The summer before my freshman year in college, I had a job in a shop on the boardwalk selling sun cream and novelty t-shirts and goofy hats. Continue reading
Yes, there is a story behind this video. Get ready.
OK, I know I just said that I prefer trains when traveling between France and Italy. But I did take a low-cost flight from Rome to Nice on easyJet in December, and as blessed with a stunning view of the Alps, the French Riviera, and Nice during our descent. So make sure your seats are in the upright position, fasten your seat belts and prepare for some of my favorite pictures from last year.
My father is the original foodie. He’s not the most verbose man on the planet – I’ve always maintained that he says five things a day, and they’re all hilarious – but he lives to eat, and doesn’t mind telling you all about it. Whether it’s the crappy excuse for a hoagie he had in New Mexico in 1981, his much-adored pescatore recipe or the latest “chow-down” with my parents’ friends, he can recall almost every meal he’s ever had with an impressive clarity and describes them with sometimes overwhelming passion.
In fact, sometimes he’ll call me simply to talk about food. I’ll know food is going to be the topic, because he starts with my name instead of “Principessa,” which is how he starts when he’s just calling to chat.
I got slammed with work again and since no one’s paying me $400 to write my pithy missives here (yet?), I need to go back to the dark side and finish up this assignment. However! I made a vow to keep posting regardless of my work load, and that is what I shall do. So while you’re holding for the next installment, which I promise you is a doozy, please enjoy these photos from the time I spent pet sitting in Eastern France this winter! And by winter, I mean I wore layers of heavy clothing and the owner’s rag wool socks and made a roaring fire every single day.
Kensington Tours generously arranged this daylong tour, but all opinions are my own.
As anyone who’s asked me for travel advice knows, I’m not a big fan of tours. Large group tours are useless; it’s hard to pay attention, usually you don’t get to see the thing the tour guide is talking about until after they’re done talking about it, and also it’s mortifying to be herded around like sheep. And although none of these things were an issue on a very small tour I took of the Vatican a few years ago, for example, we were required to practically jog the entire museum complex – twice – in order to get through everything before the REALLY big crowds showed up. I was exhausted. And when I’ve spoken to other people who’ve done small tours, the majority unfortunately have had the same experience.
But seeing as how three of the four of us had never been to the French Riviera before, and that Kensington’s proposed itinerary featured places I’d never been to either, I decided that this would be a good way to get as much in as possible – for work and for pleasure. And so it was that on a warm and sunny morning in Nice, we found ourselves walking with Pierre, our driver and guide for the day, to our comfortable, roomy, air-conditioned minivan for an adventure.