I’m dreaming of Nice.
February?
“Tree, you are so tall.”
Taken at a rest stop in France somewhere on the way from Bordeaux to Troyes, 2010.
The LA Times
When I was deciding seven months ago whether it made sense (financially and otherwise) for me to go to France for the second time in four months, I decided that a good way to justify it was to write a travel story. After getting ignored by Budget Travel, I pitched a story to the LA Times back in April, sent it in in July, and now, in November, it finally came out in last week’s Sunday edition.
I was nervous writing this story because riding the train was so underwhelming both times, and I honestly wasn’t sure if it was even a worthy story anymore. I remember calling CD in a panic on the train, worried because the French train that billed itself as a party train did NOT resemble anything remotely like a party. Thank god for having the voice of reason on speed dial.
The Story: Partying on the iDNight train to Paris
The fall I wanted has arrived in Seoul, and it feels deliriously wonderful to walk in the crispness and feel your body creating heat to affront the chill.
However, and there always is a however somewhere in my life, I have been feeling this photo so acutely the past few days. One afternoon this summer I took the train from Menton to Antibes and spent about an hour and a half at the Picasso museum, which as Picasso museums go, is not better than the ones in Paris and Barcelona. But it was a glorious afternoon of sun, sun, and more sun and when I looked out those windows, all I could see was the chateau wall and the azure Mediterranean beyond it. It was a scene of serenity, which doesn’t seem to be a particularly prized state of mind in Seoul.
One more photo of Eze Village before I head over to lunch. Hello beautiful green windows!
When I saw this girl, I thought nice butt. Antibes, France
An Evening in Nice
Readers, Nice was nice.
I didn’t pay for a beach chair even though i wouldn’t have minded drink service because 1) i enjoy laying on the rocks and 2) it seemed wrong to charge 14 Euro for your own little space of the beach. The whole idea seems slightly more American than French…
It seems like Nice is one of those places where it doesn’t matter how many vacationers, tourists, or annoying people there are, it just spits out charm (sometimes mildly dilapidated) everywhere you go.
I don’t think even the most hardcore dieters could resist this, could you? I wasn’t dieting, thank goodness, because otherwise I could have only gotten TWO scoops instead of my daily three:
Salted Butter Caramel, Glazed Chestnut, and Jasmine. This is kind of a morbid question, but do you think that if you were on death row and requested this to be your last meal, they would somehow procure it for you?
Oh, the scent!
Dinner was a goat cheese and eggplant millefeuille that was divine. What was not divine was spilling rose all over my white blouse and silk skirt. How classy!
The evening ended here, half-watching the partial moon, half-watching the light it shone.
A Sweet Day in Paris
Darlings, all I did was follow the sign
And I saw skinny jeans, heels, and a Maje shopping bag. Add to that a Velib and I had myself a Parisienne vision
Did you know that the Velib is not actually as cheap as everyone seems to think it is? It’s free for the first 30 minutes, but our 2-hour ride cost us 7 euros each.
Wisps of hair
My lover and I make it a point to grab at least one falafel at Chez Marianne every time we’re in Paris. We always also make the mistake of getting a strudel for dessert, forgetting that it has never been good and that we always throw it away
So much deliciousness packed into one pita bread that it makes the mess worth it. I wish I could be a dainty eater, but I can’t ask for too much
Who do you think the Marais-ians were telling to leave them alone?
If you shut your eyes and have a superb imagination, it really can be a pleasant time at Paris Plage.
I call this one Paris Pretending To Be Los Angeles
I adore cheese so freaking much that this photo sums up my favorite course of most of the meals I have in France. From top left, clockwise: Comte, Brie, Chaource, Tome, Morbier, and Goat Cheese. My top three: Comte, Goat Cheese, Chaource. Everyone laughs at me because I eat cornichons with cheese. Apparently, it is a no-no of sorts in France, sort of like how I really enjoy mixing sweet and salty flavors even though everyone looks at me with politely amused expressions that don’t really belie their disgust. I used to care, but things have changed, and besides, McDonald’s is the largest employer in France!
A photo for the weekend, sweeties
We were driving from Nigloland (do not go there) back to Troyes when I kept seeing these vast sunflower fields. Even though sunflowers are always a welcome sight in my life, they were made even better in light of the eight hours I had just passed at an amusement park that was not Disneyland
