I love southern France! These two days have already prompted Kevin and I to start planning for a return trip to this area. We visited Aix en Provence, Marseille, Nice, and Monaco. Two days wasn’t enough; I’m still high on French bread and wanting some more!
Carb load.
Why is the bread in Europe so much better than it is in the States? I swear, a simple baguette with some butter and ham tastes like it should belong in a Michelin star restaurant. Kevin and I don’t usually eat bread when we’re home, but we’re scarfing it down at a record pace here. It’s a good thing that we’re walking an average of 5-10 miles a day, otherwise we’d be bursting the seams of our pants. I’m sure that if Heaven were a real place, the smell of baking bread would fragrance the air, and the yeasty, crusty, deliciousness would be a staple of every meal, without the worry of putting more junk in your trunk. I think I’m definitely going to have to deal with a bread withdrawal when I get home, but I’ll try not to think too much about that right now, I still have a few weeks to indulge on these delectable goodies.
Pike Place Market….pfft.
We were lucky enough to visit Aix en Provence on a market day. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, the streets and plazas of this gorgeous little city are filled with local vendors selling vegetables, flowers, fruit, spices, meat, cheese, bread, and other goods. In Seattle, we also have similar markets, but there was just something about the French market that made Seattle’s pale in comparison. And I actually mean that quite literally; the colors of the vegetables and other items seemed so much more saturated and vibrant, like they were more full of “life”, if that makes any sense. The spices looked like they would be more flavorful, even before you got close enough to take in their aroma. It was just a surreal experience that’s hard to describe. Even Kevin, who rarely comments about things like this, mentioned how amazingly orange this one pumpkin-looking gourd was, and how one vendor was selling the most perfectly formed, beautifully gigantic loaves of bread you’ve ever seen. I took many pictures of vendors’ tables, but after reviewing them, they just don’t convey the energy that you see in person.
Monaco: You can visit, but you’re too poor to stay.
Monaco is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. This city-state is just dripping in money…big money. Before even stepping foot in Monte Carlo, I stood on the balcony of my suite, looking at the marina where we were docked, noticing the dozens of mega yachts moored in place. Kevin did a simple google search and price checked a few of these boats, and most of them had a cost of $10 million and up, the biggest one coming in at a whopping $250 million. Beyond the yachts, the city sparkles with pristine buildings, gorgeous mansions, and winding streets full of ultra-expensive luxury cars.
Kevin, Gail, and I spent the afternoon walking around Monte Carlo. We went into some shops, but mostly looked at items in the display windows, knowing that we couldn’t even dream of buying anything inside. You’ll see women walking down the street, casually wearing diamonds the size of nickels on their manicured fingers, decked out in the finest of haut couture. I was wearing shorts, a J. Crew polo, and all of my camera gear, and I seriously felt like a hobo. Luckily, there were several other dumpy-looking tourists to offset my less-than-glamerous look. We did feel, however, that we looked fine enough to enter the Monte Carlo Casino…just the lobby, that is. I bought a hat and Kevin bought the coolest lighter that looks like a poker chip.
As we were on the bus back to the ship, we traveled through one of the tunnels that’s part of the Monaco Grand Prix. I was absolutely mesmerized by the road itself; it sparkled in the light of the setting sun, like diamonds had been scattered in the asphalt. How appropriate for this city, I though to myself. I asked the tour guide why the road was like this. She said that since it gets humid, the roads in the tunnels get slippery, so they add a substance that increases the traction, but wears down tires considerably faster. I guess that tradeoff is better than crashing in one of the tunnels. Regardless, the effect is wonderful, and I wanted to ask the bus driver to turn around so I could see it again.
Oh, yes I Cannes.
Nice is fabulous! I can understand why it’s such a popular destination for the Hollywood elite. Of course, with all of this marvelousness comes a hefty price tag. As we were riding on the tour bus, our guide was pointing out different neighborhoods and properties. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll be able to buy into any of them anytime soon; there were several areas she showed us where $40 million was the lowest cost of entry. We managed to find come condos in the downtown area that were about $1 million for 1000 sq. ft. I’ll ask Kevin for the checkbook.