Wasted Days

Hello my lovelies! I've missed you all dearly, and I apologize profusely for the lack of posting in the last couple of weeks. Yes, i've been a slacker. Yes, I spent a lot of time lying on the couch in my hostel reading. But yes, my computer is completely broken. So cut me a little slack. It's a lot harder to blog when you have to use hostel computers...and I know you guys only look at the pictures ("what's this funny text stuff underneath?"), and it's REALLY hard to upload pics on stranger's computers in order to share them with you. So there's my apology and my excuse. Now that THAT's out of the way...

After Porto, I posted that one super lame entry about Nice (see below). That leaves a lot to be desired, and a lot to be explained, so let me start at the beginning.

I had about 5 days left on my eurail pass, and I really wanted to go somewhere I hadn't been, and somewhere I really wanted to go. I've basically seen all of Spain that I have interest in, so I thought...umm....somewhere relatively close by, somewhere pretty...why not Nice? My sister went and loved it, and since the only city in France that i've seen in Paris, I figured it would be a good experience. So I booked it out of Porto and headed to Nice. The route was Porto-Lisbon-Madrid-Barcelona-Marseille-Nice. That should have given me 2 days in Nice before i'd have to start heading back to Lisbon to work in the hostel over christmas. The trip there should have taken me an overnight train and the rest of one day. Did it? Hahaha...remember...this is MELINDA'S trip. Can anything go right? I think not. So to start with, my overnight train from Lisbon to Madrid pulled into the station 3 hours late. I don't know why it was so delayed...they DID offer us a free espresso though, from the train's dining car. "Oh really? A free espresso? That really makes up for the fact that i've missed my window of opportunity to make it into France today. Gee...thanks." So I got into Madrid, then took a 3 hour train to Barcelona, and realized there was no way I was going to make it into France that night, so took up residence in Kabul hostel (I'm practically a regular there...I spent almost 4 days there with Katie and Natasha). The staff totally recognized me...kind of embarassing since they probably just remember me as the crying girl in the bar seeing as how last time I was dealing with a "no money, new bank card isn't working, i'm going to miss my train" situation. Anyways...I hung out with some english guys that night and drank massive pints of beer so of course I was hungover for my second day of travel the next day. Brilliant. I left for France, but once I got to Marseille, I was informed that...(drumroll please?)...There was a train strike. I had to wait about 5 hours for another train into Nice, putting me into the city around 10:30 at night. So I didn't get to see any of Nice that day...but no worries, right? Because I had a whole other day to peruse the city.

OR SO SHE THOUGHT.

The next day at breakfast I was talking to one of the guys from the hostel that worked there, and asking him about maybe making it to Carcassone (a small french city) after I saw Nice. He told me that no matter where I was planning on going, I should go to the train station that day to make a reservation because the french holiday was starting, so the trains were going to be very busy. So I headed there first.

I dealt with an asshole guy who was laughing with his other ticket agent buddies as he was telling me that there were NO trains out of Nice within the next two days. You have to understand that I was desperate. My eurail ended in 3 days, and even if I couldn't get all the way back to Lisbon, I NEEDED to get closer...I could buy a bus ticket for part of the way, but a bus ticket from Nice to Lisbon would be ridiculously expensive. So I begged him...anything? "NO." He had no sympathy, and kept speaking in french with his buddies and laughing as I teared up and ultimately cried in front of him. So embarassing. It just felt so hopeless. So I said "thanks anyways" and went to cry in the corner of the train station. I had no idea what I was going to do. Finally a different train agent called me up to her counter (she took over my "case" i guess), and told me my only option was to leave Nice that night at 8:00pm. I took it. So basically, I spent 4 days in travel for less than 24 hours in Nice.

Was it worth it? That's a very good question, and one i'm not sure I have an answer to. Nice was absolutely gorgeous. The water was a sparkling jewel, the sunset was so pretty, I could walk around in my cardigan...there were so many nice things about the city. So of course I was glad that I came. I just don't know if it was worth it.

I spent my less than a day in Nice #1. Going to the Chagall museum (truly incredible. Chagall is one of my favorite artists, if only for his use of color). #2. Shopping (I bought a new top...screw the fact I can't close my suitcase without sitting on top of it!). #3. Drawing and painting. I've got a story about that too.

Often when I'm painting something, people sometimes come up to peek over my shoulder to look at whatever i'm doing. Usually it's just kind of embarassing. Sometimes i'll get some vigorous head nods with smiles (approval from strangers? YES!), sometimes people will try to talk to me (sorry, i only speak english), and sometimes, like in Nice...they just won't go away.

While I was painting a landscape of the beach this creepy old guy came up to look at what I was doing, and he sat next to me. Point number one: He was probably 50 years old, and was trying to hit on me. Point number two: He reeked of tobacco and made me want to gag. Point number three: He couldn't really speak english, but gosh darn...he was going to try to sit and talk to me for almost a half an hour! All these points made me want to give him a big "fuck off", but I was trying to be the polite foreigner. I kept trying to ignore him and just finish the painting, but was finally driven off when he put his finger in my yellow paint and tried to "put the sun into my drawing". I wanted to murder him. Seriously. I all but yelled at him to not touch my sketchbook, and then I packed up and left, telling him I had to meet someone. So frustrating...I hate being run off because of some creepy guy! I finished the painting by memory.

And when I was working on the painting above, this younger guy came up and tried talking to me for a bit, then lingered around my shoulder for like...10 minutes! What are you supposed to say? Um...personal space please? I had to keep one eye on my painting, and one eye on my bag. I'm so convinced i'm going to be robbed again. I hate being so suspicious, but I feel like I have to be now.

So that was my story of Nice. I did really like the city. I hope you guys don't think i'm the most negative person in the world...of course good things happen to me...but the bad things are so much funnier, don't you think? I headed back to Lisbon that night at 8 and arrived 2 days later at 8 in the morning.