Nice: Very Nice

We only had one day in Nice, and it turned out to be one of the most pleasant we spent. (I can't be the only one who has a regular dialogue in my head every time I see the name of the city, cycling rapidly from "neece" to "nice" to "neece". I'm not sure I'm making myself clear.)

First stop: lunch. An outdoor market, scattered with small scruffy dogs, strollers, and stalls. The lunch was, I don't mind saying, a masterpiece. A baguette, of course, with some melty, creamy, rich cheese, strawberries, avocados to smear on the bread, a spicy olive mix that dripped pungent juice through the plastic baggie, and some of the most oily, savory, delicious sun-dried tomatoes I've ever had the pleasure of stuffing into my maw.

After devouring every last morsel, we took a short, heavy nap. I woke up with the sinking feeling that I'd just gotten a dreadful sunburn. Indeed I had.

Next stop: the top o' the hill, once an important military lookout point with a modest fort. No fort anymore, just some unobtrusive ruins and glorious, jaw-dropping views.

Some more gratuitous lookout point porn:

These moments were more of those unbelievable, breeze-in-your-hair, sun-on-your-face, wouldn't-be-anywhere-else moments.

As we made our reluctant descent, we came upon a cemetery. Jackpot! Of all of the maggot metropoli I have visited on my travels, this was my favorite, a real stunner. If I sound flippant, it's only because I take my cemeteries very seriously (gravely?) indeed. We wandered around the seemingly endless aisles of tombstones and memorials, breaking the peaceful silence only to point out a wonderful epitaph or some other point of interest.

the buttery yellow church that stands behind the cemetery

I felt, if I were a dead person, I wouldn't mind living here, taking deep breaths (or not, I suppose) of the cool air on top of the hill, and looking out over the entire bustling city from a cocoon of silence.

From Western to Eastern Europe, we noticed photographs on gravestones. Not on all of them, but a good portion. Some old, some in color, some candid, some posed.

The end of the day was a dud, with our much-anticipated vegetarian restaurant being closed on Saturdays (really?) and my burned feet aching, but in spite of that, Nice was one of the Nice-est days we had.