Within minutes of arriving at miniscule Eze's bus stop, I realized the reason my Australian friends had been in such a hurry to push on to Monaco -- the buses out of town were quite irregular, and it looked like I had an hour and a half to kill before the next one would come my way. So, I opted instead to walk the 6.5 km to Monaco. At least this way, I'd get an extra dose of scenery with photo stops wherever I wanted them along the way :)
Halfway down the road, a kind stranger heading the same direction offered me a lift. Realizing the afternoon was catching up to me, I accepted, and within minutes, I was in Monaco, trying to navigate myself around this perfect little microcosmic principality with gardens manicured to highest standards and a gleaming palace set high above the shore on a table of rock. Everywhere, flashy, expesive cars sped down litter-free streets. And tourists stood out like a sore thumb amongst the well-dressed locals. Yes, Monaco.
I walked through glorious gardens, peered down over the busy port, breezed past the guarded palace. Although incredibly beautiful, Monaco seemed a shallow substitute for the Mediterranean charm I was seeking, and I moved on.After boarding the next bus for Menton (yet a bit futher east, towards Italy), I took a seat next to an older gentleman from... you guessed it, Italy. After a few minutes of friendly chatter in broken Italian and English, he invited me to a night of fine dinner and gambling in the famous Monte Carlo casinos. I might have been tempted, had he not been old enough to be my grandfather! Dirty old man! Since when did 70-year-olds start hitting on women less than half their age?!
Menton was a breath of fresh air. I wandered around, enjoying panoramic views of the sea from behind palm- and flower-garden-laden promenades. I lingered on the sandy shore and watched a few local fishermen enjoying a late-afternoon hunt. I meandered trhough the market, past a castle, around the cathedral that capped the town.
And then I headed back to Nice, just in time to see the beautifully warm, soft light of early evening filter through the clouds and cast an angelic glow on the small fishing town of Villefranch and its neighbor, the small peninsula jutting southward, St. Jean Cap-Ferrat. I was tempted to stop and wander some more, but my legs screamed, 'Enough!!' and I was obliged to comply.
~Melanie
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