30-Day Solo Travel in Europe | Day 16: Nice's Blue Coast and Chagall's Pink Palette
5/24/2023
(Previous chapter of my journey: 30-Day Solo Travel in Europe | Day 15: Châteauneuf-du-Pape Wine Tour)
I checked out of my Avignon hotel in the morning and, alone with my luggage, boarded a train bound for Nice. As usual, I arrived at the station about an hour early, allowing myself some spare time for a nice cup of coffee. The coffee shop options were limited, and I hesitated between Eric Kayser and Starbucks. In the end, I was swayed by the very pleasant sight of the cute young man behind the counter at Eric Kayser. Since I was in France, might as well seize the chance to practise a few words with a handsome local. So I ordered a cafe latte. The boy replied in English with a lovely French accent, ‘Okay, please wait on the other side. It will take about a minute.’ And the person who actually made my coffee turned out to be an old man with a sincere smile. Honestly, the coffee itself was nothing special (just machine brewed coffee) but the warmth of his smile made my day!
Boarding the train proved more complicated than expected. The platform display showed my carriage, number eight, was in section R. But once I was on board with my luggage, I couldn't find my seat number. After some frustrating back-and-forth, I realised my seat was at the very front of the train, while I was at the very back. Having no other options, I dragged my suitcase through seven carriages, doing my best to ignore the gazes from other passengers judging, and finally found my spot.
Nice itself doesn't have a huge number of sightseeing attractions, and most are within walking distance. To save on transport costs, I stuck with the most basic method: walking! I walked with my luggage in about fifteen minutes from the station to my hostel. The room wasn't ready yet, so I left my luggage in the storage room and set off for the Marc Chagall Museum.
The collection focuses mainly on Chagall's biblical story paintings, a beautiful mosaic wall, and some manuscripts. The most special section was the ‘Song of Songs’ exhibition, displaying five paintings in an entirely pink palette. Inspired by his second wife, Valentina, Chagall created these works in response to the love and longing in the biblical ‘Song of Solomon’. The fascinating part was that next to each painting was a matching rose-scented perfume, carefully selected for the artwork by former Hermès head perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena. Visitors could dab the scent onto a testing strip, inhale the rosy fragrance, and examine the brushstrokes and colours of the painting, a multisensory art experience that blended sight and smell.
On the walk back to the hostel, I passed by the seafront and was instantly captivated by the dazzling sunlight and azure blue. The sound of the waves against the shore, over and over, seemed to wash my worries away, at least for a little while. To be honest, Nice doesn't have any must-see famous landmarks but its true charm lies in this utterly relaxing atmosphere.
After checking in and getting to my room, I discovered this hostel was a bit more disappointing than the one in Amsterdam. The bed sheets had old, dark stains, and the mattress sagged so deeply in the middle it offered almost no support. Last time it was 4-bed dormitory. This time it was a six-bed one.
For dinner, I chose a restaurant with a nice atmosphere and sat outside drinking my Gin & Tonic. Prices in the South of France are higher than in Paris. For those craving a decent meal, it means your wallet has to pay the price.
These two weeks away from Hong Kong, completely on my own, have given me one clear feeling: the magic of travelling is that it makes you forget time. What day of the week is it today? It doesn't seem to matter anymore. Here, the markers of time blur, leaving only the present moment. You pay extra attention to the sunlight, the sea breeze, the smiles you meet by chance, and the pleasant buzz from the glass in your hand. Perhaps that's the purest sense of living.
