Last Day in France

Day 14, September 12, 2008.

We're winding down here. Today was a whirlwind day. As we left Avignon to head southeast to Nice, Robin, who never heard of a fortress that he didn't love, decided that we couldn't leave the area without seeing the Pont de Gard, which is a 45-minute drive from Avignon going the opposite direction. We did that and saw a triple decker structure across the Gardon that was quite impressive.

We knew we had to get the car to Hertz at La Gare in Nice by 4, so we got on the toll road to the tune of over $20—this makes the Pennsylvania Turnpike look like a real deal! We passed Arles, Aix en Provence, and Cannes and were surprised by all the mountains—tall, impressive mountains on both sides and in front of us. In Cannes there didn't seem to be a spare inch of earth—huge high rises all over and up and down the hills. Nice is breathtaking—sitting right here on the Mediterranean.

Of course, we didn't get here by 4. We intended to find our hotel first, unload our bags, and then take the car to Hertz. Traffic was impossible and we rode around in circles for a while before finding another Mercure Hotel on a little side street. He pulled the car up on the sidewalk (again!) and we quickly unloaded; Robin left me in the lobby with all of our stuff and he headed for La Gare. By the way, Robin asked two female cops where Hertz was located and they laughed at him—they pronounce it “ertz.”

Two hours later he returned—he had to find the place, then deal with the paperwork, then walk back about 20 blocks and he got lost. I'm sure he stopped on the way to take lots of pictures. After all that, we ended up having to pay for another day of rental. Oh, well. I didn't sit in the lobby all that time—eventually I checked in and made two trips to our room with our bags. When Robin returned, he was happy he wouldn't have to deal with looking for parking spots in French cities anymore. Incidentally, he's done a great job of driving on these French roads where people seldom use turn signals and motorcycles twist around cars and people walk out in the street without even thinking. It's not the speed so much as what's accepted driving style.

Tonight we sat in the moonlight at a little bistro right across the street from the Mediterranean Sea and had dinner. It was very pleasant and we didn't have to eat French food!! I had spaghetti bolognese—we're just down the road from Italy. Robin had mussels and his last espresso. Afterwards we roamed around the streets of Nice—shop after shop, brasseries, bistros, street musicians—a very lively scene. We just went out one more time to go to the beach, and people are still out strolling, eating, drinking, etc. The moon on the water is so iridescent. The Mediterranean seems deeper to me—thicker and denser—than the Atlantic or Pacific. This was my first experience here along this coast, and I'm glad we're here.

Tomorrow at 6:30 a.m. someone is picking us up to take us to the airport. We should eventually get in late on Saturday night after a four-hour layover in Chicago. At least I can buy a book to read in English!

One thing we discovered is that the cost of gas wasn't what we expected. We thought we'd spend a thousand dollars on gas; we probably spent about $250—on 2,431 kilometers (1,507 miles). It's about $1.45/liter (a little more than a quart).

This has been quite a trip. We have become so much better acquainted with another place, another way of life. It has fulfilled a dream that I've been carrying around for many years and Robin, too, had the time of his life. Of everything we've seen and done, Mont St. Michel tops the list. I didn't need more than one day there—I just needed to be there, to see and experience it, and to keep it with me forever.

If we could change anything, it would be having to deal with hotels in large towns—I would have chosen to stay in smaller areas where parking and traffic were not such problems. Then, of course, we would have missed so much.

Keeping this blog was a good discipline—it made us remember things and write them down. Natalie, one of my coworkers, gave me a travel journal before we left. That has been so handy for keeping notes and writing down my feelings. We really appreciate that Kerry suggested we do a blog in the first place—something I'd never even considered. She set it up for us and helped us early on with some posting. What a good record we'll have of our trip! Vive la France!