We have recently completed an eight day road trip across the south of France from Nice to Bordeaux. Some might say we bit off more than we could chew and while we saw A LOT and enjoyed every minute, we're not doing such an immense sight seeing 'holiday' again anytime soon. From now on, its all-inclusive beach holidays for us! We've seen it all!
On Saturday we flew out to Nice and spent a lovely afternoon exploring, climbing the cliff that towers over the city and generally just soaking it all up. True to form, the world is very small and Brad bumped into one of his school friends Aled DeMalmanche who was also paying Nice a visit.
Having spent a lot of time in Cannes, I was excited to see what the bigger brother Nice had to offer and wasn't disappointed. Despite it being mid-Autumn, the temperature was in the early twenties and it was great to get a reprieve from wearing a heavy jacket!
After a few hours of hefty exploration, we sat down at a little cafe and stuffed ourselves on delightful cuisine. The Riviera is renowned for beautiful fresh food, including copious amounts of seafood, so we were anxious to get amongst it. Washing it down with chocolate gingerbread gelato from a famous gelateria, we watched the sunset then headed back to our cute hotel, which looked our over a main street.
We were up and at em on Sunday, tootling off to Gare du Nice (train station) to visit the much anticipated Principality of Monaco. After the most beautiful train journey along the Mediterranean, we grabbed some breakfast and gazed out in awe at the super yachts, some of which could house a small nation! Monaco was a real highlight and is such a beautiful place - we wandered around for hours, checking out the most glorious views and even visiting the castle to say hi to Albert and Charlene. Quite the narcissistic Prince is Albert, and almost every street seems to be named after him. We also saw the Grace Kelly theatre so at least he gave one monument to his late Mother!
After such a wonderful time in Monaco, it was only fair we had our share of bad luck - swings and roundabouts and all that jazz! So when Brad waltzed into Monte Carlo to try his hand at BlackJack, where the minimum bet was far from minimum, it was no surprise that I opted to stay outside in the sun. Nek minute (quite literally), he was out and we were on our way, with lighter pockets than on the journey there to say the least.
We arrived back in Nice late afternoon and with the weather packing in, we headed back to the hotel. I was doing a half marathon in a few weeks and was determined to get a few runs in while I was away, so decided to brave what I thought would be a light shower. I ended up running in a full on electric storm where I was soaked to the bone. It actually proved to be an amazing run - one of the best yet. I ran along the coast and aside from a few moments when lightening was directly above me, I felt like I could have run forever! After drying off we then braved the rain to head out for a gloriously delicious meal, with the nicest glass of red we have experienced to date!
We bid Nice farewell on Monday morning, picked up our rental car from the airport and set off for St Tropez, via Cannes. I had a very surreal ball showing Brad all the spots, such as where I work, my favourite restaurant and bars etc. After a few hours, including a delicious lunch at my favourite restaurant we set off again.
We arrived in St Tropez late afternoon in perfect time to explore the beautiful wee fishing village, complete with gustily winds! We only just managed to make it back to our hotel before a full gale broke out, so we spent the night wrapped up warm inside munching on hot dogs – tres Francais!
The next morning I set off for a run along the Mediterranean coast, which provided another amazing run, before we set off for the beautiful city of Avignon, via Marseille. Avignon is just stunning and we felt we could come back and stay for weeks – it’s a beautiful old town, with tiny cobbled streets, beautiful gothic buildings and GORGEOUS wee shoe shops, which took up a fair portion of our afternoon! We ended up in a paved square, relaxing in the sun and sipping wine for an hour or so, soaking it all up, before setting off in search of the famous Pont d’Avignon – a bridge made famous by the fact that half of it has perfectly washed away. It really is a beautiful site sitting on the river, with the old town in the background. I could live in Avignon tomorrow!
We had a delicious dinner that evening after wandering through the city at night, set in another town square in front of their City Hill, or Hotel de Ville as it is referred to in France.
The next morning we set our alarms bright and early to head off to a local food market, before enjoying our typical breakfast of croissants and coffee in the town square, fighting off the pigeons. Wanting one last look at the beautiful bridge, we set off to the other side of the river to get the postcard shot, before nipping back to the hotel and setting off to our destination – Andorra, via Perpignan!
Having been to Perpignan each year for work, like Cannes, I was keen to show Brad the city. We arrived in remarkable time and spent a lovely few hours seeing all the sites and wandering through the cobbled streets. Perpignan is very much a Rugby town and on Saturday nights it can get quite raucous if there is a match on. Sadly, or thankfully, depending upon which side of the fence you are sitting on, there wasn’t a match on so our time there was spent relaxing in the sun eating croque monsieurs!
Knowing that our next drive was a tad long, we set off over the Pyrenees (the mountains that separate France and Spain) to a tiny wee country called Andorra, famous for skiing, shopping and smuggling! While it was an absolutely breathtaking drive through the mountains, we were grateful to get to our hotel some hours later, ticking off one of the very last countries in Western Europe. We had splashed out a bit more for this night and so we made the most of the hotel, refusing to leave and see any sites – taking full advantage of some much-needed down time!
The next morning after a rather unusual breakfast experience, where without menus and speaking only Catalan the waitress brought us over various bits and bobs to eat, we left for Andorra la Vella – the main city a lengthy... ahem… two minutes drive from the other ‘city’ we were staying in. Andorra is huge for shopping seeing as everything is duty free and so making like a local, we embarked on what might have been three of the most stressful and wasteful hours of my life. Agonising over different winter coats, buying one, only to spot something similar and cheaper elsewhere, returning the original and trying to explain using hand actions why I didn’t want it, worrying had I made the wrong decision etc…. Needless to say, I still haven’t worn the coat I brought there and although I know I’ll get good use of it when we go to Russia, every time I see the coat now I feel a little angry.
Tired, grumpy and feeling like the entire country of Andorra was a blur, we set off for the last of our big drives – destination Bordeaux! This time we opted for the toll roads as it took almost twice as long to get there otherwise. The road was basically one huge highway, so as you can imagine is rather straight and dull. We were antsy less than halfway through, so by the time we arrived in Bordeaux our grumpy mood had worsened. Thankfully we managed to pull ourselves out of our slump and went for a lovely dinner, alongside even lovelier glasses of wine… When in Bordeaux!
We were very much looking forward to the next day – we had arranged a cooking lesson in a tiny French village at a country restaurant, as well as a tour of a vineyard. After getting up early to make it there in time – over two hours away – we arrived in a fluster, only to find that the madame who was supposed to be taking us had completely forgotten and was out! This was all explained to us by her gardener who didn’t speak a word of English. Needless to say, we were well and truly furious. Making our way back into Bergerac we went to the tourism office who had arranged this for us and after many emails, phone calls and eventually a face-to-face discussion we managed to get a refund. Honestly, you would have thought they’d given us the winning lotto the way they went on! All we wanted was our money back – not compensation for the petrol used to get out there and back, the wasted morning, or the money used on toll roads. This experience very much confirmed my thoughts on French efficiency and organization, or lack of! That said, before I’ve got the Ministry of French Culture on my back, I do work with a very darling colleague who is French and perhaps the most organized person I have ever met, everyone other Frenchie however... lets just say I wouldn't rely on them to call an ambulance!
Defeated, dejected and ravenous, we drove home through the very beautiful village of Saint-Emillion, which is a gorgeous wine-making village.
It would have been so easy to spend the rest of the day sulking – to make matters worse it was absolutely chucking it down. I managed to salvage the situation however by going for a very beautiful run along the riverside, running far longer than I originally anticipated – it really is the most gorgeous way to see a new city and something I'll be adopting in every place we visit moving forward I think!
Thankfully the next day was a glorious one and provided a lovely way to end our Tour de France! We spent the entire day wandering around Bordeaux, exploring this big and beautiful city, stuffing ourselves silly, and of course – indulging in a touch more shoe shopping! The rain couldn’t dampen our spirits, although it did significantly dampen our clothes, and we were out from sunrise to sun-down, stopping every hour or so for a bite to eat – whether it be foie gras, crepes or croissants!
We had managed to time our journey to Bordeaux with a town fair, so took full advantage of the giant Ferris Wheel, which gave us great insight into the lie of the land and meant we didn’t have to climb to the top of the church steeple as we so often do in these European cities!
After drying off for an hour, we set off with the intention of exploring options for dinner, making it as far as the front door – it was absolutely bucketing it down! Town between our hungry bellies and the warmth of our room, we noticed a tiny restaurant next to our hotel that we hadn’t seen before. Running into it for refuge we were met with an actually bustling and tres French eaterie, where we managed to grab a table for two despite the place being packed. Thinking we were onto a good thing, we were much relieved when the waiter brought round menus and realized we could actually afford to eat here, although we were a tad miffed when we couldn’t make out a thing on the menu. My French failed me, as did the waiter’s English, and we ended up with two weird but edible and relatively nice starters… The situation with the main meal was perhaps a little different – my salmon arrived safe and sound, but after not understanding what part of meat they were referring to when they spoke of Brad’s meal, I was a little nervous. Avid readers of the blog may remember the Lille incident where Brad ended up with a plate of a*sehole… quite literally… Based on this experience I was understandably a little jittery. When Brad was presented with a lung-shaped pile of matter, I thought surely not? I mean, the waiter was pointing to his rib area when I asked what it was, but still - is he actually serving Brad a pig’s lung? Brad turned the matter over and promptly turned it back again – the under carriage was not pretty. He ate it, although looking a little pale and perturbed with my snorts of laughter every few seconds! Exactly what it was remains a mystery, but if I were a betting woman…
The next day we returned to London with two more countries under our belt, a few kilograms heavier, a much lighter wallet, and several pairs of new shoes – all you can ask for from a holiday really!
xx
On Saturday we flew out to Nice and spent a lovely afternoon exploring, climbing the cliff that towers over the city and generally just soaking it all up. True to form, the world is very small and Brad bumped into one of his school friends Aled DeMalmanche who was also paying Nice a visit.
Having spent a lot of time in Cannes, I was excited to see what the bigger brother Nice had to offer and wasn't disappointed. Despite it being mid-Autumn, the temperature was in the early twenties and it was great to get a reprieve from wearing a heavy jacket!
After a few hours of hefty exploration, we sat down at a little cafe and stuffed ourselves on delightful cuisine. The Riviera is renowned for beautiful fresh food, including copious amounts of seafood, so we were anxious to get amongst it. Washing it down with chocolate gingerbread gelato from a famous gelateria, we watched the sunset then headed back to our cute hotel, which looked our over a main street.
We were up and at em on Sunday, tootling off to Gare du Nice (train station) to visit the much anticipated Principality of Monaco. After the most beautiful train journey along the Mediterranean, we grabbed some breakfast and gazed out in awe at the super yachts, some of which could house a small nation! Monaco was a real highlight and is such a beautiful place - we wandered around for hours, checking out the most glorious views and even visiting the castle to say hi to Albert and Charlene. Quite the narcissistic Prince is Albert, and almost every street seems to be named after him. We also saw the Grace Kelly theatre so at least he gave one monument to his late Mother!
After such a wonderful time in Monaco, it was only fair we had our share of bad luck - swings and roundabouts and all that jazz! So when Brad waltzed into Monte Carlo to try his hand at BlackJack, where the minimum bet was far from minimum, it was no surprise that I opted to stay outside in the sun. Nek minute (quite literally), he was out and we were on our way, with lighter pockets than on the journey there to say the least.
We arrived back in Nice late afternoon and with the weather packing in, we headed back to the hotel. I was doing a half marathon in a few weeks and was determined to get a few runs in while I was away, so decided to brave what I thought would be a light shower. I ended up running in a full on electric storm where I was soaked to the bone. It actually proved to be an amazing run - one of the best yet. I ran along the coast and aside from a few moments when lightening was directly above me, I felt like I could have run forever! After drying off we then braved the rain to head out for a gloriously delicious meal, with the nicest glass of red we have experienced to date!
We bid Nice farewell on Monday morning, picked up our rental car from the airport and set off for St Tropez, via Cannes. I had a very surreal ball showing Brad all the spots, such as where I work, my favourite restaurant and bars etc. After a few hours, including a delicious lunch at my favourite restaurant we set off again.
We arrived in St Tropez late afternoon in perfect time to explore the beautiful wee fishing village, complete with gustily winds! We only just managed to make it back to our hotel before a full gale broke out, so we spent the night wrapped up warm inside munching on hot dogs – tres Francais!
The next morning I set off for a run along the Mediterranean coast, which provided another amazing run, before we set off for the beautiful city of Avignon, via Marseille. Avignon is just stunning and we felt we could come back and stay for weeks – it’s a beautiful old town, with tiny cobbled streets, beautiful gothic buildings and GORGEOUS wee shoe shops, which took up a fair portion of our afternoon! We ended up in a paved square, relaxing in the sun and sipping wine for an hour or so, soaking it all up, before setting off in search of the famous Pont d’Avignon – a bridge made famous by the fact that half of it has perfectly washed away. It really is a beautiful site sitting on the river, with the old town in the background. I could live in Avignon tomorrow!
We had a delicious dinner that evening after wandering through the city at night, set in another town square in front of their City Hill, or Hotel de Ville as it is referred to in France.
The next morning we set our alarms bright and early to head off to a local food market, before enjoying our typical breakfast of croissants and coffee in the town square, fighting off the pigeons. Wanting one last look at the beautiful bridge, we set off to the other side of the river to get the postcard shot, before nipping back to the hotel and setting off to our destination – Andorra, via Perpignan!
Having been to Perpignan each year for work, like Cannes, I was keen to show Brad the city. We arrived in remarkable time and spent a lovely few hours seeing all the sites and wandering through the cobbled streets. Perpignan is very much a Rugby town and on Saturday nights it can get quite raucous if there is a match on. Sadly, or thankfully, depending upon which side of the fence you are sitting on, there wasn’t a match on so our time there was spent relaxing in the sun eating croque monsieurs!
Knowing that our next drive was a tad long, we set off over the Pyrenees (the mountains that separate France and Spain) to a tiny wee country called Andorra, famous for skiing, shopping and smuggling! While it was an absolutely breathtaking drive through the mountains, we were grateful to get to our hotel some hours later, ticking off one of the very last countries in Western Europe. We had splashed out a bit more for this night and so we made the most of the hotel, refusing to leave and see any sites – taking full advantage of some much-needed down time!
The next morning after a rather unusual breakfast experience, where without menus and speaking only Catalan the waitress brought us over various bits and bobs to eat, we left for Andorra la Vella – the main city a lengthy... ahem… two minutes drive from the other ‘city’ we were staying in. Andorra is huge for shopping seeing as everything is duty free and so making like a local, we embarked on what might have been three of the most stressful and wasteful hours of my life. Agonising over different winter coats, buying one, only to spot something similar and cheaper elsewhere, returning the original and trying to explain using hand actions why I didn’t want it, worrying had I made the wrong decision etc…. Needless to say, I still haven’t worn the coat I brought there and although I know I’ll get good use of it when we go to Russia, every time I see the coat now I feel a little angry.
Tired, grumpy and feeling like the entire country of Andorra was a blur, we set off for the last of our big drives – destination Bordeaux! This time we opted for the toll roads as it took almost twice as long to get there otherwise. The road was basically one huge highway, so as you can imagine is rather straight and dull. We were antsy less than halfway through, so by the time we arrived in Bordeaux our grumpy mood had worsened. Thankfully we managed to pull ourselves out of our slump and went for a lovely dinner, alongside even lovelier glasses of wine… When in Bordeaux!
We were very much looking forward to the next day – we had arranged a cooking lesson in a tiny French village at a country restaurant, as well as a tour of a vineyard. After getting up early to make it there in time – over two hours away – we arrived in a fluster, only to find that the madame who was supposed to be taking us had completely forgotten and was out! This was all explained to us by her gardener who didn’t speak a word of English. Needless to say, we were well and truly furious. Making our way back into Bergerac we went to the tourism office who had arranged this for us and after many emails, phone calls and eventually a face-to-face discussion we managed to get a refund. Honestly, you would have thought they’d given us the winning lotto the way they went on! All we wanted was our money back – not compensation for the petrol used to get out there and back, the wasted morning, or the money used on toll roads. This experience very much confirmed my thoughts on French efficiency and organization, or lack of! That said, before I’ve got the Ministry of French Culture on my back, I do work with a very darling colleague who is French and perhaps the most organized person I have ever met, everyone other Frenchie however... lets just say I wouldn't rely on them to call an ambulance!
Defeated, dejected and ravenous, we drove home through the very beautiful village of Saint-Emillion, which is a gorgeous wine-making village.
It would have been so easy to spend the rest of the day sulking – to make matters worse it was absolutely chucking it down. I managed to salvage the situation however by going for a very beautiful run along the riverside, running far longer than I originally anticipated – it really is the most gorgeous way to see a new city and something I'll be adopting in every place we visit moving forward I think!
Thankfully the next day was a glorious one and provided a lovely way to end our Tour de France! We spent the entire day wandering around Bordeaux, exploring this big and beautiful city, stuffing ourselves silly, and of course – indulging in a touch more shoe shopping! The rain couldn’t dampen our spirits, although it did significantly dampen our clothes, and we were out from sunrise to sun-down, stopping every hour or so for a bite to eat – whether it be foie gras, crepes or croissants!
We had managed to time our journey to Bordeaux with a town fair, so took full advantage of the giant Ferris Wheel, which gave us great insight into the lie of the land and meant we didn’t have to climb to the top of the church steeple as we so often do in these European cities!
After drying off for an hour, we set off with the intention of exploring options for dinner, making it as far as the front door – it was absolutely bucketing it down! Town between our hungry bellies and the warmth of our room, we noticed a tiny restaurant next to our hotel that we hadn’t seen before. Running into it for refuge we were met with an actually bustling and tres French eaterie, where we managed to grab a table for two despite the place being packed. Thinking we were onto a good thing, we were much relieved when the waiter brought round menus and realized we could actually afford to eat here, although we were a tad miffed when we couldn’t make out a thing on the menu. My French failed me, as did the waiter’s English, and we ended up with two weird but edible and relatively nice starters… The situation with the main meal was perhaps a little different – my salmon arrived safe and sound, but after not understanding what part of meat they were referring to when they spoke of Brad’s meal, I was a little nervous. Avid readers of the blog may remember the Lille incident where Brad ended up with a plate of a*sehole… quite literally… Based on this experience I was understandably a little jittery. When Brad was presented with a lung-shaped pile of matter, I thought surely not? I mean, the waiter was pointing to his rib area when I asked what it was, but still - is he actually serving Brad a pig’s lung? Brad turned the matter over and promptly turned it back again – the under carriage was not pretty. He ate it, although looking a little pale and perturbed with my snorts of laughter every few seconds! Exactly what it was remains a mystery, but if I were a betting woman…
The next day we returned to London with two more countries under our belt, a few kilograms heavier, a much lighter wallet, and several pairs of new shoes – all you can ask for from a holiday really!
xx
