Moving Backward - Missed Nice

I realized that with all the excitement in Marseille I forgot to finish my entries for Nice. When I arrived in Nice I was not smitten with it but after three days I was in love with it. After my first day of wonderful doings, I woke on Monday and went to the health food store right around the corner from the Nice hostel, one of the French La Vie Claire stores, which had a large selection of gluten-free foods including palmiers, a favorite pastry of mine since childhood and one I was regretting not being able to eat while in France. Well I got my chance thanks to the Valpiform company and their sans-gluten mini palmiers. I also purchased bio sheep’s milk yogurt with chestnuts (delicious) .
I went in search of the Bio & Cie vegetarian and bio restaurant– see picture – and ate a large salad there for lunch later in the day. Bio & Cie is small with about 12 little tables, but was plenty busy.
I wandered through the antiques market and saw a few fun and wonderful things, but most were priced out of my range. See picture of Chantelle and notice lamp placement ☺
Then took a bus to the Chagall Museum – a MUST for any Chagall lover – and for that matter anyone. Breathtaking, huge paintings depicting scenes from the bible, as well as some of his earlier, smaller paintings are spread out through the airy and light museum dedicated to Chagall’s work. I would post the photographs that I was allowed to take, but web posting is not allowed so you will have go to Nice yourself to experience this glory.

After lunch I took a regional bus to Grasse – perfume center of the world. Grasse itself is not much to write home about. I did go to both the Molinard and Fragonard Perfume exhibits. Fragonard’s is extensive with an array of perfume artifacts dating back to ancient Egypt, the Orient, and Europe – worthwhile for any one interested in the history of scent and the origins of the perfume industry – which up until World War II was based on natural plants as the sources for perfumes.

My last day in Nice I found a larger health food store – Biocoop – another French chain of health food stores – located where the “real” people live. I bought a heart shaped mini wheel of bio sheep cheese “Coeur de Brebis Bio” to eat for lunch on the beach. On my way, I checked out the Marche de Puces – the second-hand market. This was my only real disappointment in Nice. It is in a makeshift covered building with a handful of stalls. Most of the vendors had been at the larger, outdoor antiques market on Monday – and these were not the vendors with the best stuff – to me it was overpriced and under-quality – no bargains to be had for sure.
My last hours in Nice were spent on the rocky Nice beach. The water was especially turquoise – see picture – and there were many beach worshippers enjoying the sun and water. I ate my French picnic and savored the moment. Then onto Marseille having no clue what was in store for me.

Marseille - There and Gone

Well I went to Marseille and left.
The metro and buses are clean. The Gare St Charles train station is virtually glistening. The city is huge - France's second largest - but without the charm of Paris. In its favor it has a very diverse population.
The hostel however, was gruesome - definitely not recommended. It is not in the city - it is a 10 minute metro ride to a 10 minute bus ride plus a short walk that seems long if you are toting any luggage. The cinder block structure is relatively clean, but very dark and grim. The group bathrooms leave something to be desired. The extremely competent, but overworked woman who works evenings was on duty by herself so everything took longer or required waiting thirty minutes. There is no wifi and the internet is cumbersome - it took a while for her to connect one of the two decrepit computers to the internet. She told me the owner wasn't interested in getting wifi (I think maybe he is just too cheap). She then designated me an id and password which was only for the one time use. You pay when you are finished, which was pretty quickly since typing was excruciating. I had to think way too hard and type so slowly since just about every letter is in a different place on the French keyboard.
The room was small, but adequate - enough beds for four, but only three of us. There was one young French woman and an older French woman with white hair - although she was probably my age. When I first arrived she was typing furiously, copying a hand written magnum opus that took her hours of particularly noisy keyboarding. When she was done with that - completed while I was on the internet - I returned to find the Apple blaring the worst English-language pop music. I don't know in what country or planet she found this selection but truly the most pathetic lyrics and bad bubble gum music I have ever heard. She thought it was wonderful. I don't know what the young French girl thought - she was reading and seemed to be ignoring everything. When I tuned in the computer was singing, “ Come to the Butterfly lounge… big girls you are beautiful, big girls you are beautiful, big girls you are….” get the idea?
I was so tired I could barely move from hauling my two back-packs all afternoon. I crawled into bed while she played the delightful music until about 10:30. I put my eye mask on and my arm over my face and practiced giving into the whole experience. She finally turned out the light - the young French girl had long ago put her arm over her head- and I thought we were good for the night.
Somebody had other ideas. Somewhere by my head a late night construction project started, or dance lessons, or a washing machine knocking against a wall - I will never know. The loud beating went on and on, then stopped and I thought ahhh, relief, only to have it start again. As if this weren't enough, the acoustics of the cinder block made the noise travel throughout the hostel, so even though its location was in a quiet suburb of Marseille, it was far noisier than the in-town Nice hostel (which was amazingly quiet in the bedrooms). There was hooting and hollering, loud footsteps, showers, and at some point a scream that sounded like a woman was being murdered (lovely) and then after a pause, laughter. Some joke.
As I am working on diving into the full experience, bed number two with the other middle aged woman was harrumphing, heavy sighing, grunting and her noise actually woke me up more times than all the other as I was able to put my New Yorker skills to work for me - that is after contemplating three times whether I should get up and complain to the overworked girl at the desk. I thought better of this once I realized that all complaining would get me was out of bed and my horizontal position - there was nothing she was going to be able to do. The pounding, and did I mention constant water trickling noise and toilet flushing (I think we were right underneath the 2nd floor bathrooms) went on until the wee hours of the night and I dozed in and out for most of it except hearing the loud whispered complaints of my roommate. The night was short as at 6:30 or so the young French girl got up. She was quiet as these things go, but in the hostel rooms every noise is amplified- the crinkle of plastic, zippers and Velcro are all especially loud.
Having already made up my mind to vacate this morning, I got up, used the marginal facilities - the toilet I used had a make-shift flush mechanism - a large piece of wire to pull - and went to use the internet to line up my next accommodations. Well, the young man at the desk didn't know how to do that, could I come back later?....getting more frustrated by the minute…then another young man who can set up the internet (talk about unnecessary complicated systems) came along and wouldn't you know it - he didn't really know how to set up the internet. He pulled out a loose-leaf binder with the instructions - well then they asked me for my passport! To use their crummy computers for 5 minutes of internet time for a total of maybe 1 euro. I had left everything in my room to quickly email about accommodations. I just said, “No, forget it” - how hard can it be to write one email!
The Nice hostel was like the George V compared to this! They had free wifi if you had your own computer, and if not, an inexpensive and simple system to use their computers. Ah Merde!
I had already packed my bags, so was back out in a flash to check out (the hostels keep your hostel member card when you check in as some sort of security deposit). Well now they couldn't find my card. What was my name? What room had I been in? Was it a paper or plastic card? Can you say I-N-C-O-M-P-E-T-E-N-T? I was ready to run, not walk to the bus. I had no idea where I would sleep, but only knew it would not be there. I was not offered a refund on the rest of my stay and decided to not even ask as that might have taken the rest of the day to sort out. I figured I would email in the evening when at least the competent woman would be on duty.
Whew. Now the bus and metro into the train station. I put my heavy large pack into a storage locker - thank god they had them - and purchased a ticket to Avignon. The truth is I had only chosen Marseille as a base camp to explore Provence. I never had an interest in Marseille per se, but it was the only hostel open this time of year in the area. Once I realized how far from the train the hostel was, it made more sense for me to make my base in the heart of Provence - not to mention the above mentioned short-comings of the hostel.
With just under two hours before my train, I took the metro two stops to the Vieux Port - the old port. Here the fish market was just getting started - talk about fresh - fish never have smelled so good and the boats were pulled up behind the vendor stalls. Some of the fish were so fresh they were still jumping!
From here I went to the tourist information office and got myself a map, and walked up the main boulevard. I had hoped to find the Arab markets I had read about, but there was no activity this morning. I wandered through a few back streets, found the rue des Arts - full of small artists studios/ateliers then made my way back to the metro. At the train station I went out the upper entrance for a full view of the city - quite impressive, and felt that was all I needed of Marseille.
Now I am happy to report that I found a darling little stone Hotel du Parc on a backstreet in Avignon with a private room and double bed. The shared bath in the hallway is like the Taj compared to last night and I have a large window looking into a little garden. Needless to say I cried when I walked in - too perfect and squeaking by in terms of budget.
Avignon (one of the gates into the walled city in photo above) is a delight and I have spent the afternoon wandering the back streets and finding the natural restaurants and health food stores. I had a plentiful and delicious lunch at the Kafezen Bio mini café (16 rue Henri Fabre) - a large bowl of soup (almost too much to finish) and a large salad made with organic and vegetarian ingredients for 6 euros. Next I stumbled onto a crammed-full art store with the most darling French owners - we played charades about some pastel crayons in the window.
Next I found the beautiful Terre de Saveurs - a natural foods restaurant that I will try for lunch before I leave. I am now happily at a great little cyber café where I can use my own computer - relief.
Off to explore some more before I return to my sweet, sweet room. Au revoir for now.

Nice France and Palm Trees!

January 20, 2008
Nice France
“Wow” might sum it up. After sleeping fairly well on the top bunk in a cramped room with six other women in the downtown Nice Youth hostel, I woke up to a blue-sky day. I walked down the main drag, which is fairly grungy in my book with a "red light" district, MacDonalds (yes even here) and other chain stores all closed for Sunday. Thankfully, I arrived shortly at the glorious Mediterranean and the famous Palm tree-lined, Promenade Des Anglais – a 4 mile paved walkway along the beach and sea. The Promenade was fairly busy – really hate to imagine what it is like here in the summer – I highly recommend this time of year if you are thinking of exploring Nice. I walked down to the mostly stone beach and found a few gaggles of men and women, some of whom had taken their morning constitutional and been swimming in the turquoise sea.
A friend of mine told me that when she was here 30 years ago it smelled so horrid that there were ships off shore spraying perfume. Not so this time - no stink and no boat propelled perfume. Have just realized that the fabulous pictures I took were taken without a card in the camera – first and last time I make that mistake. I do have some with my little camera – but unfortunately not the wonderful older man and woman showering after their swims!
That’s what comes of getting flustered. This morning I was dealing with packing everything up on my top bunk and leaving my laptop at the desk – there are no lockers here except for something big enough for your passport, so if you come this way don’t bring anything valuable that is bigger than your wallet.
I sat on the beach for a while and drank in the melodious French language and laughter, the swimmers, the sailboats and the sun - not too hot – must have been around 55-60º. The swimmers got dressed and donned their coats – one was even wearing a beret – how perfect can you get?
I forced myself to get up as all I had at the hostel was some diluted orange juice. The free breakfasts are not gluten-free, in fact they are gluten-rich, so I was pretty hungry.
I crossed into the old city and to my joy walked right into the huge Sunday market at Place Pierre Gautier with wall to wall people and vendors.
The market was full of the most beautiful food I have ever seen – piles of sun-dried tomatoes, olives, cheeses, flowers, fruits and vegetables – as well as full of French people doing their Sunday shopping. I was able to find the Bio/Organic stands quickly and bought two handfuls of fresh mixed greens and a bunch of carrots. Another vendor sold me a little cake of goat cheese covered with herbs. Another still sold me the best sun-dried tomatoes soaked in herbs and garlic I have ever had – so divine – she said “for salade”, well I have been eating them straight all day, alternating them with the tiny, herbed, black olives I bought at the same stand.
While munching on all these delicacies, I walked through the old city with very narrow streets and shops covering every inch. No lie - there were accordion street players and an Edif Piaf-like street singer. And now the hostel is playing the French National anthem on the radio – I feel like I have just walked into a film! Where are you Humprhey Bogart?!
After some more Alpes Maritimes local and bio food, I hiked up the many stairs to the top of “Castle Hill” with fabulous views, but no castle. Here I took more photos that the world will never see.
Then I hopped a bus to the Musee Matisse – a beautiful orange stucco building in a public park filled with olive trees and men playing serious boules (see the following website for a great explanation of the game: http://www.discoverfrance.net/France/Sports/DF_boules.shtml)
The Museum has a great collection of Matisse’s work from different periods in his life and work – a lovely spectrum and not overwhelming.
After this I was totally exhausted and bee-lined back to the hostel to make a meal with the remains of my markets finds and what food I had at the hostel from Switzerland.
Tomorrow I hope for the Chagall Museum and some other fun finds including the health food stores I found using the information in my Go Lightly Guide to Traveling Naturally in France – so happy it works ☺

Switzerland - A week at the Paracelsus Clinic

19-01-08
Switzerland was a delight as usual. I walked miles and miles everyday – up and down – like the goats and sheep. Many hours a day this week were spent doing tests or treatments at the Paracelsus Biological Medicine Clinic in Lustmuhle Switzerland, about one and a half hours east of Zurich.
This is my fourth time at the clinic so I am very used to the routine. I had an intravenous infusion everyday – either an alkalizing mixture filled with vitamins, minerals and various natural, homeopathic remedies, or an ozone infusion which is cleansing to the blood and also has natural remedies. I also did a type of detoxifying body work called MRT for Matrix Regeneration Therapy, a tissue cleansing treatment done on the back that is sort of like Chinese cupping, but with some added features. I also did one of the oxygen therapies they offer. Usually I ride a stationary bicycle while breathing oxygen. This is energizing and makes me feel the closest I probably ever will to Lance Armstrong since I do not get tired or muscle fatigued with the oxygen. This time, I did a passive oxygen therapy, new to me, that involves just sitting for twelve minutes breathing in oxygen that is charged with negative and positive ions, based on research by a Dr. Engler who found this to be very helpful in oxygenating the body. I received injections with various natural remedies for my thyroid, adrenals, and had a number of tests to check hormones, heavy metals, infections, and general health.
I met lovely people – about eleven other Americans were there while I was, one of whom I knew from a previous trip and the others became fast friends as everyone bonded discussing treatments, doctors, and health issues, not to mention life in Switzerland.
I was the most familiar with the area since I have been there before, so I went off in the afternoons, either walking, or to the nearby small city of St. Gallen.
The beauty of Switzerland is that it is like being in Vermont except with the most efficient public transportation probably on the planet. From the clinic, I could walk down the hill – less than five minutes - to a train stop and take the train, arriving in St. Gallen in about eight minutes.
I have my favorite haunts in St. Gallen including the Brockenhuas (German for second-hand store) where I bought two luxurious, silky cotton, Swiss made duvet covers for about $7 each, knowing that new they cost between $200-300 each!
I know every health food store in the city – of which there are five, not including the two major supermarkets which also sell organic and natural products. I enjoyed going to all of them, buying delicious Swiss sheep’s milk yogurt, a little fair trade dark chocolate with a hazelnut filling to die for, some goat cheese and gluten-free bread made with corn and buckwheat, as well as some Italian oranges.
Some great things I found this trip:
• The first Licensed Organic Trout Farm in Switzerland - Mia’s Bio-Forellenzucht, Haupstrasse (Main Street) 62, Niederteufen; Tel: 079-655-8370 (Niederteufen
is really a neighborhood of Teufen and is between the Paracelsus Clinic and the town center of Teufen.)
• I learned from an American friend who has lived in Switzerland for six years that when you say “I am so Full” after eating, in Swiss German this means you are drunk! ☺ I learned this when I said it while out to lunch with my friend and the waitress laughed so hard – I didn’t know why until my friend broke the news to me.
• I met a woman who does nature photography – her photos can be viewed at: www.yessy.com/carolmilisen
I met another woman who works with animal sanctuaries around the world and has adopted two elephants! Explore a couple of the groups she works with at: www.elephantears.org and www.wildnet.org
I discovered Australian chocolate truffles made without gluten or milk – www.boojabooja.com
At the Zurich main train station you can BORROW bicycles for free with a 20 CHF deposit and identification, preferably a passport. Velogate, as it is called is located across from Track (or Gleis in German) 18 at Museumstrasse.
Thankfully I continued to see apothecaries and pharmacies selling natural homeopathic and herbal remedies alongside conventional pharmaceutical products.
A busy, productive week and now I am blissfully on the train from St. Gallen to Geneve, then onto Nice France!