Things I should have blogged about in the past few weeks but didn’t so I’m doing it now. Voilà.

What’s blogging consistently anyways?  Blogging is for people who actually have time…

Me, I’m busy living the Nice way, lazily, slowly, and carelessly.  Rough life, I know.  A “nice” way of living if I do say so myself.  Here, you never know what the night life entails until it begins.  Plans are more loosely made than your favorite pair of oversized sweatpants.  And a stroll through the old town usually ends up as rendez-vous with someone you know.  It’s fabulously carefree and  it’s been consistently astounding how things just seem to work out in the end.

Equally as astounding, is the sun.  There is always sun.  Well, except at night time obviously, but it’s an incredibly rare moment when the sun isn’t out during the day.  I haven’t seen a drop of rain in the past three and a half weeks that I’ve been here.  The temperature hasn’t dropped below 55, and is usually at a lovely 60 degrees.  For a weather-worn new englander, it’s like living in an alternate universe where beautiful, consistent weather actually exists.

There is no such thing as the best view in Nice because all the views are beautiful.

Everything is delicious. Pain bagnat. Socca. Pissaladière. Baguette. Croissants. Pain au Chocolate. Pain aux raisins. Chocolate chaud. Beignets. Crepes. Butter. Macarons. Roasted Chicken. Yogurt. Wine. Pizza. Fresh Pasta.  Gnocchi. Chocolate. Avocados.

I’ve meet the loveliest, kindest, friendliest people here than I ever have in my entire life. A personal theory of mine is that Sweden and Norwegia breed people like this (there is a large majority of Swedes and Norwegians at the international school I go to for classes).  Besides Northern Europeans, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Brazilian, Japanese, Chinese, Russian, Canadian, and American students.

Rue de france

Last weekend, I attended a crepe party.

My french has improved.  This is especially true after a couple of glasses of wine.

Cashiers at major supermarkets sit in chairs. This is smart.

People generally use their own grocery bags that they’ve bought or recycled rather than polluting the earth with a copious amount of plastic each time they go grocery shopping.  This is also smart.

From between 5 and 7 pm you can observe nearly the entire population of Nice carrying baguettes.

Order “un café” and you are ordering a shot of espresso.  I like it better this way.

Poop.  It’s everywhere.  Watch your step.

Watching disney movies in french has become my favorite method for improving my mastery of the french language.

My life has likely been shortened by one year from the amount of second hand smoke I’ve inhaled.  No regrets.

Copious amounts of fat and sugar.  Also, no regrets.

And these are all the things I’d like to say about Nice.  Stay tuned for another inconsistently blogged post.

Good Stuff (Nice, France)

wandering through the old town (la vieux nice)

dried fruit like you’ve never seen it before

Reality

So this is supposed to be the least stressful time of my life, or some nonsense like that.  Yet somehow, I’ve still managed to slack off in the writing department.  It’s not that there’s nothing to write about, oh, there’s plenty, it’s just that I’ve been just too darn busy roaming the streets of nice, making crepes, overdosing on sugar, ripping apart roasted chickens, watching movies in french, and eating porchetta.

When I imagined living in Nice, I pictured myself sitting outside a cafe, writing on my laptop, slowly savoring a coffee and croissant, watching all the handsome european men walk by, and letting the afternoon pass me by.  Thus far, I haven’t fullfilled this fantasy, but reality has turned out to be quite lovely despite the fact that a cup of coffee here is actually a shot of espresso, and thus barely enough to savor for more than a couple of sentences.  And contrary to my day dream, there aren’t nearly enough handsome european men passing my way.

Rather, my friend (with whom I am traveling) and I have been wandering along the streets of Nice, becoming acquainted with the streets and people inhabiting them much more quickly than I had expected.  We’ve been here for two weeks and we have a favorite fruit and vegetable shop, a favorite socca shop (socca is a regional specialty – a giant pancake made of chickpea flour with the loveliest crispy edges), and a favorite boulangerie/patisserie that we frequent nearly daily.  We’re slowly working our way through our list of things to eat; checking off crepes a la nutella, macarons, porchetta, socca, pain bagnat, pizza, croissants, cheese, baguette, roasted chicken, and madelines.

You could say it’s a pretty carefree lifestyle we lead, but it’s far more stressful than it seems.  Just the other day, we had to decide what we’d have for lunch.  It’s actually an excruciatingly difficult decision to make when your heart is torn between gnocchi and pain bagnat and your stomach doesn’t care what your heart wants because it’s so effing hungry.  We settled upon a grand pain bagnat each from our favorite boulangerie and were able to return to our regular state of contentedness.  And you don’t know what stress is until your friend is leaving you and you have 14 different food vendors/restaurants/cafes to try and only a few days within which to try them in.  Try prioritizing between roasted pork and steak frites.  Impossible.

Also impossible?  Not eating nutella when it is in your presence.

Good Stuff (Nice, France)