Showing posts with label tourists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tourists. Show all posts

Public transport in Nice, France

Or, How to use the tram.

This seems to be something people struggle with, so I thought I'd be brave and explain how it works, in the hopes that more people going on holiday will google holiday in Nice, and then find out all about the public transport system before they get here, rather than as they go.

(Yes, there is some self-interest here. Who'd have thought?)

OK, so, public transport in Nice itself can be boiled down to 3 main types: tram, train and bus.

The tram is the easiest, there are only two lines: one running in one direction, one running in the other. You buy your ticket before you get on the tram - each tram stop has a ticket machine, which takes credit cards and cash. You can buy either a 1 euro solo ticket (one use only, can be used for a transfer within 74 minutes onto the bus, or a later tram, but not a tram heading in the opposite direction, as far as I remember. You should check that at the Ligne d'Azur website though...) or you can buy a 4 euro day pass, valid until the end of the service for that day (or possibly midnight, whatever) rather than for 24 hours. This is valid on buses or trams, in any direction, as many times as you like for that day. You can't buy a ticket on the tram, you must buy it beforehand, and then validate it on the tram, by sticking it into the little box with a slot in. The box will whir and then spit your ticket back out. Remember to pick it up, particularly if it's a day pass.

The bus is more complicated, and I'm assuming if you're getting the bus, you already know where you're going. You can buy a ticket on the bus, the same solo/day pass options exist, and a day pass that you bought earlier for the tram works on the bus too. If you're getting a bus out of town - to Monaco, or the airport, or St Paul de Vence or wherever, the day pass probably won't work, so you'll need to buy another ticket. With the exception of the airport buses, these only cost a euro ish each way anyway, so it's not a major expense. Airport buses are more expensive - but the day pass might work with them, thinking about it. The ticket they sell you on the airport buses is a day pass - check with the driver, but don't be too surprised if you end up having to pay for a new one. Once you have your ticket, remember to validate it in the little box by the driver (don't try and get in at the back door, some drivers are bad tempered and will shout at you for it, thinking you're trying to steal a free ride) - it, too, will whir and spit your ticket back. Pick it up before walking to find a seat.

Train, well, you presumably all know how trains work. Concept is the same the world over. (If you live in the US/other transport deprived country and actually haven't taken a train before, well, let me know and I'll get more specific if need be :P ) Nice station has a lot of ticket machines all over the main concourse, and a manned counter which always has a long queue. I'd use the machines if possible - they usually take both cards and cash, even for small amounts. Once you have your ticket, you need to make sure you stamp it in the small yellow/orange composteur machines. This puts a time and date stamp on it, and without that stamp, it's the same as if you hadn't bothered buying a ticket. You're still liable for penalty fares and things, if your ticket is checked. So do remember to stamp it. They are usually placed near the ticket machines, and more sensible stations (Note: Nice isn't one of them) will have composteurs on the platforms. (In Nice, they're only at the entrance to the platforms. Compost before you run for the train.)

So, yeah, basic run down on public transport. This will hopefully stop you looking as utterly confused as the tourists who wandered through the whole tram looking for somewhere to buy their tickets...

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Paris: Thursday

[Again, hopefully another scheduled post, if I set the settings right this time...]

Thursday was another touristy day – we went to the Trocadero, saw the Eiffel Tower again and then went out to La Defense and the Grande Arche de la Defense. Photos, as usual, will be below when I get them online. That or maybe I’ll crete new posts with photos in, just because I can. Consistency is over-rated.

Lunch was in St Michel – somewhere where many things they had in their menu were things I could eat. I had an actual choice for once! And the food was lovely – I had chicken breast in a balsamic vinegar glaze and rice with multi-coloured peppers, followed by pineapple carpacio in a caramel sauce.

Dinner was again touristy, as we ate just below Sacre Coeur, at the Maison Rose. Apparently the subject of a famous painting in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, and definitely the subject of many, many photos by practically everyone who passed. After the first hundred or so people took photos, I was feeling I might be missing out, so took my own. It’s better than the one they use on the cover of their menus, which is frankly dire.

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Sunshine - it's summer after all

Apparently the news in the UK has been full of the woe that has hit our little corner of the world. (I can think of no other reason my grandmother would fear I was drowned...) Fear not, faithful readers, we are coping just fine. There have been some transport problems, but our little village has been fine - even the tourists are fine.

To demonstrate, here's a photo of the beach today - as you can see, the sky is blue, the sun is out, and the sea is lovely and clean again. The large boat in the distance is the tourists.

The sun has got his hat on...

Also, apparently lizards like sunshine after rain - I nearly trod on three as I was going down the stairs to the beach this afternoon. Here's a photo of one little one that stood still for a while.

Lizard

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Running, tourists, and a short excerpt of my story

I went for an actual run today - only 20 minutes, but that's more than I've felt up to for days. I must be getting better... I met a bunch of Spanish tourists on the way back who were lost and looking for the train station. They thought I was German, so imagine their surprise when I gave them directions in more or less coherent Spanish. I was heading roughly that way, so thought I'd show them where they ought to go anyway - they were nice people, and called me guapa a lot. Given that I was a sweaty mess, I think they probably have low standards, but I'll take compliments where they lie, I'm easy like that.

When I got home, I found out there are no trains today because of the bad weather. Oops. It's the thought that counts, right?

Since whenever I sit at home trying to edit, I get distracted by shiny internet, I'm going to take our mini computer (Paul's, really, but I've adopted it because it's teeny and cute) to the cafe by the beach and work without distraction there. Maybe a change of scenery will help inspire me.

I'm going to try putting the first couple of hundred words of my story in a spoiler box, below, so that those of you who aren't interested can skip over it and those of you who've been hassling me to let you read it can see whether you're really interested after all. Assuming the spoiler box works...


Spoiler:
I'd had the best of intentions. This hadn't helped much at the trial.

I had been kneeling in the dust since dawn. My throat was parched and sweat trickled down my back and between my breasts. My arms were lashed in front of me to a short stake. That would hold me up, after the firing squad. I liked to think they would regret it afterwards – I knew them, after all – but they would shoot anyway. The Ducal Guard were trained well.

My hair tickled my face. I wasn't used to it being this long, but a few months in prison had seen it grow and no one was keen to show kindness to a traitor. The Duke held grudges.

The door to the palace opened and the Commander of the Guard stormed out. Her face taut with anger, Krystal stalked across the square towards me. Tall, slim, in her early forties, Krystal was a gifted soldier and an excellent Commander. The Guard lived for her approval, and were terrified of her temper, both with good reason. She and I had been lovers, once and experience suggested that whatever she was about to say to me, I wasn't going to like it. When you're about to face a firing squad, there's almost no good news.

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Tourists

Tourists who travel in loud, shouty packs that stream past my bedroom window, screeching at each other, should be banned. Or at least fined, to pay for double glazing and/or ear plugs for the people they're disturbing.

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Copyright Nicole Hill, 2009-2010

All photos and text are mine - ask me *before* you use them elsewhere. Don't just copy them and hope I won't notice, it's theft.

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