Salad Nicoise and Dolceacqua -- Nice, France

Think like a man of action, act like a man of thought. 

~Henri Bergson
 
Baris leaves for work around eight every morning and doesn't get home until after seven, so weekends are the only large chunks of time we're able to spend together -- and Saturday morning is taken up with a four hour French class. So I showered, tidied up the kitchen, and went for a stroll around town while he slaved away at French conjugation.

And yes, I did rub this in. To which Baris responded, "Aimee, I 'ate you."

This might be the only French lavender I find. Nice is just so urban and the surrounding countryside is too mountainous for lavender fields.

Mushrooms in the morning market.

I like that these people are so intense about their mushrooms.

 Some pictures from Vieille Ville:

Violet flavored gelato?

Avocado gelato? Rosmary gelato? Black olive gelato? Qua?

Bit of Old Town street art

Menu of The Jesus restaurant. On Jesus street.

This is a stuffed pig. OHMYGOODNESS.

Baris and I met up in front of the reputedly best socca restaurant in Nice at around 13:15. However, being the best socca restaurant in Nice, it had an hour long wait list. So we gave up our socca dreams for the day and found a less touristic restaurant in Old Town that offered another dish on my food challenge list -- Salade Nicoise.

 I adore the flavor of salty anchovies mixed with sweet basil and sour tomatoes.

After lunch, we walked back to where Baris had parked Sophia and re-parked next to a few shops selling helmets, riding jackets, gloves, and other motorcycling accessories. Baris purchased a brown jacket with elbow pads, shoulder pads and a back pad that makes me look like a turtle along with a pair of tan leather gloves.

"We need to keep Aimee safe," he said seriously as he thumped the turtle shell.

I wore the new turtle shell jacket on our drive to Italy that evening. I felt very safe indeed.

The fellow at the motorcycle shop did his best to dissuade us from purchasing the tan gloves, as they (apparently) don't match the brown jacket. I find this amusing because the jacket has stitching on it that's exactly the color of the gloves.

I love Sophia but I loathe this helmet. Baris bought an x-small because the friend whom with he'll be riding the most has an x-small head. I do not have an x-small head, and this helmet has an enchanting habit of compressing my jaw and making my forehead go numb. We have to take breaks every thirty minutes or so to allow the feeling to flood back into my face. I sometimes do headstands on the side of the road to encourage blood flow to my head. I think I look great.

When I take off the helmet and complain that I've lost all sensation of my face, Baris puts his fingers to my forehead and asks me how many I can feel. As opposed to being drunk and asking how many I can see.

We arrived in the tiny Ligurian town of Dolceacqua as the sun was setting. It was idyllic, as so many parts of Italy seem to be. I'm starting to think that out of all the countries I've visited, Italy might suit my personality the best.

A captivating statue next to the restaurant where we ate dinner

 After walking around the city (it didn't take very long), we both ordered Ligurian style rabbit in a cheery Italian restaurant. And half a liter of wine, as I've found that drinking wine before donning that dreadful helmet makes losing sensation in my face a little less unpleasant. Neither of us knew what Ligurian style meant, but we thought it sounded authentic and worth a try. Turns out that Ligurian style means cooked in white wine, rosemary and olives -- this looks like a recipe to use at home: Ligurian Style Rabbit

It was late, late, late when we finally returned to the abandoned Sophia and headed back to France. It was cold, cold, cold as autumn has finally begun to settle on Southern France/Italy and the nights have taken a brisk turn. I lent Baris my sea foam smartwool shirt to wear around his neck like a scarf, and I sat close to him during the 75 minute ride back to Nice, letting my friend do all the hard work of blocking the chilly wind.

This is one of the bridges painted by Monet.

Preconceptions: Coffee! All the time. Usually in the form of espresso. If you're visiting Nice, get a cheap espresso in Cours Saleya and enjoy some interesting people watching at the market.

Challenges: Salade Nicoise!