Eze On Down The Road
It was a relaxing start to the day today with baguettes on the terrace for breakfast and Ross and Maisy popping down to the beach, beating the crowds for an early morning dip. We haven’t really used the car much while we’ve been in Nice. Parking styles are pretty radical here; some cars just mount the footpath if there’s nothing on the street. One car we saw was plonked on a pedestrian crossing. It’s a town made for Smartcars and little convertibles so if you’re Mr Bean, you’ll be in parking heaven. Our big family truckster, on the other hand, hasn’t a hope of finding accommodation anywhere on any street so she’s been tucked up safe and sound for a couple of days in the parking station across the road while we’ve relied on our feet to get us around.
Today we planned to go abroad – leaving France and travelling to the exciting principality of Monaco – with a side trip to the hilltop town of Eze. Both destinations were accessible by train (for the bargain price of €2.50) and I thought it would be an easier and less stressful option than driving. I’ve seen footage of zippy little sports cars flying around those winding cliffside roads leading to Monaco, coming perilously close to the edge and having to hold their breath should they meet a car coming the other way. It looked terrifying. It would also be hard to berth the truckster, we’d get stuck in peak hour traffic…
Ross thought we’d have more freedom with the car, not having to do as much planning, having somewhere to stash all our stuff….
And so the great Car vs Train Debate began. My side was destined to fail from the start, seriously lacking in numbers and though I did my best to state my case, in the end the boys’ argument was too strong and I caved under pressure. We took the car.
Sam was chief navigator as we set off on our adventure. We’d barely gone around the block when Ross realised he’d forgotten to pack his swimming gear. I suggested that, at a pinch, he could just swim in the shorts he was wearing. Looking down at his denim shorts, he said, “I know what WILL pinch if I try that!” Needless to say, we had to pop back and get his boardies.
Our first destination was Eze, recommended to us by lots of friends, we felt compelled to check it out. With Nice firmly in the rear view mirror, we snaked up in altitude and were confronted with the most spectacular views! It was like the Bilgola Bends on steroids. Around every bend was an ocean view. We pulled over at a lookout and stood, open-mouthed as we gazed at the panorama before us. We could see all the way back to Nice and the coastline north and south stretched out below. It really was incredible.
Approaching Eze, we drove through a tunnel cut through the rock that led us across an extremely high level stone arch bridge stretching the breadth of the very deep canyon below. It was stunning! The roads weren’t as bad as I’d thought though they were a little tight in some spots. At one stage Sam said, “Ooh Dad, we’re a bit close to the edge on my side” and Ross answered, “Yeah, we’re a bit close on my side too!” Yikes! I just closed my eyes…
Eze itself, a medieval village, perched right on top of a mountain, dating back centuries, was a gorgeous little town with lots of greenery and gardens dotted throughout its stone buildings and steep staircases. The old buildings and narrow streets were very well restored, with high stone walls and narrow roadways of red-brick centered stone; the stone pathways slippery in places from being so worn. Climbing each set of stairs, you emerged through ivy-covered archways, to shady little squares, housing a mix of cafes and fine dining restaurants. There were bars set into rocks with outdoor seating and people out in the sun, enjoying the weather, the view and the atmosphere. Gift shops, boutiques and galleries were nestled into rocks with pots of brightly coloured geraniums at their doorways. The narrow roads wound their way upward to the pièce de résistance; the ruins of a 12th century fortified castle. There was also an extremely impressive cactus garden and at the top, completely uninterrupted views of the Mediterranean Sea. Wow! Patches of the sea were such a bright blue you could almost see the bottom! Little boats bobbed in little coves below. There was a small fee to enter the castle ruins but the beautiful, dramatic views at the top made it well worth it the cost.
Speaking of fees, we had to ‘spend a penny’ at the toilet block in town. With his €0.50 clutched in his sweaty fist, Ross happened to walk in while there was no one manning the desk. Just as he’d thought he’d got away with not having to give up his tightly held coin, the vigilant toilet guard came out with an ‘Oi!’ thrusting out her hand as she snapped her rubber gloves off, he had to cough up. She wasn’t letting him get away with a thing. I must say, they were the cleanest toilets I’ve ever seen in my life. I reckon you could’ve eaten your dinner off the floor, polished to a high gloss, within an inch of its life.
After a delicious lunch under a fully-laden grapevine, we hit the road again; destination: Monaco. Sam did a stellar job of navigating and Ross of driving, the winding road to this new country. On a side note, stopping at pedestrian crossings in Nice seems to be optional but usually ignored. You could never venture out in front of an oncoming car with the hope they’d see you on the zebra stripes and put the brakes on. On the contrary, they’d probably speed up and try to bowl you over. Ross politely stops for pedestrians at every crossing and his chivalrous act is met at first with astonishment and then with heartfelt thanks. They look so grateful they could kiss him!
We’d packed our passports in preparation for crossing the border into Monaco but just like before, there was no checkpoint or passport stamper in sight as we entered the tunnel with a cheer. Welcome to Monte Carlo!! The distance across this teeny weeny country is only 3.88km! Ross and Sam had high hopes of running across it, border to border but those plans were thwarted by the fact that we could not find a parking spot ANYWHERE! We followed directions to Monte Carlo Beach and within 10 minutes of entering Monaco we’d popped out the other side and were back in France. Just like that. Central Park in New York is actually bigger than this country that if you blink you will miss. That’s just what Toby did! He nodded off just as we were unceremoniously crossing the border and woke up ten minutes later to find he’d completely missed it. We had to do a victory lap so he could say he’d seen it. It was a fleeting visit. Humming “Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous” under our breath, we did spy the race track, lots of designer shops, the whopping big casino and some awfully big boats in the port. It was bustling with mopeds (easier to park!) and Italian sports cars, much to the boys’ delight. We couldn’t even find a spot to pull over and take photos so had to pull off a drive-by ‘shooting’. We’d been hoping to have a cuppa and a Monte Carlo bikkie to mark the occasion. Oh well. At least we can say we’ve seen it.
Our lunch waitress had enlightened us about the available routes from Nice to Monaco. There are 3 levels of roadway – one up the top of the mountain, with breathtaking views but nail biting turns; one in the middle, the one we had chosen to get us there; and one road down by the sea. Opting to make our way back along the picturesque lower coast road, we stopped in for a swim at Eze Sur Mer (particularly nice in the sur mer months). It was a gorgeous little pebbly beach at the foot of the mountain. There was a smattering of tourists lining the shore, one semi-clad couple up the far end getting particularly amorous. I was relieved there was a woman standing directly in line with the hot and heavy couple, blocking Maisy’s view like a strategically placed bowl of fruit in a centrefold. The water at this beach was the clearest water we’ve swum in yet. Glancing down you could see clearly all the way to the depths below. Maisy swam through a whole school of fish, giving her a big buzz. Looking back at the coast from the water was spectacular. A backdrop of mountains, trees and the town of Eze on high. The elevated train rattled past too. It was pretty awesome. We amused the English tourists next to us by having a stone skimming competition. Ross and Sam were neck and neck. I was completely hopeless.
Driving back into Nice, Ross wanted to show us a restaurant he’d spied on his early morning run. Built on top of neighbouring rocks jutting vertically out of the sea, the sections of the restaurant were connected to one another by wooden walkways with a bar spanning them both below. It was striking! We enquired about a booking for later tonight but they said they were fully booked but we were welcome to have a drink in the bar below. Having come straight off the beach in our thongs and boardies (Toby was still in his rashie) we hardly looked the part. Frenchmen and women dressed immaculately in designer threads, diamonds and fancy footwear filled the comfy seats of the seaside bar. What could we do? It was now or never. Getting the occasional sideways glance, we held our heads high and descended the stairs. Sipping mocktails and cocktails, watching the ships come in in this incredible environment was surreal. It was such an amazing spot!
Well we farewell Nice tomorrow and it has been Nice, not to mention Eze on the eye!
