Another “Bonjour”! But as travels do have this miraculous power to transform, this one had a more dreamy edge to it and at the same time it was more assertive as we were really accommodating to the ville and the feelings it was so subtle and gentle in producing. We did need more temps to relish the dreamy embrace of our niçoise sleep and we got this chance when we had decided to skip the early conference sessions that were in French anyway. So that added a slightly cheeky to our late morning. More mornings – more transformations…? The breakfast was the same again and the croissants and the coffee were equally bien.
We had a walk all the way to the hotel where the conference was taking place and we tried to time it properly to be there just in time for the report by the British professor we were honoured to meet the day before. The city was very tranquil and slow but now this apparent sleepiness seemed to have a less dreamy edge to it and we had our business to attend to again. We were enjoying this “busy sleepiness” after all as we were walking through Promenade du Paillon with its water-shooting cascades and a huge sign reminding us of the Euro 2016 coming up just two days later! Theatre National de Nice right was in front of us and I’m already in love with these typically neoclassical Italian red ochre buildings with green shutters on my right, Nice Cathedral (pronouncedly Italian) on my left, they were a mixture of dreamy and assertive for me and in a weird cosmic way they seemed like me as well! My fashion choice was azure for the day though and it would be dead easy to assume where this inspiration came from. That was the art of adapting at work! A very typical sharp yet serene sound of a typical tram in Nice that got me scared the first time I was here three years ago. Had I actually been here before? I wasn’t quite sure apart from the fact that I remembered where the supermarket was (that came very handy indeed). That was a completely new feeling with the city and definitely a more involved and intimate one.
Off we step into Place Garibaldi and mentally make another courteous wave to the neighbouring Italy. There are all types of people walking by, happy and not very much so, but generally they seem more cheerful than back home. We didn’t have much time to take wrong turns as pleasurable as that would have been. We did have time to enjoy the same bougenvillas from the previous day and just marvel at this morning landscape we were essentially part of.
Port Lympia with its mountainous scenery gave a slightly different feel to what looked more like an exquisitely executed painting rather than someone’s reality. I remember this sight from my previous time here and how it seemed to make a sharp contrast from the Old Town but this time round it appeared to provide a perfect addition of the azure scenery. Is that us walking this gorgeously amazing area with real people drying their laundry and having conversations in the street…?
We arrived just in time for the talk by the British professor. We joined in the rest of the participants in the backyard area for some coffee and were lucky to have a chat with the professor himself. I told him about my dream of visiting London and how challenging it was to make it happen and by the looks of it, he seemed too overwhelmed to even feel sorry about that… He complimented my English and that gave me such a huge boost that I really wasn’t sure if I could succeed in accommodating all these happy feelings inside me without letting them slip into the azure space. My aesthetic senses were nurtured by the same male beauty I caught sight of across the backyard showing off a more casual but equally enchanting outfit. Yes, I did some research the day before and found out that was a scientist! Is that a dream with too much going on in it? Dreams don’t tend to be so elaborate and therefore we forget them while we still feel a recently interrupted sleep lingering on us. I wasn’t going to let that slip – ever! The British professor whose accent was charmingly flowing thanked us for stopping by and making his nerves better. I was really humbled by that – who was I for him to be thankful to…? He had no idea about my tentative relationship with science but here it seemed like a holiday romance passion that no one cares to go into explaining and speculating about, it’s just there to be captured by the soul and body or at least either of these… There were more people willing to talk to me as well and that gave a renewed hope of being able to strive to belong somewhere I was too shy to set my foot. I was starting feeling unwell again from the cold I’d caught back in Moscow and the heat of the early afternoon started getting into me as I was sitting listening to the British professor giving a talk about his study of lost languages. I just couldn’t let this stupid cold prevent me from making the most of the moment I had no idea would ever arrive!
This time lunch was to be served in a stunning terrace overlooking the Mediterranean – yes, just like that! That was a casual buffet lunch that offered a selection of beautiful seafood. We made sure we got our table and after I came back with some roasted ostriches and sandwiches (trying hard not to get hold of too much), I found my sister talking with another British professor who was to give her report the following day. I smiled at the sight as my sister and her looked like a hunter and a prey respectively! This way my sister made sure the company would be nice and that’s even more important than the food! Just before we knew, we had the American professor I had a conversation with the previous day rushing to our table to join us! That was a sign for me that the talk we had didn’t bore him! Nice! So that was going to be the four of us here in the basking Mediterranean sun they had to put up a shield to protect us against while we were deeply engaged in our conversation and the azure sea on the right! For an instant, different social and educational backgrounds didn’t seem to matter to me! And yes, as the American professor mentioned, Corsica wasn’t quite too far! We talked about the origin of our family names, our countries’ policies and the American was certainly the most vocal about that with his sunglasses over his eyes! The British lady was very courteous but friendly sipping on the tea she had brought in a thermos. What a divine cultural and linguistic practice for me! We were the ones most engrossed in our conversation and we had forgotten about the food and when I went to see if there was any left, there certainly wasn’t… It’s a shame because the seafood was the best ever even though I’m not a fan! Well, at least the conversation made up for that and made me yearn to get beyond the boundaries of my homeland. Travels have this victorious edge to them!
We were too elated and a bit hungry to stay any more so off we went along the endlessly azure coastline! I felt a bit like on my first day here but this time I felt like peering into this most beautiful meaningful azure emptiness of the Mediterranean to get it imprinted on my vision forever! That was such an effortless thing to do! We went down to the beach and saw some people sunbathing. I’ve never seen so many shades of blue even though I’d already been here! They were certainly worth coming back for! I think even my sister got that sentimental and dreamy feeling as we posed for some photos getting a few looks from some men who seemed just too young!
I was overwhelmed with how much I loved my sister for making it possible for us to come here! Another too belle to be true moment to experience for us! It was getting too hot and that stopped us from going up to the hill and getting some views from there. Instead, we ended up in a gorgeous park offering spectacular views of the coast. Does anything have to be said to this…? I’d already forgotten about feeling slightly unwell and I knew I would when treated to THE view! Another overwhelmingly serene moment of being content to be alive sitting on that bench overlooking the Mediterranean! I’m actually happy with words failing me in my recollection of the moment…
We walked back to the Port enjoying a few more lovely views on the way. We were desperate to get something to eat and found a low-key place with a wonderful view. We opted for the plats du jour which was a very nice deal. We were brought a large plate with a seafood salad generously sprinkled with olive oil, which I noticed was a typical thing to do here. We were craving for some champagne which ended up costing us just as much as the meal including a huge tiramisu (which literally means “lift me up” in Italian) that originated in the House of Savoy that used to rule Nice before it was taken over by the French. Well, life’s too short and with a victorious feeling shooting through our veins we needed champagne to top it off with! Cheers to us and the view on the right! Tiramisu if I’m dreaming!
After about an hour of this very reposing and relaxing meal, we made it back to the hotel and it was getting cloudy again. Another walk to the Old Town through the port looking a bit menacing against the grey azure sky brought us accidentally into a church overlooking the port where we stopped by for a while. L’église Notre-Dame-du-Port gave me another oddly spiritual experience I was craving for remembering those I had in Italy and Bulgaria. The church was deserted and being inside and taking a moment to look into the statues’ faces was magical!
As we walked a bit more till we reached Place Garibaldi, it started raining. Here at the junction of this area with the Old Town Nice felt a bit more like an ordinary city with people doing their shopping, getting on a tram.
It was until we reached Nice Cathedral and saw a mostly wonderful typically Southern things – orange trees with actual oranges hanging on them! That had to be one of the highlights of that trip! I was standing here in the rainy Mediterranean sky and looking up at these beckoningly beautiful oranges that were too high to reach out to! I felt a kid in me wishing I was tall enough to touch them! I was astounded and didn’t mind the rain dripping to land on my skin. These oranges were no less indicative of the relaxed Southern lifestyle than the Mediterranean itself! We kept walking through Le jardin Albert– I, Nice’s oldest public garden and admired some Italian statues here. We made a short cut to the hotel and stumbled across another Italian place we thought we might visit later.
As we got home, we couldn’t wait for the rain to stop. In the meantime we watched some TV and I admired how some men I saw there were just as handsome as those I’d seen in the street! It stopped raining just as abruptly as it started and took us back to the rue along the shopping street of the Avenue Jean Médecin, Mayor of Nice from 1928 to 1943, till we reached Basilique Notre–Dame de Nice, the largest church in the city. That was something characteristically French and magnifique! I took my time to peer into the characteristic rose windows of course!
There were a few construction sites nearby and just around the corner we saw what was recommended as the best crêpe place in Nice (the French equivalent of a pancake) but it had already been closed. After a bit more promenading that we were getting increasingly good at, we ended up walking not far from the Hotel Negresco and got some wonderful fruit (as we couldn’t get those oranges in front of the Nice Cathedral that I fell in love with) from a dodgy Chinese grocery. They were gorgeous! More contemplations, reflections about that talk with the American and British professor and how I could possibly make a change and find that missing piece. We spent a few hours here not saying much just peering into the French sky…
Back at Place Massena where we came for the daily portion of people-watching, we were a bit ashamed by our national character as we heard a group of fellow Russians singing the famous wartime song “Katyusha” being the only disorderly crowd in the square. This song alone is capable of generating a contagious burst of patriotism. Why on earth do they have to make such a disgrace of themselves singing it and thus drawing the police attention as the security was tight in the run up to the Football Championship. Another bunch of ugly drunken faces… No, I wasn’t feeling homesick at all! They wouldn’t keep it down even after the police warning and as it would be back home, there was soon a group of Russian women trying to flirt with them. No, let’s forget about that and walk a bit further not to get this lovely evening interrupted! Well, of course Russians would always spot each other in a crowd and we knew we would be asked by these ugly guys as we walk by why we didn’t join in their singing… We didn’t bother to answer. We ended the night with a cup of café in our hands away from the disorderly Russians. We were to make our report the following day! Bonne nuit!