Nice to be here with you
Caleb—even Vacation Caleb—does not nap; he occasionally rests his eyes. And he is resting his eyes next to me on the bus to Boston. This adventure feels different. An epilogue? Not a preface.
A new chapter.
Chapter Three.
Have successfully celebrated our wedding weekend, I continue to congratulate ourselves on our decision to honeymoon directly following our wedding. While I was looking forward to our wedding weekend for obvious reasons (having all of the people we love in the same place at the same time, executing an excellent paced event, MARRYING CALEB), I have also been looking forward to our honeymoon and the selfish joy of having no other obligations than being together for two whole weeks.
We board our connection from Dublin at the same time as a new moon, and auspicious beginning.
‘Welcome to expensive paradise,’ our seatmate gestures out the window as we are touching down in Nice. He is staying for ten days in Cagnes, just to the west of the airport. I wonder whether to explain to him that we are from Boston, and the only more expensive cities to travel to are in Switzerland*, but we are landing, and I have gotten us seats 1B and 1C because I knew how excited we would be to grab our bags and be on our way.
We step out of the Uber at our hotel half an hour after check-in opens, perfectly planned, thank you very much. We land, enjoy a satisfying shower, and within an hour Caleb is leading the way to a local café, Le Country Store.
We enjoy a delicious chocolate-chip-banana scone-type-thing and a couple cortados before heading down to the seashore.
It’s early yet, and we’re on Tourist Time, so we continue our wandering to Delano Cocktail Bar, a bar Caleb has bookmarked for its impressive NA cocktails. After navigating to the correct menu via the QR code on the table rather than the Delano bar in Paris I had managed to find instead, we place our orders: A Spicy Passion for Caleb, and a Purple Rain for myself.
In the evening we resolve to wander to one of the two Irish pubs in Vieux Nice our hotel concierge had recommended for watching the France-Spain match, although when we do we discover that there is no space to be found at either Wayne’s or Ma Nolan’s. This broadly works in our favour, however, as we get to enjoy the World Cup atmosphere on a national holiday in a low commitment way. When Caleb needs to eat, he realises we simply have to find a place without a television in order to be assured service. We sit down at an outdoor table at Noori’s, and it is only when I start to get excited about ordering the menu option that I realise I probably need to eat, too.
In the end, the absence of cheers informs us France has lost, which is a disappointment, yet further validates our decision to dine rather than spectate. We got to watch a group of kids play football on the sidewalk while we did, which given the match outcome may have been the better performance.
* Not strictly true according to this ranking, but close enough for comparison.
The next day we order room service breakfast—as it is not included at our hotel—so we can wake up slow. Caleb smartly moved the reservation to 9am from the 8 or 8:30 I had recommended, figuring we would be awake early. We were not, and we still got to wake up without any alarm. This proves to be an even more prudent decision after breakfast, when I lie down and nap for two hours.
Ready to greet the day, we head to a café. Caleb chuckles almost patronisingly when I start to walk towards Le Country Store.
’Of course, how could I have assumed otherwise,’ I start, ‘I’m sure you have a list.’
We wend instead around the corner to Maison Karlie, which is also a coffee roaster. Thankfully the puppy game does not disappoint.
Our next item on the to-do list is to shop for sun hats, although when we swing by the La Chapellerie a sign on the door informs us they close daily from 13h-14h—and a sticky note on top of the sign informs us that they are closed today from 13h15 to 16h15.
The next availability for the walking tour we want to do being two Sundays from now, we determine to host our own walking tour of Vieux Nice, which commences immediately.
Caleb sneaks us around into a Catholic church, and I get to have a little chat with Nana and Grammy (who enjoyed the champagne—and the celebration—greatly) at an altar to Mary and Joseph, and around the side back towards the entrance there’s an homage to Saint Catherine, a great dame.
At the café at the top of the city hill—in addition to drinking some of the most refreshing water I’ve ever had—I listen to a musician play an instrumental version of Despacito while overhearing this conversation between an Irish couple:
’No whiskey?’ she asks, surprised, although it’s not yet midafternoon.
’I’ll start in a wee bit. But you should get a beerskey,’ he reassures her.
Our walking tour ends at La Chapellerie, where we buy fabulous locally made sun hats, and regretfully neglect to post for a selfie (all the sadder as I had tucked a sprig of flowers into my hair, which was holding up beautifully and went perfectly with my ensemble).
For dinner all I want to do is eat pizza at the heart-shaped pizza place, Les Amoureux. Les Amoureux does not disappoint. We order one of their signature pies and a Tentazione (smoked mozzarella, semi-dried cherry tomatoes, black lemon), my desire to try so many items on the menu quelled by the reminder that we will come back again. We arrived at a good time: just before a line forms outside, but late enough that we’re both hungry—19h45 or so, a little after they’d opened. I’d say I eat a whole pizza and have never been happier, but it’s not quite true. I eat half a heart-shaped pizza and a third of the Tentazione, the perfect amount of pizza for each of us. I’m not beaming quite as much as I was at our wedding, perhaps, but this pizza is better and I’m able to enjoy it more fully.
Home and ready for bed, Caleb sleeps soundly next to me while I feel grateful France didn’t win. I learn what must be Argentina’s victory song as I’m trying to fall asleep.
Today we are well set up for our vacation ahead. We have ogled every update from Melissa in Ruaidhrí’s album, reserved a tour of Gorges du Verdon for tomorrow, scheduled a trip through Eze to Monaco for Monday (where we can gratify Mary Powers by visiting Eze and returning if we like, and I am confident I will finish a lap more successfully than Max Verstappen this year), and booked an escape room for Saturday when the high is forecast to be 38ºC. Also on our list are a beach day and a spa day, both of which I am assured we will accomplish. Beyond that we can choose to ferry to San Tropez; take up recommendations to visit Port Grimaud, Villefranche, Cap Ferrat, Carcassonne, Fontfroide, or even drive into Italy; or spend some more time lingering in places we’ve enjoyed along the way. Also, more pizza.
While we probably won’t have pizza again a second night in a row, I can’t wait to find out what’s for dinner!