Spring Break: Nice, Genoa, Cinque Terre, Monaco, and Nice Again

Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one.  As I procrastinate on packing up my room, I'm going through all the pictures I took over spring break, already missing the shining water and warm sun.  Deciding against going up north to the Nordic countries for spring break was quite possibly the best decision I've made all year; I don't think I could've made it through two weeks of being cold after it just stopped being freezing in Paris.  Instead, I spent two weeks (minus the days with strep throat; see previous post) laying on beaches and wandering with a mindset of relaxation.

The Saturday spring break started, I hopped on an eight AM train from Paris to Nice: travel time a little under six hours, napping through much of it.  I stayed in Nice for three nights and immediately fell in love with the city; everyone was relaxed and friendly, and the weather was absolutely amazing.  The second day I was there, I actually walked two towns over to Villefrance-sur-Mer with a girl I met at my hostel, and the view from the beach was absolutely stunning and definitely worth the 2+ hours it took to walk there (we took a train back).

The beach-- covered in rocks

The view from the old tower (yes, it was an overcast morning)

Leaving the beautiful sun of Nice (though I know the pictures don't look like it), I hopped on a train to Genoa, Italy, where I stayed for two nights.  Things I appreciate about hostels: very cheap way to travel.  Things I don't appreciate about hostels: bunking in a room with people who snore like bears.  Anyway, I digress.  Genoa seems to have been built on a hill: you can't walk for more than ten feet without encountering an incline or decline unless you're walking right along the water, at the Old Port.  Still, with all the hills, at least I earned the gelato I ate-- because when in Italy, it's always gelato o'clock.

It says it's a street, but I don't believe it...

Apparently they like motorcycles in Italy

The Old Port

The old ship at the Old Port

Rolling out of bed bright and early to catch my train (well, trains plural, if you want to be specific) to Monterosso in the Cinque Terre, I noticed I felt under the weather, but thought nothing of it.  Oh how wrong I was.  My first day in Cinque Terre was absolutely beautiful: the sun was shining, there was a nice breeze, and the water was the bluest I had ever seen.  The next few days, however, I was out of commission with strep throat-- see previous post for details.  Luckily, I was cured by my last full day in Cinque Terre, which meant that I did in fact get to see all the towns, though I wasn't able to hike between them.

The conclusion I came to in my day wandering the Cinque Terre villages was that I absolutely have to return, ideally sometime in late June/early July so I can truly experience the beauty of what the towns have to offer.  The day I had to explore was mildly overcast, but the towns were still absolutely stunning, tiny streets packed with stalls filled with everything you could imagine.  I have just one complaint to file: according to the sign, there are 350 steps from the train station up to the town of Corniglia, the third Cinque Terre village.  After careful counting, however, I discovered that there are, in fact, 383.  Corniglia, you are a cruel taunt.  Fix your signage.  Apart from that, however, the villages were absolutely stunning.

Is this not the most beautiful view you've ever seen?

And then it was overcast

The main street in Vernazza

The town of Vernazza

The stormy seas

One of the many switchbacks on the stairs up to Corniglia

Look, I got someone to take a picture of me! (Yes, I am wearing an NYU shirt.  It was the only one I had that had been unaffected by my illness)

A church in Manarola

While waiting for my train to take me all the way from Cinque Terre back to Nice for the last few days of my break, I ran into a girl who also had a large duffel backpack on.  As it turned out, she was also going from Cinque Terre to Nice and staying there for a few nights; thus, a friendship was born.  We ended up taking a day trip to Monaco from Nice for one of the days, which was super fun though killed my feet, because, though you may not know this, Monaco is also built entirely on a hill.  And no, I did not gamble-- as it turns out, you have to pay fifteen euros just to be able to enter the casino, and I was not about to bet that I could earn back that fifteen euros on my mediocre poker skills.  Still, wandering around Monaco was an amazing time.

Is this sunset even real? (Spoiler: yes)

The seaside of Monaco

Large city; small country

The newfound friends I went exploring with

It's a good thing you can't see my sunburns

I still can't believe actual people live here

My last two days I just spent laying on the beach in Nice.  The sun was shining, the temperature was perfect, and I never wanted to leave, but alas, all good things must come to an end.  Saturday night, after my final beach day, I packed up and left my hostel and boarded the train back to Paris, much more relaxed and much more sunburned than two weeks prior.

Katrina

Strep Throat in Cinque Terre

I am in love with the European health care system.

Over spring break, I travelled from Nice to Genoa to Cinque Terre and back to Nice.  Somewhere in the Nice-Genoa-Cinque Terre leg of the trip, however, I encountered a bacteria that decided it was going to latch onto my throat and not let go for dear life.  Yes, dear readers, I woke up in my lovely hotel in the first day of my visit to the Cinque Terre with no energy and a sharp pain in my throat.  Cut to the following day, when I couldn't swallow for fear of tiny knives appearing in my saliva to cut up my throat, and I decided that something had to be done.

Unable to figure out how to find a doctor in the tiny village of Monterosso al Mare without speaking a word of Italian, I went down to reception and asked the woman at the desk if she would call a doctor for me.  I must have looked pretty pathetic, because she assured me everything would be taken care of, and I was sent back up to my room with a pot of tea, some cold cuts of ham, and some crackers.  An hour later, there was a knock on my door.

In walks an old man with wispy grey hair, a polished walking stick, and a well-used leather bag.  He was the epitome of the Italian doctors you would expect to see in movies in the 1940s, yet somehow he had just appeared in my hotel room.  I did my best to explain the problem in as few words as possible, still not able to do much with my throat.  The doctor then told me that most places in Italy, they don't do strep tests because the small towns don't have the technology.  Instead, he grabbed his light and peered down my throat, made some vague, non-committal noises, and then informed me that I should start antibiotics right away.

I went down to reception with the doctor and was immediately informed by the hotel staff that they would be sending someone to pick up my prescriptions for me, because the kindness of strangers is endless.  I did my best to thank everyone profusely while still not being able to speak, got some more tea, and went back upstairs to await the antibiotics.

Over the next few days, my throat slowly recovered, and I managed to get out and spend my last day in Cinque Terre exploring the villages.  That's for another post, though; today, I want to end by saying that thanks to European health care, I paid a total of 52 euros for both the doctor visit and all the antibiotics I was prescribed.  Europe doesn't leave you out to dry if you're sick in one of its countries.  Not only that, but the kindness I experienced at my hotel in Cinque Terre truly gave me a sense of the kindness of strangers; when you're in dire straights, there will always be someone there to help you out.

Katrina

The Start of Spring Break

I've been in Nice for seven hours now, and I am already feeling the spring break relaxation setting in.  I took a long TGV ride from Paris to Nice-- just under six hours-- which left a bit before nine in the morning, meaning it was an early start for me.  I managed to sleep on the train for a while, though (I say "managed"; it was impossible to keep my eyes open), so I was wide awake when I stepped off the train into beautiful, sunny, seventy degree weather.  Sidenote: no pictures for today, I just wanted to wander and take everything in for myself before getting the camera out.

After figuring everything out at the hostel I'm staying at for the next three nights, I headed out to the beach.  There were a few rows of beach chairs, I found a free one, and laid there for about an hour and a half, soaking in the sun and the ocean breeze.  It feels very nice to not have anything to do for a while-- nothing looming over me that I have to work on, just some books on my Kindle I've been meaning to read.  After a sufficient amount of sun, I wandered down to Vieux Nice-- the Old City.

Vieux Nice is one of the best places to wander.  The streets are mostly blocked off to cars and are all cobblestones, lined with restaurants, cafes, and antique shops, not to mention the amount of ice cream to be found.  I decided to treat myself-- what is vacation without five o'clock ice cream, anyway?-- and sat and listened to one of the street musicians while eating Swiss chocolate ice cream.  Yes, it was delicious.

After wandering for a good while through the labyrinth of Vieux Nice, I decided to attempt to make my way back to the main square, where I could reorient myself.  It took much longer than anticipated, though I didn't have anywhere to be, so I just grabbed a kabab and fries from one of the stands and ate dinner on the beach.  When the sun finally started to fade, I headed back to the hostel, where I now sit, writing this post.  I am very tired, even though I didn't do much today-- travel always takes it out of me, despite the fact that all I do is sleep en route.

Tomorrow, more beach time and probably more wandering through Vieux Nice-- this time with my camera!

Katrina

Springtime (Finally)

I'm sitting next to my open window as I write this, with the sun beating down on me and the fresh air blowing into my room.  I'm done with midterms and the essays that come along with them, so most of what I'm working on currently is just a lot of reading (side note: Dante faints a lot in his Inferno).  My mom, sister, and sister's friend are coming to visit Tuesday, so I'm doing my best to get ahead of the work curve for the next week.  We'll see how well that works.

Springtime is Paris seems to so far be characterized by the sun finally returning and 50 degree (Fahrenheit) weather, which I am on board with.  I went on a few runs this weekend, and I wanted to stop and lay down to soak in the sun to make up for all the grey, rainy days throughout winter.  I can finally read outside at cafes and start walking more without fear of freezing my face off.

It's also kind of strange, though.  Around this time every year, it's spring break, and my family generally flies out to Colorado for some spring skiing and family time.  Here, though, my spring break doesn't come until the last two weeks in April (yes, I do realize how late that is, no need to tell me), meaning while everyone is off at the beach-- or the mountains-- I'm still stuck in school, and I've really started to miss my Rocky Mountains.

Still, it's impossible to be sad for too long with the sun still outside and the breeze no longer blowing cold rain into my face.  Springtime is finally here, and I do not plan to waste it inside my tiny apartment.

Katrina