An orgy of tat

Apparently Friday nights in the centre of Nice in the summer turn into an absolute chaos of tat - portrait painting, fake tattoos, knock-off bags, wallets, etc - I even saw a man in actual sackcloth and ashes. I always thought that was a metaphor (or something similarly literary. You know what I mean.)

That said, because I know you've all been just pining for it, below is today's photo of summer.




We went to the port in Nice for lunch, saw the Corsica ferry (big, yellow, about all there is to say about it) and the rocks in the sea there are in the picture above.

Further photos - including that of the pink salt they gave us with dinner tonight - to come at some point...

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A new, fiscally responsible me...

Most of you will be surprised - nay, even disbelieving - at today's title. But I am feeling very virtuous - rather than spend money in my usual profligate way, I have today cleared two of my credit cards. And I even have money left over to buy a travelcard (you can get a year's travelcard, with unlimited travel on buses, trams and who knows what else, for 150 euros! That impressed me, anyway...) and actual food and things. And meet the minimum payments on my remaining card. Go me!

Today's pictures of sunshine will follow when I get them off the camera and onto the computer. I'm sure you're all waiting with bated breath...

(Oh, and we still don't have a flat. Tomorrow, we're told, again. I'm going to throw a screaming tantrum if it isn't really tomorrow.)

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My new town

Today's news: we got a bank account (It took nearly an hour and a half. I'm sure it doesn't take that long in the UK, does it? I vaguely remember it taking about 5 minutes...). Our bank manager person is lovely - a bit mad, but lovely - and we now have a joint account, on the production of just our passports and proof of address, with cards and chequebooks and things to come shortly. I also, during the course of this long, long process, found out that the market is 6 days a week (not Mondays), is just outside the bank, is cheaper during the week, and is at its peak at about 9am. Bank managers in Brighton just don't tell you these things...

We don't, yet, have a flat. Tomorrow, apparently. Our painter fell off a ladder, and the electrics are being finished this evening. So, by the weekend, we won't be homeless any more!

Random photos from around Nice follow - note the colour of the sky; that's what summer looks like, for those of you still back in the UK...





Oh - and my hat! It's fabulous, don't you think? (note: "No" is an unacceptable answer, here.)

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Blue, wet, salty - I live by the sea

The sea is warm. And it has fish in it! (To everyone in Nice, and perhaps everyone reading this, this is probably like pointing out that water is wet. For someone who's just moved from Brighton, where neither warmth nor living sea creatures are at all a given, it's amazing!)

I have a new, purple hat, too, but the photos are upstairs, so you'll have to wait to see it. And I took some photos which might turn out well of Nice's old town this evening (while waiting - and waiting, and waiting... - for dinner. Crap service, nice scenery - almost balanced. But not quite.) But the colours were spectacular - not sure they'll come through properly on the photos...

Tomorrow we should (assuming it's been built) get the keys to our flat. Hopefully. Though that our landlady hasn't rung us to confirm is slightly concerning. We're also getting a bank account tomorrow afternoon, assuming the bank like us enough to allow us to pay them for the privilege.

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Telephone!

I have a French telephone and phone number - I am practically a part of French society now. Or something. It's a cheap, ugly phone that doesn't seem to have an off button (if anyone has ever had a Nokia 1650 and knows how to turn it on and off, please let me know...) but it's mine. And it means that I don't have to pay to receive phone calls anymore!

And when I get back to the UK, I need to tell T-mobile to unlock my proper phone, so I can use something sensible and non-ugly again...

EDIT: Apparently one turns it on and off by pressing the hang-up button. Of course. Why didn't I think of that?

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Note to self - farmers finding true wuv

Just a quick note to me to remember to write about L'amour est dans le pré which is the best TV I have seen in ages. Farmers and urban people are paired up (I missed the first - few? - episode, but they had it down to 2 possibles last night - and some of them found true love. Awwwwwww.) Features a farmer called Norbert, an introverted Basque farmer who doesn't say much, and a woman who stabs cows with a pitchfork to get them to move. As if this wasn't good enough, next week (and of course I will watch!) the farmers are going to the town. Where, if they are halfway sane (dubious, at best) they will realise that looking after geese and cows is not the be-all-and-end-all of life.

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Electro Funk Disco - the Cross Over Festival

http://www.illegalparty.com/article42938.html appears to be taking place outside my hotel window tonight.. And the night after. And the one after that.

I am not a fan of electro-rock. Nor Electro Funk Disco. I do, however, like sleep. Sadly.

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One step closer to getting a flat

We nearly have a flat to move into - we have a signed contract for a flat, and a letter box key. That's got to count for something (hopefully enough to navigate French banking and general bureaucracy. She says optimistically.) We will have keys to the flat by Thursday morning, we're assured - once they have, you know, finished building it. Builder swears he'll be out by Wednesday afternoon, all finished - I won't quite hold my breath...

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The Wound.

In all it's technicolour glory. This is after several hours (it's still manky now...)



Feel free to shower me with sympathy - I can't afford to keep paying pharmacists to do it!

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Pharmacists in Nice are better than Boots...

Lovely people, pharmacists. All sympathetic and soothing of my hypochondria - and I now have waterproof giant plasters (unfortunately not ones with cartoon characters on, for extra awesomeness) so I can even go swimming. And much pain - alcohol wipes for disinfecting things are *brutal*.

We're going to sign our contract today, so as of tomorrow when the builders supposedly finish, we should have a brand new flat! And we can get a bank account and register with the local council and all those good and sensible things we need to do before everyone goes on holiday at the beginning of August.

I haven't forgotten about the European Petanque Championships (Sweden has a petanque team; I bet you didn't know that. They won, too...) but this blog is all about me, and right now, my aching knee is the centre of my world. I had forgotten the grimness of the French police, too - walking back from the beach, they were chasing some poor guy, and started beating him up in front of the hotel. He might have done something to deserve it, but I somehow doubt anyone deserves that...

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Treachery on the streets of Nice

Holes in the ground, even those with broken glass in them, are not marked as they would be in the UK. They are not, in fact, marked at all.

I know this, since I just fell in one, walking without looking at the ground. (Dangerous because of the dog shit, in any case. But I digress.) My knee is cut to pieces, my trousers are ruined, my blood has poured over the streets of Nice. And a very nice pharmacist disinfected me and gave me a plaster, all for free. And without laughing at me.

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A blog is born!

This blog will be a record of our move to Nice and my day-to-day life while I'm here. Intended primarily for my friends and family to see what I'm up to (and to inspire feelings of awesome jealousy, because I'm nice like that) I hope this will also be useful for anyone considering a similar move - when I looked, I couldn't find anything that really helped to explain what it would be like; hopefully this will help!

We moved over yesterday - 35 kilos over our weight allowance (not recommended; really quite an expensive way of doing things...) and then had to contend with an evacuation at Gatwick airport, because the fire alarm had been set off. Fire engines all very exciting, and at least it wasn't raining, but it was a bit of a pain with all our stuff. Having waited almost for ever for some family who couldn't be bothered to turn up on time, we finally took off, beginning our big adventure!

Until we find a flat, we're living in a hotel near the beach in the centre of Nice. It happens to have free wi-fi, so that's where this post is coming from. We booked this for a week, assuming we could find somewhere suitable to move into before that time was up - it looks like we might have already found something this morning! (http://riviera.angloinfo.com has lots of good information about moving to the Cote d'Azur, including listings from private landlords looking to rent their properties. (Moving before September can make it tricky to find somewhere - many people do holiday lets from June to August, charging vast amounts for them, and don't want to do long-term lets until September.)

Lunch beckons, so I will continue this later - the European Petanque Championships should not be forgotten!

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