Yesterday proved to be one of those days where it pays to be a little adventurous.
First of all, let me start by saying that at the start of the day, I didn’t anticipate doing much more than napping. The tickle in the back of my throat turned into an actual sore throat, and my glands were so swollen they made my entire head and neck ache. Well when our professor asked us “Qu’est-ce que tu vas faire cet après-midi?” Jon replied (much to my surprise) “Peut-être, on va aller à Èze.” So much for a nap…
We invited Ilona to come with us, since she said she hadn’t been, and made plans to meet her near the bus station at 1:45 to make it to our 2:00 bus. Unlike last time we went to Èze, when the weather was freezing and we welcomed the warm bus, the weather was gorgeous, which made the bus seem quite stuffy and warm. Alas, for a single euro, I can manage a stuffy 30 minutes.
Once we got to Èze Village, Ilona realized that she had indeed been there before, and had fond memories of it. I guess thats better than taking her some place that she hated. We did pretty much the exact same thing we did before; a lot of uphill walking to the top of the exotic gardens. A few of the cacti were of course, still covered, but the sunlight made everything much more beautiful.
As we were leaving Èze Village, instead of stopping some place for a bite to eat, we opted to take the path next to the hotel’s valet parking area that said something to the effect of “Èze-Sur-Mer 45 minutes.” Èze-Sur-Mer is a relatively new little village at the bottom of the mountain that ancient Roman Èze Village sits on. Jon, having remembered that a bus goes through the little village that could take us back to Nice, insisted we give the little path a try…
… This was no little path. And just because it was downhill doesn’t automatically make it easy. Though given that some of the poorly places steps were concrete, and there for not as old as the Roman village we left, it was still quite old, and not exactly well kept. Regardless, knowing in the back of our minds that we wouldn’t have to trek all the way back up the path kept us going. The sign was clearly written when watches ran slower though, because it definitely took us nearly an hour and a half to reach the bottom. We did however, take a little detour.
About half-way down our little mountain trail, I kept insisting “I hear water, there’s water near by.” Ilona was half convinced, but Jon wasn’t; figured it was just the wind rustling through the trees through the valley. As we got closer to the source of the noise, we all agreed it was water, and that we should find it. Jon thankfully spotted a very well hidden little path that went past a small, old ruined building, and just a little ways behind it was the waterfall. It was beautiful. They don’t exactly exist in Florida, so I haven’t seen one in quite a long time. We got right up next to it too, could have showered in it if we’d wanted to. We took a few needed pictures and after consulting our watches and our clothes, which were growing wetter with the mist, we proceeded back to the path. Definitely a wonderful find.
That being said, the past after that seemed rather long. Except for a few spots were the view opened up to something quite spectacular, there were no more waterfalls. We could hear it for a while, and in one little turn of our path we could just barely see through the shrubbery to see it, but other than that, the rest was just a rather long, downhill mountain hike. We slowly began to grow tired, and as the trees thinned and exposed us to the sun, we got warmer too. Eventually through we noticed the path become more civilized, and a few meters later it was a paved path. Unfortunately, if you’ve ever walked downhill something completely smooth, this part of the trip proved to be the most difficult. Your feet and knees hurt from gravity pulling your body on them in weird ways, and you’re gate is in that awkward stage between feeling the need to walk, and the need to sprint; sprinting of course resulting in the typical snowball effect, minus the snow. Once we made it down to flat ground, our knees and feet thanked us, and we sighed almost in unison “Oh thank goodness, flat ground.”
Now, since we decided to ignore our growling stomachs at the top of the mountain, they were particularly upset with us when we reached the bottom. We were a little underwhelmed when we got there too, because there wasn’t much more than just some rather lavish and expensive houses, and a restaurant that doesn’t serve food in the evening (someone please tell me how that makes sense, France…). We went searching for the beach and when we finally found a public entrance (something I’m not used to having to look for, being from Florida) we realized why Èze is known for their perfumes and not their wonderful beaches. They weren’t really anything special, and they were inside a bay where the water didn’t move much, so it was dirty and smelly. Either they found that they had wonderful ingredients to make perfumes and never bothered advertising for beaches, of their citizens needed something to make them smell better after swimming in the water. Who knows? Either way, we were ready to catch the bus home.
The bus ride home was probably the worst part of the whole day. Once we saw a bus stop, I realized that it was the same windy bus route we took to Monaco that left me feeling a little ill. I was not looking forward to this in the slightest, but I figured I would feel better just to have a place to sit. Well, the bus was packed; instead of sitting and feeling every little turn, I had to stand, making me feel every turn ten fold. I kept moving from one spot to another, probably annoying all the passengers around me, in search of a place where I could hold myself looking out the front of a bus. Unfortunately I only found this a few stops away from ours, but needless to say, I was not hungry when we got off the bus.
I was however, starving just a few minutes after getting off the bus and on to the tram, and even more parched than before. Jon and I agreed to get off the tram a little sooner and stop at the grocery store. Normally in the beverage section, Jon will reach for a beer he hasn’t tried before, and I flip flop between Orangina, Fanta Orange, Fanta Citron, and a variety of other juices. This time, all we wanted was Gatorade. They didn’t have the same choices I’m used to in the states, but it didn’t really matter what it tasted like, it was gone before we even got out of the store (and we opened them after paying for them!).
Once we got home it was really hard not to fall right to sleep. After dinner (which I was nearly too exhausted to eat), I took a really long shower, and proceeded to pass out just about when my head hit the pillow. Oddly enough though, I didn’t sleep that well last night; I was moving around a lot more than normal, which would result in me waking Jon up, and then him waking me up to tell me I woke him up and that I needed to move over. Lovely system. All and all though, totally worth it.
Now readers, I may be absent for a few days, because tomorrow after class, we’re going to TORINO! Finally. I’m so excited. I promise though, I’ll have quite the post for you when I return on Monday, so stay tuned!
Until then, the pictures:
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- The bridge over the valley to get to Èze
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- Èze Church
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- Random purple flowers in a bunch of daisies.
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- View from Èze Village on a much sunnier day.
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- Prickly Pears!
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- The crazy expensive hotel at Èze
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- Èze Hotel’s crazy huge granite chess board.
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- Uh, yes please?
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- Our path.
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- The waterfall!
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- So pretty and peaceful
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- Jon and I in front of the waterfall!
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- The waterfall again.
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- So pretty!
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- Halfway there!
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- So blue.
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- This is from the bottom looking up. We started somewhere past that big cliff.
Parlez Lentement. 