Ok. So to bed late last night after the expensive trip to Monaco. And up early to get Carly to the airport to fly out home. We needed to get a car at the airport to pick up our rental car for the next leg of our trip to Marseille. Maybe I will see Brandy. She would be about 70 by now. 70 year old bar girl. Yikes.
We skipped an immediate breakfast till we got to he airport. Save a little time. We hope.
Carly and Michael left earlier than the three of us. Her flight was leaving early. Prior to us.
We got a call while still at the hostel. Carlys flight was cancelled. Fucking Vueling Air. The plane was broken. Don’t want to fly on a broken plane. I hate Vueling Air. Don’t fly it.
We tried to help solve the problem by helping to find another flight for her. But, she did not want any help.
We got to the airport. Had to go to terminal one to get car. Then we left car and took a shuttle to terminal 2 to meet with Michael and Carly. Talked to Carly. She and Michael are working on it. Vuelings solution is bad at best. And she would miss her connection.
We had breakfast. Pastries and coffee. Great even in airport format. Why is it the French always make good coffee and great pastries? In America the food in airports is bland and overpriced. Seems as though we could do better.
The Nice airport is small but still very difficult to get around. They have separated the two small terminals to a point where u have to take the shuttle. The rental cars are in the back of the car park, even farther away. I got to walk off the pastries and coffee.
Carly finally found a flight to LA. Cost her an xtra $2k. Fucking Vueling. At least she is on her way. Sad her trip ended so poorly.
We went to enterprise got our Citroen C3. It’s a station wagon, nice looking, manual transmission with a very long throw. Weak acceleration in 1 and 2. Squirrelly steering which is no fun. Ample room for people and luggage. I won’t be buying one anytime soon.
3 hour trip to Marseille. One stop at rest stop for food. Again, asbin Italy, the rest stop foodnis truly great. They had a line for pre made sandwiches. Very good sandwiches. And cheap. America put to shame. There was also a hot food line where you could get a full meal. Served on plates with silverware. I did not try the food but it looked great. We sat down inside and ate. Much to Michaels chagrin as he wanted to eat in the car. But, whennin France…
To Marseille airport next. Very small airport. We did not get into it since we were only dropping off the car. Once we rid ourselves of the Citroen, I called for an Uber and got out of there. Straight to Marseille, 21 miles. That part is not so good. We spend a lot on transit.
Uber’d to our hostel. Vertigo Hostelnits called. Only one twin bed on top floor, no AC and super hot. Marika got the reservation wrong on bed count and sizenof room. So, we booked a room at he Holiday Inn four hundred feet away. They had two beds. And AC. Not so bad.
So we laid down for a few in our new, cool room. Tried to use the hotel laundry service. No go. They don’t wash on Sunday and we check out tomorrow. No clean clothes.
We decided to go out. Walked down to the old port. It was quite a long walk but we got a good feel for that part of the city. It’s dirty, and seedy. We stopped at a cafe for a drink. What fun. We ordered three Aperol spritzed and a beer. The waiter brought three double espressos and a beer. And he then went off on a tirade when we corr Fred him. Rude fucking waiter. He took the coffee. Brought the correct drinks. The drinks were excellent.
Next, we walked up to the old fort. It’s a looming presence over the port, above it on the hillside. Large police presence for Bastille Day. Gendarmes all over. Did I forget to mention French Independence Day? It’s today. And the police are all over.
Walked back from old city area to town picked a cafe. Had dinner.
Pleasant place. Dinner was nice. Not excellent, he’ll not even very good. Picked the prix fixe menu. Ok. Wanted better. It was just ok. Now we sit and digest.
After dinner a reversal. Walked through town the other way to the hotel. There were thousands of people on the street headed to the port. Turns out the fireworks show is set off there. I think every citizen of Marseille was out and headed down there. Not us.
Got to hotel and did the shower thing. Sat around. Read a book. Watched the fireworks out the back window. The best seat in the house. Spectacular show. The finale was a thing of beauty. You shoulda been there.
Off to bed.