D****e was leaving Paris about an hour earlier than myself, so I decided to tag along to her station and then backtrack to mine (hey, it was extra friend-time). I’m not good at going back to sleep after waking up, anyway. Thus, we checked out of the hotel together, and I rode with her, then changed platforms towards Paris Gare de Lyon to take my long-distance train. The ride across France was six hours, but it was very cheap, and not much longer than I would take flying from home to my destination.

The current iteration of the Paris Gare de Lyon station was erected following designs of Marius Toudoire around 1900, so it was ready for the World Fair. It features a clock tower and an inner ironwork structure combined with decorative details typical of the Belle Époque design. The station was bustling even early in the morning – I arrived before 7:00 for my 8:21 departure. My ticket said that I would have to leave through hall 3, but there was an announcement from hall 1, where I waited.

Since the previous day I had been tired and had not thought to buy food for the day, I had to pay the price of travel-hub lunch. I got myself some cookies, a Coke and a sandwich – chicken in traditional sauce. I also decided to start a Christmas ornament collection, and got myself a shiny Paris bauble. Access to the train opened ten to fifteen minutes before departure, and it was a bit chaotic. My seat was in the low 500s, and for some reason you could not go from one carriage to another (or at least from my carriage to another?) so I’m happy I got the right door on the first try. The train left on time, at 8:21 sharp, and I slept for the first couple of hours. Around 11:00 I was hungry, so I decided to pull out my sandwich… which ended up being “tandoori sauce”, not “traditional sauce”. Take that, caffeine-deprived brain. For a second, I considered not eating it, fearing it would upset my stomach. However, I was hungry enough that I did not really care, and it was not too spicy. I had another nap afterwards again, and before I knew it I had arrived at the Gare de Nice-Ville station in Nice, in the south-east of France, the area known as the Côte d’Azur (Azure Coast) or French Riviera.

The first hominids may have roamed the area as far as 400,000 years ago. However, the city was founded around the 350 BCE by settlers of Greek origin, naming it after Nike, goddess of victory. There was a nearby Gallic-then-Roman settlement, Cemenelum, which was eventually absorbed by the growing Nice. During many years throughout history, it could be considered that the region was part of Italy in one way or another. In 1860, the territory was given to France, though not all the Niçoises were happy about that. The Italy sympathisers were repressed without much success.

After the annexation to France and the modernisation of the railway network, Nice became popular amongst the English aristocracy, who enjoyed spending winter there. Holiday-makers included Queen Victoria, for whom a full hotel was built, and her son Edward VII. This would eventually lead to the city’s economy boom during the second half of the 20^th century, after it was liberated from the WWII occupation.

In 2021, Unesco recognised the uniqueness of Nice declaring it World Heritage as Nice, Winter Resort Town of the Riviera, with emphasis on the winter part. The development of winter resorts was different from the summer ones, creating layer upon layer of new structures. The so-called Belle Époque architecture became popular, but all in all, the layout of the city is quite complex, due to both history (grand hotels near Roman ruins) and geography (beaches and cliffs).

I headed out to the hotel, which was very near the station, dropped off my stuff and went on exploring. The weather was great, so I could forego one of my layers, even. I was starting to understand the “mild winter” reputation. I first headed down the Avenue Jean Médecin, the main commercial artery of the town, until I reached the promenade.

On the way, I stopped at the basilica-church Basilique Notre-Dame de l’Assomption, a Neo Gothic building designed by Charles Lenormand and erected in the 1860s, after the city was incorporated to France, as gothic was (is?) considered a “very French style” (thanks, Viollet-Le-Duc) and more “French architecture” was desired in the city. The building was not open, so I continued down the avenue until I reached the large Place Masséna, the main square of the city. It is surrounded by red buildings of Italian architecture, and a fountain called Fontaine du Soleil, the fountain of the sun, representing the Greek god Apollo.

After crossing the Esplanade Georges Pompidou and leaving behind an ugly monument thing Neuf lignes obliques, I found myself at the famous Nice promenade and the Mediterranean Sea. In front of me, a line of private and public beaches made of rounded boulders. On my right, the Promenade des anglais (the Walkway of the English), and on my left the Quai des États-Unis (United States Quay). I turned left, but I could not prevent getting distracted by the beaches. Leaving behind the opera house Opéra de Nice, where nothing was on, I spent some time sitting by the ocean before I continued my way.

I diverted a little back into the old town to visit the cathedral Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate de Nice – Cathedral of Saint Reparata. Construction started in 1650 in the Baroque style, and it went on for centuries until it was declared complete in 1949. The building has one bell tower and ten lateral chapels. It enshrines the relics of Saint Reparata, which arrived in Nice in 1690.

After wandering Old Nice for a bit, I started the climb up the historic park Colline du Château, where the old Nice castle and cathedral stood. Today it offers panoramic views, ruins, playgrounds and… cemeteries for some reason. There is a “free” lift, but someone stood at the entrance, looking very much like they were charging a fee. I wanted to climb up the stairs on foot for the views anyway. Though it was before 16:00, the sky was already in sunset mode.

The ascent was not difficult, three or four flights of stairs before I reached the small building that tops the tower Tour Bellanda, the first viewpoint. The structure was originally a medieval defensive structure, but it was destroyed and rebuilt as a place to enjoy the views. I continued on, through the hill / park / historical site. There are several viewpoints towards both sides of the city, along with historical ruins, mosaic decorations, fountains, even the aforementioned cemeteries… All in all I had a lot of fun exploring.

It had become dark by the time I left the parks, and I somehow ended up re-entering the city down some historical stairs which landed me right into the Medieval quarter again. After going back to the beach for some more wave sounds, I undid my path towards the hotel, taking the exact same route.

There was a bookshop on the way, and I really wanted to stop and buy a book I knew was out that weekend, but honestly? D****e had brought so many presents for me that it would not have fit into the backpack… What I did buy was dinner and breakfast for the following day at the supermarket in front of the hotel – read: coffee and a sandwich. Oh, and a smoothie because it looked awesome.

I spent the last couple of hours of the evening in the hotel, watching bad creature films on YouTube before I went to bed.