I know, countless puns have been spun (ooh, an anagram of puns!) out of Nice. I’m trying to say it in a sarcastic way, like how I’d say “Nice.” when someone dishes out shit to me.
And Nice has been just that. Shitty. Full of dog poo, but I’d been warned by the Nice wikitravel page. (See, another pun, but it was not intended. Let’s keep it this way. This is a pun-free post.) I don’t think I like Nice very much, but yet I don’t hate it, there’s a certain rustic and grotty charm to it, only marred by people and experiences that could’ve been different. For instance while waiting for the sunset yesterday I was picked up (unsuccessfully) by two different groups of guys. This is the only time that I’m glad that I don’t speak French, so that my rejections can be executed on the (false) basis that I don’t hang out with people that I can’t communicate with. I think I even got a proposal. “You. Me. Paris. Marriage?” (He slid an imaginary ring up his ring finger. I was like, “Non, non, non, non.”) They were all drunk. I had an irrational fear that they’d push me off the cliff after unsuccessful advances. Who knows what the French do in heartbreaking circumstances like these. Or maybe they were Moroccans.
On the streets while walking back to the hostel there was a car blasting music and as I passed it, someone yelled “NI HAO MA NI HAO MA NI HAO MA…” until I crossed the street. Then the traffic light turned green and they zoomed past me, yelling “NI HAO MA NIHAOMANIHAOMA” until I was out of earshot. I don’t know, is this racist? Should I be pissed off at some people who (correctly) guessed my ethnicity and tried to greet me in my native tongue? But are all Asians Chinese? Should I be glad that they didn’t say Konnichiwa instead? Or maybe I should have stopped the car and taught them “Apa khabar?”
When I got back into the dorm I found that there was already a girl in one of the beds, she didn’t feel like talking, so I left it at hi. Brushed up, got into bed, and then these 3 Korean girls came into the room. I smiled at them and settled down to sleep, which I did, for about half an hour. And then I was awakened by an incessant drone of Korean, punctuated by crunching on potato chips and girlish giggles, which would be very charming if… ok there’s no way to put this nicely. They were loud and annoying, and there were two sleeping girls in a very cramped dorm. After 15 minutes of deliberation I decided to take the matters into my hands, and told them that there’s a basement if they needed to chat. They looked at me blankly as if they didn’t understand English. And then a slow glimmer of understanding lit up in the dull windows into their soul, and they said sorry.
Which was fine.
But then during the night the girl who was sleeping on the bunk below me had messages coming in at various hours of the night. I remember waking up at 4am. I vaguely kept count and there were 5 times that the godforsaken Korean pop song ringtone rang, until I couldn’t take it anymore at 6:30am, the fifth time, and got up quite belligerently and hissed at the girl below me. “Excuse me, can you stop doing that?” She kept silent and did not apologize even.
Suffice to say, I am not in good terms with my roommates. I got out of bed at 7, after fuming so much that I couldn’t sleep, and came down to the basement. Typed half of a blog post till someone short-circuited the basement and killed my computer. Then I went back up, smiled at the only innocent girl in the room, and ignored the others pointedly. After getting my stuff together I made my way to the beach, where I spent a relaxing morning napping and reading on my Kindle, and then at a hilltop park where I spent a relaxing afternoon napping and reading on my Kindle. I’ve finished Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen, and the first book of the Chronicles of Narnia. I’ve talked to some French kids in English. (I think their teacher made them go around asking questions to strangers – I imparted my knowledge regarding the capital of Australia, the number of players on a basketball team, and the female star of Titanic. The age of Zidane the footballer I did not know.) I got my second marriage proposal on the streets.
All in all, the beaches of Nice were relaxing, the views gorgeous, but I can’t say that I’m reluctant to get out of here. So I’m going back to my dorm room to pack, so that I can leave first thing in the morning. Hello Amsterdam!



