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Nice Job

Fall colours.  Could be Vermont in October.  No, wait, Cote d’Azur on the cusp of Halloween.  Go figure.

 

Flight over was perhaps the best ever YVR to Europe; smooth boarding through two skybridges, boarded early, departed early, really efficient and friendly crew, dinner service excellent (they even came by to offer cracked pepper, take that AC), no turbulence, few hours sleep, arrival early, easy transfer.  I mean it puts AC and Lufthansa and British to shame.  At least up front it does.

 

Leaving YVR, starting dinner service, descending into CDG

Fairly long layover at CDG.  Clarins in the shower; no complaints.

Noon in an AF lounge: Time for Champagne and madeleines. Gotta love AF.
Leaving CDG

Flight CDG to Nice very efficient.  On a brand new A220.  And when I say brand new, the captain announced it had arrived into the AF livery three days earlier.  Wow.  Never been on a newer plane. Ever.

Temperature in Nice upon arrival stifling.  It had hit 27, although during the cab to the centre the dash thermometer went all the way down to 25.5.  So…you know.

I got something of a second wind and went for an hour plus walk.  Lovely evening, breeze, but humid, and came back a sweat box.  Dead by 8:30.

 

Hilton is a new build. Nothing to write home about, but nothing to complain about.

Building new in old cities is riddled with complexity, so it’s no surprise the hotel sits next to the railway station where land is, in historical terms, “more flexible”; however, there’s an exterior glass wall, a second wall, which provides superb soundproofing.  Nothing to rave about but new, clean, comfortable, twice the size of a Paris comparable, and, wait for it, with air conditioning.  Which the client controls.  Cool.

 

Wednesday morning up with gusto.  Headed out to the Matisse museum to start.  Gorgeous morning.  It was a short-ish walk, 40 minutes from the hotel, but up hill.  Up the hill of a mountain.  All uphill.  It took some effort.  Wasn’t expecting to go through two shirts a day!

 

The crest of the mountain, in a tony area of the city called Cimiez, hosts the Hotel Regina, where Matisse settled for decades, the ruins of a Roman settlement, a mansion converted to his museum, and a monastery.  Top of the hill, of course there’s a monastery…  The monastery has a lovely garden on the south side with lemon trees, jasmine, and roses, and a graveyard to the north where Raoul Dufy, among other notables, is buried.

Roman amphitheatre, which abuts the Matisse museum
Hotel Regina, where Matisse “settled” for many years
An Yves Klein room with one of his signature monochrome blues was set as a juxtaposition to late Matisse.
View from the monastery graveyard; they’re dead, they’re all dead; view SE from the monastery garden

 

An archaeological museum, next door to the mansion where the Matisse exhibits live, is an archive of excavated remains as well as part of the Roman settlement.

Walked downhill to the centre after the visit to both museums, in the shade, with a breeze, and still was sweating.  Had a superb lunch at the NYT recommended Banh Mi; meatballs, wontons and a spicy banh mi (on whole grain French baguette!).  It was teeming with Instagrammers and tourists who were tracing the NYT recommendations.

 

Claudius. Doesn’t look so crazy.

My ticket to the Matisse museum, for an additional sum, included about a dozen other cultural opps.  Lunch was near a “palace” meaning the home of a rich family who had donated the site to the state.  Checked it out; it was, well, garish in a 19th century way and home to a repository of antique instruments.

 

Walked south to the sea and stopped by a photography museum, also included on my museum pass.  They had just opened a Vivian Maier show.  Although I’d seen the documentary Finding Vivian Maier (which they were showing in an auditorium as part of the exhibit) I’d never seen her work.  Wow.  And Wow.  And then my brain said Wow again. The two boys below were titled “Canada, 1958.”  Huh.

Walked back to the hotel, drenched in sweat.  Took a rest then headed out again for a lovely early evening walk.  The hordes were out.  It was of course a Wednesday at the end of October.  Peak hordes season.

The author of Here Hare has traveled to over 45 countries on six continents, and has lived in Canada, the UK and Australia.

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