Nice: Histoire n'importe quoi...Round 2

So I was going to do the second part with descriptions of where I was etc… but in an effort not to bore anyone to tears, I’ll keep the urban geography jargon to myself.

The third day in Nice, the plan was to go with some of the people in the hostel to drop of their bags at a friend’s place before hopping a bus to Cannes to pass the day there. Since I had no set agenda, I offered to give them a hand with hauling their luggage before heading over to the bus station.

Arriving at the apartment, we had just hauled all the bags inside when the girl living there (I realized I probably shouldn’t use names too much in this) opened her door to let us in.

SLAM. “oh shit… uh guys?” The “slam” followed by the “oh shit” in relation to doors is never a good thing; she had been locked out of the apartment without shoes and pretty hungover as the night prior she was doing shots of vodka that filled up half a full size water glass.

So there we were, bags in the lobby of this apartment building, with a very much hungover and shoeless Australian, sitting around, thinking of a plan of action. After trying to first hunt down the concierge or someone in charge of the apartment by asking residents who were coming and going, two of us set off to get a the spare set of keys in a real estate office across the city. We got there just on time… rang the buzzer… AND…

No response. Office hours were 9-12 on Saturday, but there was no one there. Shit.

Back to the building where the other two were waiting…we needed to figure out something to do, as this girl’s roommate had stayed at another friends house because she, well, partook enthusiastically in drinking the night before. Here we were, with a shoeless and hungover Australian girl locked out of her apartment, with no cell phone to be had between the four of us, a real estate office that had the spare set of keys that was closed, and no one else to contact.

The best idea at that point…go the beach.

Now, keep in mind, the randomness of all this, as I had only met most of these people two days prior and could’ve easily just left and gone to Cannes, leaving them with luggage at the beach, but I stayed… it was totally worth it.

Had I been in this situation of locking myself out of the apartment with the possibility of being essentially homeless until the office with my spare keys reopened two days later, I would’ve been flipping a shit… but to her credit and perhaps given the fact that she was already hungover to begin with.. this girl just didn’t care! It was GREAT.

We sat at the beach taking in the sun for a few hours, doing absolutely nothing, without a care in the world. All four of us, kind of shocked by how this day was turning out, couldn’t do anything but relax at the beach; it was unbelievable. The sun, the warmth, the water, how COULD you care about anything but being happy?

At 3:00, after getting some food (prosciutto, cheese, bread and oranges...toute à la française bien sûr) to eat at the beach, the other two guys had to move in to their respective houses, as they were only going to be temporarily leaving their stuff at the Australian’s apartment. The three of us who were left after parting paths, made our way towards Vielle Nice where the other guy from the hostel, had found cheaper, temporary (and maybe now permanent) lodging at a bar run by a Canadian the night before. After talking to the waitress about his situation the night before, she referred him to this “really cool guy” who was renting a room in his flat at least for a short period of time, but maybe as long as my friend would be staying in Nice.

First, the guy. An American turned British/ Euro bohemian musician who could be best described a cross between Austin Powers, Don Juan, and I don’t know, you pick some mystic and wise figure from your life and insert them here… probably in his 40s but definitely still a… swinger…for sure. Then the apartment, the top floor of a building right in the old city with a huge balcony and terrace with panoramic views of the city, the water, the mountains and the Château… What the hell was I doing here?

We sat down over tea as my friend moved his bags into his new temporary lodging and just talked. What came up in conversation and what I remember most vividly was how the American turned British/Euro bohemian musician who smacked of Austin Powers and Don Juan was how he described himself as a “really slow backpacker”. He had traveled everywhere, spoke a lot of languages, maybe had gotten with a Brazilian amongst a plethora of women of different nationalities…. Was this a moment or what?

I can’t make all of this up, you have to believe me.

We left shortly after to hunt down the roommate of the girl who had locked herself out her apartment by starting where she was last night. No one was home but we had managed to get into the building by ringing a number of buzzers. Now, there had been a party that had..umm… received some complaints from the neighbors which we had all attended the night before. As we were leaving a not at the door, a tenant came down and proceeded to chew us up in French. Even though I tried to explain it wasn’t us, she insisted that the next time she would call the cops. Oh well, her tirade was lost on us for sure. Whatever.

Ok, back to the apartment of the girl who was locked out to try the concierge again. It was around 6 and this time, sure enough we had some success. After awkwardly trying to explain what had happened in French as I could speak it the most, we coerced him out to help us. Sure enough, seeing that this girls balcony window was open and that it was only on the 2nd floor, so not very high up, we had a plan. The concierge called up to this girls neighbor who’s balcony was somewhat attached to the balcony where the door was open, so needless to say, after a death defying stunt that received a couple of “ooo la la” from people watching on the street, we made it back in!

Her roommate, who we were worried about most of the day as she had no idea what was going on, was found later on and was fine as she had spent the most of the day with another person on this exchange. After all that happened, we STILL managed to make it out at that night to go to another party at another students place.

Great day? For sure. Random. You bet. Hopefully that'll give you a sense for what this WHOLE trip was like.