Nice

 

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Unfortunately we barely took any photos in Nice. In Rome, we brought our camera everywhere, every single time we left the apartment. We took so many pictures. We walked miles upon miles upon miles snapping photos of every pretty/interesting/weird/mundane thing we saw. By the time we got to Nice we were sick of that stupid camera. Sadly, this means we have to rely on good old fashioned brain space to store the memories of our time there. Great.

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So, the things I want to remember about Nice for as long as I live are the bustling Marché aux Fleurs Cours Saleya where we bought figs, cheese, bread, and olives, which satisfied every French outdoor market fantasy I’ve ever had; my first bite of crispy socca, the chickpea flour crepe Nice is known for; the moment we realized I lost our house key among the millions of stones at the beach; the foie gras we ate on our first night in town — the best I’ve ever had; swimming in the warm sea; wandering the narrow cobblestone streets of the old town for hours; freaking out from claustrophobia every time we took the tiny, rickety elevator down to the ground floor of our apartment.

Nice is such a stunning town, with so much character, charm, and downright prettiness! I’d love to go back with a bit more energy, an empty memory card, and a lot of French language practice. Oui!

 

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