It’s official: the French Riviera is Phat. It is all you have heard about it: beautiful beaches, ridiculous villas pearched on the edge of cliffs to the ocean, wealth dripping from everywhere. We took a train from Rome to Nice in France en route to Barcelona. We stayed at this great hostel filled with young people and a packed bar that served 1 Euro drinks. We spent the first day on the beach at Nice. We also happened to run into a bocce ball tournament. It was the funniest thing to see all of these old men in matching shirts and straw hats playing bocce at a professional level. This was no fun and games lawn bowling, this was serious business. The center few courts (I guess that is what they are called) had stands around them and areas for the media. It was kind of erie. The beach itself was also great because as usual for europeans, the French have no aversion to toplessness. The only one who wasn’t topless was Derek, because he got an incredible sunburn that makes him look vaugly like a lobster wearing a white tuxedo.
The next day was even better. We took a train over to a small village called Cap D´ail. That is where the really rich people live. There is an amazing beach and a cave you can swim out to in the surrounding cliffs. We then decided (stupidly) to walk down the paths along the sea to the next stop for the train: Monaco. Yep, D-Rock and Dema the Greek rolled into Monte Carlo. Although I wouldn´t say that we rolled too big. The walk was an excruciating two hours in the very hot sun and we were really scrubby by the time we got there. In fact, the last few hundred meters were through this tunnel that I think was only designed for car traffic. It smelled and was very dirty. Derek accidently brushed up against the sooty wall and got black all over his beloved Cubs shirt. To ease his troubled mind, I bought him the cheapest, most touristy “I love Monaco” shirt I could find. I myself was wearing a green hawaiian shirt over my bathing suit, so I didn´t look much better. The walk was pretty cool though beacue we saw all of these villas with their own little paths down to the ocean. I couldn´t decide which one I wanted to purchase, so I have decided to wait and buy one next time. We didn´t gamble, but we did get to see the craziest yachts and cars you could imagine. We feel alright though, because the NEXT time we go into Monaco, we will not be walking, we will be Yachting! We´ll always have the story to tell over cigars and wine when we are dining and living the good life. But at least for now, we will be sleeping on an overnight train to Barcelona! España here we come!
Brian
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