Hot! Resistance is Futile


After two weeks on the go, constantly moving with all my belongings in tow, the break in Finale was a great relief. I arrived in Nice on Thursday and had a very silent ride to the apartment with the concierge. I am on the far side of town up a long hill. The apartment rivals any of the loft living going up in Phoenix. It’s about 750 sqft – huge by European standards. The kitchen flows into the living area bookended by two balconies, one overlooking the sea, the other the forest. The pool seems Olympic sized and overlooks the Abbaye the complex is named after.

But loft living is loft living. Within a few hours I had met all my neighbors and we watch each others’ comings and goings from our balconies. They greet me every morning simply as “The American.”

It is a 10-minute trek down the hill to catch the bus into town. The bus drivers always seem to be out of multi-day passes and tell me to go to the agency. True to most of Europe, the agencies are difficult to find and always closed. Given that each ride is about $1.50 and it is a 20-minute hike back up to the apartment, I usually make one trip out and plan it carefully.

After a couple of days, I think I’ve figured Nice out. It’s not about seeing as much as you can. It’s about sitting by the pool. Or sitting by the beach. Or sitting in a café. Exercise? It’s called shopping.

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