Aix en Provence and the French Riviera

So now we were deep in the South of France, beyond most of the flooding and road blocks and collapses. Time to head across to Nice for a bit of R&R and to meet up with Erin, but first there was some serious eating to be done….

Karen had read, and been told that Aix en Provence was a beautiful town, in the heart of the Provence region – filled with magnificent scenery, floral treats, some interesting scenery but most importantly some of the best pastries and cakes on the planet.

After doing some research and speaking to some people in Saumur, we headed in to Aix en Provence to find a patisserie called Weibel who allegedly make the best almond croissants in the world…how do people know that? Is there an almond croissant fairy that directs people to different places and gets their opinion? Seriously man….

All of these little (and not so little) towns have fantastic parking facilities. Now, the sign posting to get you to them is not so hot, but for about $AUD7-10 for an entire day, you can get secure underground parking very close to the centre of town, or Centre Ville as they are called. Speaking of sign posting in France in general, someone should have a word with the almond croissant fairy and ask them to sort their stuff out with signs! They are horrid – generally they just don’t exist.

Anyway…..Weibel – the worlds best almond croissant place. After a quick wander about the lovely town of Aix, with a funky Marche (open air market place) in the main drag we found ourselves in the middle of the daily food market; cheeses, salamis, breads, fruits, veges….magnificent. And right on the corner is the shop that should be known as the “garden of Weibel” – but instead of apples, we found some pretty outrageous looking pastries. Talk about temptation….

Now, we don’t profess to have tasted every almond croissant in the world to make an adjudication but holy guacamole! These mofos were the real deal. Karen had the holy grail, while I went left field and tested the almond pain au chocolat. Amaze balls.

So, job done, we were able to leave Aix en Provence sated and now safe in the knowledge that we are part of a small group that can now comment on the rightful place of Weibel as the greatest patisserie in the world…

We took the short drive across to Nice and found our home for the next five days. A lovely private villa/apartment in a security compound near the university in a residential area. It’s owned by a Pom and his missus, who by pure coincidence live and work not far from Erin in London. It was perfect for what we were after. Quiet, free secure parking, plenty of room to relax and furnished in all of its 1970s glory. Perfect.

It is about a five minute walk to the Boulevarde Des Anglais which runs along the beachfront, and a further 30 minutes walk to the Old Town but buses run frequently along the main drag and at €1.50 per trip is good value.

We walked down the road to the local supermarche and stocked up with some important supplies for the coming days especially knowing Erin was joining us soon; Cheese, bread, salamis, olives, chips, beer, wine, croissants and coffee. Perfect. As we left the market the skies opened and it pissed down. Serious rain. I was about to call old mate Noah to get a ride back to the apartment. Ahhh – it’s only water so off we went up the hill. Drowned like rats. Welcome to Nice – capital of the sunny Cote D’Azure.

Next morning was lovely and bright so we walked along the beach front and up to the station to catch the regular train service down the coast to Cannes via Antibes. Unfortunately the ongoing French strike action impacted with a few trains cancelled, so eventually after a delay, we decided we could only get to Cannes with Antibes missing out.

25 minutes on the train and we were walking the streets of the celebrities. I got sick and tired of stopping to sign autographs. Cannes is exactly how I imagined it – slick, clean, full on and rich. We got to the water front fairly quickly and found the promenade and marina where there is a “Walk of Fame” around the cinema and performance hall of celebration.

Let’s talk about yachts. Lots of em and big buggers too. It’s actually a very very pretty harbour. At the northern end up high, there is an old town with a castle settlement from which the view of the town is just superb. We wandered back down to the marina, found a great pub and sat for some cleansing refreshments and a spot of people watching. Two beers and two Pimms = €38 (approx $AUD60). It’s Cannes ! And it was worth every cent.

Train back to Nice and a leisurely walk back to the apartment and a relatively early night.

Saturday saw Erin’s long awaited arrival which was special. We picked her up at the airport and it was great to see her come through the arrivals gate. The last year has flown by so quickly, but it’s not until we start chatting that we realise how much we’ve missed out on in each other’s lives.

So now she’s our travel partner in crime for the next couple of weeks. We went for a drive straight up into the hills surrounding Nice to a simply magnificent village called Saint Paul du Vence. No words describe it. Lovely lunch and back to the the Old Town for beers and a feed.

What we didn’t cater for was Europe 2016, where every pissed wreck from every European country had converged on Nice – obviously for its party allure, as well as the fact that Northern Ireland were playing Poland here on Sunday.

I have NEVER seen so many blind drunk humans in one spot in my whole life. Never. The night before had seen horrible rioting in Marseilles over football. Really? Anyway, when we arrived in the Old Town things seemed to be in good spirits, with groups of Irish, English, French, Polish all mixing and having a great time. They had taken over the main avenue and the place was a mess – but they were having a good time. We headed to a quiet spot to have dinner and a few beers of our own which was great. On our way back we entered Armageddon – in the space of a couple of hours the place was a heaving mess, and rioting had broken out. The Gendarmerie brought in the riot squad and we bid a hasty exit and got away from the trouble luckily. It was a bit scary to be honest for a few minutes.

Next morning we jumped n the car early and headed down the cast to the beautiful St Tropez. Took about an hour and a half but amazing scenery all the way. We wandered about the marina and old town, then went on a harbour cruise which was great. Beautiful people, beautiful boats, beautiful views. Love it.

People had told us about the lovely beaches just a little distance from the main port. The town is called Reumatuelle and the beach area is called Pamplonna. Wow. Side by side along the pristine waterfront of this SANDY beach stand a bunch of “Clubs” and restaurants.

We found one called “Le Snack” and settled in for the afternoon, eating and drinking and soaking in the sun and the beautiful view of the ocean and boats pulling in and out. I went for a swim but when I realised the water was just above freezing point, I chickened out and retreated for a frosty ale instead. Great day out.

Next day was another train trip to the outrageous Principality of Monaco, and. The train from Nice costs €3 (AUD$4.50) and it takes about 25 minutes, dropping you off right on the finishing line of the Monaco Grand Prix track.

What a place. Seriously beautiful people, boats, money. It’s gorgeous and everything I ever read about is true.

We took a ride around town on a Hop on hop off bus which actually drives the entire race course. How do those blokes do it at over 300kms/hr? It’s steep up hill, hair pin bends, tunnel, and in most places just barely wide enough for two cars side by side. Impressive.

We checked out the historic Monte Carlo Casino and it too, is an amazing bit of architecture. Headed up to the cliff top where the Princes Palace sits with commanding views of the million dollar yachts moored in the marina. We loved this place.

Train back to Nice and into the Old Town to a much tamer experience. Don’t get me wrong, the pissed idiots were still around, but in one spot this time, but the lack of rioting was a relief. We found a great bistrot with a jazz band playing outside so settled in for some well deserved beers and wines and some local delicacies.

I have been seeing this dish everywhere around and only just found out what it is… It’s called Moules et frites. Basically a freaking flozwhopper of a bowl FILLED to the brim with fresh mussels in their shells, slow cooked in garlic, olive oil and local white wine. Served with the best hot chips (frites) in the world. I kid you not, there was over a kilo of these little delicacies and we struggled through the lot of them. Erin had another local dish called Croix Monsieur which is basically a toasted sandwich filled with jambon (local ham), and three different cheeses. The top has a layer of cheese as well and is browned under a grill. Sensational.

Great day out and a fantastic last night in Nice.

Next day we set out early to commence our road trip north, ending in Paris next Sunday. But first I wanted to treat the girls to something a bit different. The area we were about to drive through is the worlds capital for perfumes – growing the flowers and manufacturing the product. The main town this occurs in is called Grasse.

So, I found a really old, traditional parfumerie (there’s another ‘erie for you) called Galimard. Owned by the same family for a few hundred years and taking its ingredients from the local fields. I booked us in for a perfume making course where you pick your own scents (noses) and after two hours – voila ! You have your own personalised scent to take home with you. I even did it! That’s the feminine side of me coming out.

It was a crack up. Finding the place was interesting to begin with, then we realised the only other two people in the workshop that day with us were from Paddington, Sydney! You get your own little booth with hundreds of tiny bottles surrounding you, making you feel like a nutty professor. Then the expert “nose” comes to explain the process. He studies for three years chemistry, and another two,years of perfume science to do this. His name was Maxime and was one of the more serious blokes around……until….

In the end, you have to choose a total of 15 scents in three stages and old mate figures out how much of each to put into the concoction. His suggestions were generally on the money. Then the hardest bit – you have to name your creation and they label it and put it in a bottle for you to keep 100ml. Your creation is registered and you can rider more online if you want. A great mornings entertainment.