Evening in Nice

I've read that the best photos are taken at sunrise (as if) and sunset.  We tried to test that a few times on this trip, but nowhere did it work as well as that first evening in Nice.  We caught the bus from the airport to the train station near our hotel, about 2 blocks away.  We ended up in a funny little room in the attic.  It was pretty, as long as you didn't want to stand up very many places, and the views out of the skylights were fun.  I didn't open them too wide in case a seagull took up the invitation.  It was fine for the length of time we would be there. 

We dumped our bags and hit the street to get some food and explore.  I can't tell you what luxury it is to shed sweaters and socks, to feel the heat on your skin, to slide your feet into sandals and find a soft warm breeze instead of the cold and wet.  Eating outside was our priority and so we fell into about the first chairs around a table we came to.  Bill's French was up to the job of ordering and though I would guess we were on the edge between a pretty good and a slightly dodgy area, I saw nothing to alarm me and the food was very nice.  

Well, there was one thing and I didn't get a picture.  It was a thin, darkly tanned woman with frizzy bleached blonde hair, big dark sunglasses and high heeled sandals.  She walked very slowly and carefully up the street behind me and I only just saw her as she navigated the corner and disappeared.  She was wearing blue plaid shorts, so short and fitted they were more like a swim suit bottom.  Her black knit top was so off-the-shoulder I was worried and so was everyone else; she was 60 if she was a day.  Bless her, it was not a good look.  


After dinner we strolled on down the street and found Place Massena with the Fontaine du Soleil.  It was beautiful:  the vermillion buildings, 

 the turquoise lights overhead, 

the green hills just beyond the city 

the fountain, and even the seven white resin men on poles in the square. 

I read a plaque that explained that these figures would be lit with different colours which would change.  This was to illustrate the diplomatic relationships beween the 7 continents and their changing relationships.  Explains a lot about how the French view diplomacy, was what I thought, but it was pretty to look at anyhow.

 Beyond this square was the Promenade des Anglais, where people walk, roller blade or run.  

The beach had only a few men fishing and one was showing his mate a pitifully small catch.  We wandered back to our hotel before it got too dark, ready to set off on our travels in Italy the next morning.