An Anniversary Celebration in Nice

The beach in Nice, France, is one of the most uncomfortable beaches I have ever been to.
Don't get me wrong, the city is beautiful and the vistas are breathtaking, but if you're in search of a beach to frolic along the Med, choose another place.

The rocky beaches don't keep families from the beach

I knew the beach in Nice was rocky when I made a mistake writing about a trip to Nice in my book The Summer of France. Luckily, a friend corrected me and I was able to go back and edit so that Fia's trip to the beach was filled with softly rounded stones.
My own trip to the beach might have been filled with worn stones, but I had no idea how painful they would be.
Before we went to the beach, I went to a beach shop and bought a 7 euro pair of flip-flops because I had forgotten to pack mine.
I foolishly thought that the flip-flops would protect my feet. They did on the walk down to the water, but the first wave that rolled forward washed a layer of stones between my feet and the shoe.  As I was trying to kick them out, I lost my flip-flop and it started to float away.
The water was chilly, so I sat down on the rocks and soaked my feet, each time another layer of rocks somehow covered my shoe, wiggling between my foot and the sole. Earl swam a bit, sans shoes; he must have tougher feet than I do because he stood on the floor of the sea. After awhile, we decided to head back to the towels. Here was the next tricky bit.
The descent to the sea is a bit steep. So I stood up, emptied the rocks from my shoes. I precariously balanced while I put them back on, only to have another avalanche of pebbles to fill my shoes before I could take my first step.
I realized that I could not walk up the incline with the flip-flops on, so I carried them,  yelping in pain while I climbed to the top of the embankment.
Another pause while I put my flip-flops on and then a brief walk to the towel where, you guessed it, I lay down on a pile of rocks.
It wasn't as bad as trying to walk.
I may have to go in and edit The Summer of France so Fia has as painful an experience as I did.
I have decided that old tennis shoes might be the answer to the rocky beach -- an old pair of converse would have kept the rocks out and saved the pain on my feet. I don't know how all those kids are running and swimming barefoot. I guess they get used to it.
But don't cry for me. This morning, Earl and I simply took the elevator up to the top floor and swam in the pool of our hotel.

This is the curve of the beach where we're staying to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. 

The pool on our rooftop

The view from the rooftop

We came to Nice to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary, which was Tuesday.
We traveled with Grace and Jack to the Pont du Gard, the ancient Roman aqueduct,

An amazing feat built in the first century AD

then we traveled to Carrières de Lumières, where art is projected on the walls of an old limestone mine and brought to life.

We've seen three exhibitions here. This one was Gaudi and Dali. 

Then we spent the night in Aix en Provence before leaving Grace and Jack behind. We used our credit card points to book a hotel in Nice, and now we have a lovely break along the shore.
But you won't catch me swimming. If only I'd packed some old tennis shoes.

Dreaming of France -- Uncorked

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
In the midst of my moving preparation, I found the time to read a relatively short memoir about a Canadian man who moved to Saint Paul de Vence to work in IT. The book is called Uncorked: My Year in Provence Studying Pétanque , Discovering Chagall, Drinking Pastis, and Mangling French.  He tells the story of how he fell in love with game of  pétanque and convinced a local man to teach him to play in the dark of night. Eventually, the man embraced him as a partner, and he became one of the locals playing pétanque by the cafe and ignoring tourists.

This was an entertaining book because it addressed a topic that is oftentimes touched upon in books but rarely focused on. Of course, the game wasn't the entire point. The game helped him integrate into the village. And since we are planning to move to France, we always wonder how we'll worm our way into local life. Earl pictures himself sitting on a bench watching pétanque and eventually being allowed to play with the other old men in the village. I think I'd better get him a coach.
Here's the beginning of Chapter 1:

The French word bisou  is used to describe the charming manner in which the French greet one another with a ceremonial kiss on both cheeks. This act should not be mistaken for a sign of real affection or even friendship but rather as a refreshingly warm way of saying hello or goodbye.
As tourists in France, we foreigners have all been witness to these tiny gifts, but rarely do we gain admittance into the tightknit club of the 60 million or so people who exchange them.... Receiving and delivering countless bisous during my year in the magical Cote d'Azur village of Saint-Paul de Vence made me feel a sense of "limited belonging," but when my neighbor, friend, and, most importantly, pétanque coach, Hubert bid me farewell by initiating a bisou, after my last match and last pastis as a local, it gave me pause to reflect on how close I had become to this part of the world, its people, its culture, and the game I fell in love with the minute I first laid eyes on it: pétanque!

 I loaned the book to Earl on Kindle so he can read it too. Hope it doesn't make him fear playing pétanque in France. It's mean to encourage him.
How about you? Have you ever played pétanque or boules as it is called in other parts of France? What about receiving or giving a bisou? Have you experienced that? 
I'd love it if you shared your experience. 
Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. Please leave your link below and visit each other's blogs to share your love for France.

Tuesday Intros -- I Promise You This

Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.

I'm reading a book set in France for FranceBookTours. I'll be reviewing I Promise You This by Patricia Sands on May 20, and  there will be a book giveaway, so I hope you'll come back for that.
Here's the intro:

Rain pelted down.
The limo crawled along in a clog of traffic. For the most part, the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers was all that broke the silence.
Philippe knew that Kat was struggling to keep her composure. He kept the conversation light and brief as they looked out from the backseat. "Now you see why I never take a taxi into Paris from the airport. At least with a hired car and driver, I don't have to watch the meter skyrocket if we get caught like this."
Kat nodded expressionless, staring straight ahead. She thought it fitting that the weather was as gloomy and dark as the feelings she was fighting.
When the familiar landmarks of the Left Bank came into view, her mood began to lift. She leaned her head back against the seat. Her hand nestled in Philippe's. 

I had to keep the intro going until we got to a definitely French part -- the Left Bank.
I look forward to seeing what everyone else is reading.

Dreaming of France -- Magic in the Moonlight

Please join this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
I knew that Woody Allen had a new movie coming out, but I had no idea that it was set in the south of France until my friend Greg texted and told me that I should see Magic in the Moonlight.
I'm not a big Woody Allen fan, but I loved Midnight in Paris. I figured that, like me, Allen might have fallen in love with France. Maybe the culture helped him to relax a little and make his movies less neurotic.
Magic in the Moonlight is a far cry from some of Allen's insular New York movies with hysterical characters that obsess about small details. So maybe living in France has mellowed Allen.

The movie stars Colin Firth and Emma Stone -- two actors whose work I really enjoy. Firth plays Stanley Crawford, a famous magician. He travels to the south of France with a magician friend who requests his help unmasking a spiritualist. I think this part of the movie must have been based on Harry Houdini, who was a magician and who fought with spiritualists; spiritualists are people who claim to be able to speak to the dead.
Emma Stone plays the spiritualist character, Sophie Baker, a young woman from Kalamazoo, Michigan, traveling Europe with her mother, reading people's vibrations and talking to the dead. She is staying with a wealthy family from Pittsburgh, and the heir has fallen in love with her. Stanley's job is to unmask Sophie and break the spell.
As you can imagine, Stanley is a man committed to logic who doesn't believe in a spiritual life at all, and he becomes intrigued with Sophie's ability.
This film moved a little slowly. It didn't sweep me away the way Midnight in Paris did. I never forgot that I saw in the cinema with greasy buttered popcorn on the tips of my fingers.

The scenes set along the Cote d'Azur were lovely; the water sparkled more than Sophie's engagement ring.  Stanley's aunt lived in Provence, so the movie ventured there a few times. Although not much of Provence was visible, the feeling of Provence permeated. The light in the film helps remind you why artists like Van Gogh travel there to paint.
I don't regret seeing the movie, although it dragged a bit. I love France enough that I'll take any little gulps of it I can get.
But if you can only see one movie set in France this fall, I'd go with The Hundred Foot Journey.

Dreaming of France -- Cannes Beach circa 1983

Please join this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
Maybe we can all satisfy our yearnings for France, until we get there again
I have only visited France two times in August. And the first time I went, the camera I had was one of those little square instamatics. The photos are not stellar, but still I thought you'd enjoy seeing how crowded the beach was in Cannes on this long ago day in 1983.

The cluster of clothed people in the middle was the student tour I was on. They spread lunch on a mat there and we all descended like vultures.
If you enlarge the photo, you can see the more scantily clad French people.
I'd even brave the crowds if I could return to France this summer.