Cote d' Azure

"It may get stuck between floors," he said. Maurice, the desk clerk at the Riviera Hotel, 2 Avenue Albert, Villefranche-sur-Mer, told us as we inquired about the elevator. His seven-year-old daughter didn't notice us as she was deeply involved playing with an imaginary friend.  I took the elevator on Marrices's insistance that he would get meout in case tthe elevator got stuck. Our room was small but neat and tidy, and we immediately opened the floor length windows to the balcony. The view of the harbor was stunning. The Mediterranean Sea was its customary brilliant blue.  Luxury yachts the size of small ocean liners were taut on their mooring lines. This was the French Riviera.

Our drive from Vaison la Romaine  had been exhausting.  After all, we did make a few wrong turns in downtown Nice, but that did not curb our inquisitive spirit.  Maurice gave us a map of the town and pointed out a few places to eat. (Desk clerks can always do this for they have friends at restaurants.)  They know what the prices are, also. He reminded us that the closer the eatery was to the water the more expensive it would be.

There were a limited number of hours of sunlight left, and we had to get started. Down the stone streets and alleys of the medieval town we went.  First, we passed Saint Michael's church, built in the 18th century, that is in the "Old Town". We continue our downward walk toward the sea, since all towns on the Cote de Azur are on hillsides by the sea.  Our quest, or I should say, hunger for food led us to an oriental restaurant. (The restaurants suggested by the desk clerk were closed.)  The food and service were good,  but they wouldn't take our credit cards.  We prefer to carry very little cash, just a  hundred euros or so from the ATMs. The lengthy time for service is the norm in France, but is difficult for we Americans to adjust to it. We pass shops on the narrow streets as we continue.   But, the walk to the shoreline is worth the effort. If you are young, or just feel that way, there is nothing like the walk by the waterfront cafes as patrons from the yachts at anchorage come ashore.  The lights of the city beckon you as the music drifts across the water, with wafts of the odors of exotic foods and the stars above twinkle. And you wonder, "Can life be any better than this?"

We stop and look for creatures in the stars and talk in those hushed tones that lovers use before the walk through darkened streets to our hotel room many feet above sea level.