The French/French Canadians don't shave their legs

Trip Start Jun 22, 2009
Trip End Jul 20, 2009

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Flag of France  , Provence,
Saturday, July 4, 2009

To update on the last blog entry, we made it to Nice. Our train was late and we had a long journey on a hot train with a naked baby running around begging for money, but we finally got there. Our hostel was very cozy, with a six bed dorm and two showers for the whole hostel. And of course, upon exploring the hostel, I walked in on a girl showering. It was her own fault, she should have locked the door.

So we got to Nice and decided to eat pizza for dinner. We found a very authentic place, where the waiters were also the cooks and the pizza was amazing. They forgot my order though, so everyone else's pizza came out fifteen minutes before mine. They were finished by the time I got started. The good thing was, I didn't eat for very long because European capers aren't like American capers. They're about twice the size and much more pungent. Needless to say, I didn't finish my 12 euro meal.

We slept and woke up the next day to go to the train station to figure out our reservations to go to Munich the next day. This reservation business is by far the most annoying thing about our trip. We have our Eurail pass, but that's not enough. We have to pay extra money for seats on the busy trains. But you already know this, I'm just repeating myself. We got to the train station at 8 a.m., because that's when some random guy told us the ticket office opened. However, he was wrong and the office didn't open until 9:30. We killed some time and ate breakfast and got Patrick, the hostel owner, to open the safe that Alastair messed up. We went back and realized, of course, that the train was full and that we'd have to pay extra for couchettes, as that was all that was available. It was amazing to have them, though. I'll explain that later.

So after that we went down to the water front in Nice to the flower and fruit/vegetable market. The amazing thing about markets in Europe is that they have the freshest, most delicious food at the best prices you can find. Wal Mart produce can't touch this stuff, I don't care how cheap it is. For lunch we had fresh out of the oven focaccia bread with tomato and mozzarella. So. Great. Then we got to watch the Tour de France come through Nice, because it started in Monaco. So we saw Lance Armstrong. How cool? Then we went back to the hostel, changed into our bathing suits and went to a beach that the hostel owner mistakenly told us was secluded.

It was called Villefrancia, and we had to take a short train ride to get there. Unfortunately, everyone else in Nice decided to do the same thing that day so we were at a small, though beautiful beach, with 500 other stinky French people. Some without tops on. Fat women. Who walked into videos. That's a keeper, I'll show you guys later. American web sites probably won't allow it though, because it has titties in it. Alastair's parents, you know what I mean. Anyway, the beach was gorgeous but inconvenient because of all of the people. We were able to dive off of rocks into the Mediterranean though, so that was very cool. Katie and I got sunburned, Meri didn't because we bought $25 sunscreen for her. We left the hostel, went back and showered, and got lost trying to find a place for dinner. Once we found what we were looking for, we realized it was a restaurant that served fried sardines, which we wanted no part in. So we left and, of course, had chinese food and/or kebab stand and/or McDonald's.

The train ride the next day was an absolute nightmare. Our train went from Nice to Milan to Verona to Munich, with 15 minutes to change trains in Milan and 8 hours to wait in Verona. F'ing French people don't know how to run anything on time though, so we waited 1.5 hours at the station in Nice before we finally left. If anyone has seen Euro Trip, they know the creepy train compartment with eight chairs facing each other that we rode in. Thing 'mi scusi.' So this creepy compartment was shared with one woman who decided to keep her big ass luggage in the aisle in front of her inconveniencing everyone. Once that train got to Milan late we had to talk to the ticket people to find out when we could catch the next train to Verona to catch our train at 1 a.m. Luckily, we got on a train without reservations and got to Verona with plenty of time to spare.

In Verona, thirty minutes before our train was due to arrive, the train station officials tell us our train will be three hours late. Three hours. What the hell makes a train three hours late? So we waited even longer, with no bathroom and no entertainment, for our train to finally arrive at 4:30 a.m. Ridiculous.

We got on the train and realized our couchettes were beds where we could stretch out and actually sleep for the short five hour journey to Munich. We slept amazingly, as we were extremely tired, and arrived in Munich at ten a.m.

More on Munich soon!
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