decisions).  But it goes to show how quickly it can go.

OTOH, the guy standing next to us at the roulette table put several 5E chips on the number and hit on the first spin!!!  36 to 1.  It was quite a stack of 5s back at him.  He then took part of that stack and covered a bunch of numbers and hit again!!!

We had drinks, KG and I talked about Casino Royale and they were talking about the decorating (old school, heavy)…and we took off for “home.”

Quick hit: there were a lot of expensive cars rolling around.  This is K’s favorite (not the Lambo, or the Ferraris 😀 )

We ended up back in Mougins eating at the same place for the fourth time (we are “those” people”) and KG had the sea bass, which was worth the photo.  I will add EH’s steak tartare.  

And now I am caught up.  It is literally “tomorrow” already…

Adieu. 

Aix marks the spot

[Ed’s note: there has been input about the lack of blog yesterday.  It was started at 11 PM but interrupted and today…we were away before it got worked on.  So, here it is, followed by another “shortly”}

Today we spent the day in Aix-en-Provence (because there must be another “X” in France, right?), which was a 90+ ride from our resort. 

Since yesterday might have been the world’s worst food day (😢) I will reverse our course and start with dinner, which was in Old Town Mougins (EH pronounces it like you mow and are gone), which we were told is straight uphill from us about a mile.  It was.

It’s a lovely village on the top of the hill, all on a couple circles around the edge. It was cute — as have other villages been — with some pretty lights.  This pic will have to stand.

The first place we stopped didn’t serve dinner (!!!) although they had all kinds of “plats” on the menu “until 1600”.  But not anything now (1900).  Makes sense, right?

We got the cheese board, which turned out to be the best cheese board we have ever seen. !!!!

Then we walked around the village to a place that actually served dinner.  

Here’s the food porn:

K had the duck…

KG had the quail (I’m tortured by people eating the poor little things!)

I had the canneloni.   EH had traditional French beef stew.  

Made up for the night before. 
 

The day started with a trip to Aix, pronounced we-don’t-know, with point 1 being the cathedral.  Here’s a quick shot:

There’s a baptismal font from the 5th c. that they built the church around.  

There was a beggar sitting at the door.  KG said that was pretty good marketing — in front of the church, hitting people up for charity. 

Then we walked down the their museum.  But the Cezanne floor was closed (there seems to be an international exhibition somewhere with a lot of his paintings), so it wasn’t the deal it could have been.

But we tried to lose K!

It’s a classic story:  we all went into the first gallery and the kids and I went around the two rooms and waited in the hall.  K didn’t come.  And doesn’t come.  (she’s typically the one who reads everything and is last).  And doesn’t come.  We discussed that there were only 4 paintings in the room where we left her; “how long can you look at those 4?” We waited.  I finally went to see what she was doing and she wasn’t there!!!!

Turned out there was a back exit into another room and then down some back steps into the lower gallery.

I went through the WHOLE building and nothing…(I thought the other two were way too relaxed about this)!!! 

I came back and found EH standing at the bottom of the stairs and said “I haven’t seen her” and KG comes around the corner and says “I could hear you two clear down that gallery.”  😂  

K appears at the top of the stairs and says “You guys left me!” I laughed and said “you left us”…seems she went down one floor, then thought she’d lost us and went back up to where we were.  I had seen the whole place; they had to go fill in the missing spots. 

Then off on adventure 109.  K’s bucket list for the trip was to go to a real French (as opposed to a fake French) winery.  KG found a place on the way home.

OMG.  I missed the turn into the place (not my first missed turn of the week).  Came back, wound around on a300 degree right hand turn and up the hillside on a “gravel” road with a steep fall off to the right.  Through ruts and everything.  At the top there was a house and a sign that said parking.  Two dogs greeted us friendily but there was no sign of anyone.  No other signs.  We wondered around the house, looking for a likely door, and, after we had done things we might have been arrested for, a guy about my age came out and shook my hand and said some stuff in French.  Then a younger guy showed up and spoke English.  He took us down some stone steps, past some geese that hooted outrageously, and down into a small building with a small door to a bar, where Matthieu (sp?) gave us a little talk and some good wine. 

But the best part is the goats.  

The place was called Trois Skippies, or something like that.  We bought a bottle.  Then a chunk of “fresh cheese” (from a goat, if you didn’t get that) - none of which can come home. 

And that was the day (with dinner). 

Oh, yeah, we came back and finally dug out a deck of cards and played euchre.  KG and EH vs their parents.  Parents won both games, 10-9, despite renegging twice 😂. The cards KG had were from Lisbon last year but it turned out the score cards (6’s and 4’s) had no spots on them.  So K tore up four pieces of paper and attempted to recreate the score cards — though we couldn’t tell what they were! KG said she “did a Picasso on the symbols.” 😂. I was told I couldn’t take a picture of them and share. 😂

That was today…

Day 5: this one’s a humdinger! Hahahaha

 Ok.  

Here goes my opener: I have good news and bad news.  

The good news is I got a new outfit in Cannes. :)

The bad news is that I had to do this to get it (you’ll want the sound up, at least on the third, multiple watching):

I have no words.  Or not enough.  It is all very meta, there on video, but it was maybe even funnier in person — I could hear them laughing at me!!! 😂😂😂 

We will push on, because I clearly could get caught in this rabbit hole for a long time, but KG said it was NOT as good as the dunking in the river in Nova Scotia in June as I didn’t flail as much today and I went all in there. I will say this: the Meditteranean in December is warmer than Prince Edward Bay in June. 😁

Other than that, it was a good day.

Pretty much. 

There was an interesting discussion at breakfast about deciding what to do — KG, aka IAFTR, seemed unhappy with the change of plan today — we didn’t go to Monaco.  I made an exec decision based on the light display in Monaco Friday. So I might deserve what I got. 

Also, we violated, again, the “rule” from the Business Insider writer that said “plan meals ahead, because you waste a lot of time if you don’t.”  Time wasting today included going for dinner on tbe beach in Cannes only to told the kitchen was closed. 😃  (I will not mention that I took a barrel roll walking out to the table [there was small step I didn’t see], which was AFTER the sea dip 😡😢 there are no pictures of video)

Then we tried to go back to Mougins (10 miles but half an hour plus), only to find out THEIR kitchen wasn’t serving yet — a real betwixt and between. 😡

But back to what we did. 

We started by running into Antibes (half an hour southeast).

On the way we were amazed to see…snow capped mountains.  To the east.  And we were within sight of the sea!!!  Wow.  Here’s a pic:

parking in a marina with lots of yachts (yes, really) and walking a ways uphill to the Musee Picass.  Pablo lived here for a year in 1946 and they made the place into a museum and he donated, then his significant other gave a bunch of stuff to them, so they have quite a collection.  Here’s my favorite (or it was till later today 😢), called Joie de Vivre

Let me say this about Pablo’s Antibes period: he sure bought into the environment.  Not only was he wearing French navy striped shirts, but his art is full of urchins, fish, seafood, and a lot of classical stuff inspired the signs said by the fact Antibes was a Roman fortress.  [the pretensiousness of the write-ups is beyond mockable]

(I think this one was the one called Tres Oursins [urchins[)

After walking around the narrow, cobbly streets of Antibe (not without incident, but I’m not to tell 🤷),

we headed to Cannes.  

BTW, driving around here is hard work.  Not quite Cornwall in May hard work, but still…tight streets, traffic (we asked a lot what would be like in high season) and lots of roundabouts with little spurs that confuse you on the directions.

We parked right below the film “palace” and found a charging station (the Lexus is an EV/HV that came full of gas but uncharged!  explain that, please?) and actually charged the car (when we did the math on the euros per km, we decided to not bother and stick with gas).  

There was ANOTHER Christmas market, and purchases were made (a bottle of vanilla rhum [rum], which everyone but me tasted, but *I* bought it — you explain that!), several rather clever ones.  the discussion about the rum will be good for days: how do we get it home? Aren’t we drinking it? Can we drink that much vanilla rum before Sunday? Can we ship it with the other stuff (remember the overweight suitcases)?  LOL.  #firstworldproblems. 

At the end of the promenade, we came to this quay, and they were taking pictures 

and I got ambitious and…you have the video.  😂😂😂

And to dinner, a quick stop at the local grocery store, and back to recuperate. 

If you are wondering: yes, I got pretty wet.  I did buy a new t-shirt and pullover around the corner from where I fell in. :). The staff person knew little English, so the whole thing was hard to convey. :). But she let me change in their “dressing room” (a curtain in the middle of the room) and so my wet, sandy top (3 layers) were carried home.  I wore the pants, despite K’s attempt at getting me others.  My phone survived —- I didn’t get soaked.  

And, yes, K and EH still laugh when they watch the video. Still.  Twelve times later.  EH, who took the video, turned it off quickly, saying “I didn’t think it was a good look for us to be laughing uproariously at my father’s predicament.”  Uh huh. 

I’m not committing to anything tomorrow.  Given my record on falling in water is good this year, I can’t guarantee more (though I can’t really afford a new outfit per day; retiree on a fixed income)…but I hope there’ll be no such thing for awhile.  Fingers crossed.

Au revoir.  Adieu. 

And today’s money shot —

Getaway (from some stuff) Day — to the Riviera!

 Today’s blog begins, Gentle REader, with praise for Air France.  

after the rugged experience on French Bee flying over, Air France treated its customers well.  First, free checked bags! Hooray! Bigger seats! Hooray! Free snacks and drinks (on a 90 minute flight!!!) Hooray!  Win,  win, win, win. 

But to go back to the start of the day: it started with a series of jolting episodes that reminded us we weren’t back on the farm anymore.  Yes, better than the woman in the men’s room yesterday. 

First among these was KG and EH witnessing a woman dropping trow on the street corner and taking a pee into the wastebasket there.  It was a crowded street.  By the time K and. I got there there was only the runoff…and two eyerolling kids. 

Next was a guy begging on the Metro.  Maybe he was legit, but even K, the least skeptical of us all, said he was overplaying it.  KG said “well, he was misssing toes on his right foot…I could seem them bc they weren’t well bandaged.”  He wasn’t pulling in much coin, despite his best efforts. 

Then there was just the plain old “please, please monsieur” pan-handler.  

You just don’t get much of that back home in Bloomsburg.  

Breakfast was good (picture of EH’s salmon toast later) and, after a quick episode of “the olds can’t remember”, we pushed off to the Arc d’ Triumphe.  We even went up top, where we got these pictures.

Starting with the Tomb of the Unknown soldier in the Arc.  You can see that the flowers from 11-11 are still there. 

(you know what this is…)

EH’s salmon toast and Swiss latte from breakfast, the most porny of our choices. 

Down the Champs d’Elysee toward the Louvre (which you can see way down theere)

This is the “Notre Dame shot” as you can see it in the distance just under the crane’s basket and above the red and white railing. 

We “strolled” down the Champs d’Elysee (notice the “down” as it was an important part of the logistics, as you can see the slope in the pictures from the Arc) and there was an exchange about what “stroll” was meant to mean. :) 

We ended up in the Place de la Concord, with its famous obelisk (pictured) and then to the end of the Christmas market we hadn’t gotten to Saturday night.  

Drinks (“boissons”) and macarons (“Macarons”) were purchased and we headed to the luggage storage place and to Uber.  [note: there was a brief exchange with the storage guy about the Blackberry, but my low-ball offer was met with a sad tale of having to make money and no counter, so there was no deal.  I can get one on Ebay cheaper :))

The Uber ride, in their XL model so we had plenty of room, not the complained-about taxi we were sardine-canned into on Saturday, though without real choice, but it took about ten extra minutes, too. 

Then into the hospitable arms of Air France.  Voila.  

We are all still malade — it’s a walking cacophony of hacks and snorts, with drugs being handed out every 4 hours like clockwork in multiples of 4, but not sure they really work.  Hack, cough, snort, hack, cough. It was not a pretty thing in the environs of the airplane. ):

Got into Nice Airport, our check bags were out before we could finish bathroom runs, and then a long, windy walk to Enterprise, but no one in line and two helpful people put us quickly into a Lexus SUV. It’s bigger than our car back home and the roads to the resort are smaller.  And windier.  And the parking spaces made for a mini. ):

For this portion of the trip we went to two apartments, one with one bedroom, and KG took that — in recompense for having to sleep on the sofa bed last year.  He’s lucky: there’s so much noise with others (if not yourself), it’s not terribly peaceful.  The place looks good — not overly fancy, but spacious and accommodating, and the little town of Mougins (where we are, literally) is cute.  Antibes is down the hill on the Meditteranean below.

The current plan for tomorrow is a late-ish breakfast (we were told “ten is too late to get the day started” — an annual convo 😂) and then to Monaco and maybe some places near there, about an hour aware.  Further plans will be revealed.  

Oh, dinner tonight was to the nearest restaurant — here’s unlabeled food porn (Nic)

But now we’re in Nice, and, though tonight we didn’t really see it (it’s December, it’s after dark when we arrived), we hope it lives up to its name.  So nice they named it once. :). I might sell that slogan to them. :)

Au revoir.