orwellianTwo

Ah, la belle France, land of life, country of culture, bounteous home of fine food and fine wine, home of very amenable entry requirements for fully-vaccinated Brits…

(… sorry, I meant to say “…and that special quintessential je ne sais quoi that is at the romantic heart of all that is French”.)

Anyway, we’ve come to spend an all-too-few nights in sumptuous Nice, a jewel on the Cote d’Azur, lying between those notorious slum-ridden shanty towns of Monaco and Antibes. Well, you gotta go somewhere y’know…

Founded in antiquity by the Greeks, who named it after the goddess Nike (in honour of the knock-off gear they all picked up in the flea markets around the Vieux Port), Nice has been an Italian place for much of its history. Which is not surprising as we are about 20 miles from the modern border. I say “modern” because the region actually belonged to various dukedoms up until the mid-19th century and that was before Italy became a unified state.

I’d go into more detail of how it flip-flopped between Italians and French and how the locals didn’t speak either language (they spoke Occitan), but, as I said I don’t have much time here and it’s lovely outside, so here are some more piccies…

By the way, in the top photo you can see the world-famous Hotel Negresco, cheapest rooms this week around €300 a night. (Let me know when you’re coming). Like most of the big hotels it lies right on the Mediterranean shoreline, just as the British well-to-do liked it when they discovered the French Riviera in the 18th and 19th centuries. Staying over the winter months before the summer heat got too much for them, the poor dears, they kick-started tourism here and the legendary shoreline still bears witness to them – Promenade des Anglais.

Appetit whetted? Good. Look, I really have to go now, the Mediterranean’s happening outside. I promise I’ll be back later with more photos, more stories, more stuff. Until then, enjoy the pics. Au revoir!