To Rome today…

I’m off to Rome in a few hours!  Hard to believe I’ve never been there….I am so excited to see it.  To walk, eat, drink, and soak it all in.

My day in Nice yesterday was so lovely.  I arrived late Tuesday night from Corsica, low on decision making capacity after all the initerary changes, so I just had dinner in the hotel and called it a night.  I woke up to sunshine and a brilliant blue sky, and after some coffee I went for a walk and then planted myself on the beach for a couple of hours.  I spent that time corresponding with the concierge at my hotel in Rome to arrange a tour (more on that shortly) and researching restaurants that I want to go to with my friend in Paris.  Before my pale Irish skin could burn too much, I packed up and headed back to the hotel to freshen up for lunch.

Lunch was on a plaza close to the beach, and I am so sorry I didn’t get a photo…it was all dappled sunlight and delightful people watching.  There was this one small boy, French, probably about three years old, jumping to try to reach a low hanging branch, and I swear he was at it for at least an hour.  He’d get a running start sometimes, come at it from a different direction other times, and then dissolve into a pile of giggles at himself.  Then he’d get back up and try again.  I’m not sure who was more amused – him, or me with my glass of rosé watching him. 

After lunch I walked to the Chagall museum – about a mile from where I was, so that took up most of the afternoon.  It was a gorgeous walk on such a nice day, and well worth it.  The museum is beautiful.  In addition to a large collection of his works, it has a small theater showing a film about his life, so I sat down and watched for a bit, and here’s what struck me about the great artist’s life: he started over so many times. I won’t get the history right so I won’t try to give you an accurate recap, but he lived in France, Berlin, and Moscow, vacillating between moderate success and total poverty several times, at one point separated from his love, Bella, for four years.  They fled together to the US during WWII, landing in New York.  She died there a few years later, and on returning to France he found his studio looted and all his canvases gone.  So he just went back to painting more.  He found love again, moved to Provence, continued painting and creating well into old age.  I’ve always loved stories of reinvention, of second and third and fourth acts in life.  Maybe it’s my way of warding off a mid-life crisis – if Chagall can keep growing and creating and adding beauty to the world through all that, so can we all.

I ended my day with a walk back down along the ocean.  I loved this scene of four friends playing backgammon (I think that’s what that is) and cards together in the fading light:

My last stop before dinner was to have a glass of wine at the iconic Hotel Negresco.  Built in 1912, it is an almost impossibly grand building, the sort that makes you feel sophisticated just walking into it.

Dinner was simple – mussels and french fries by the water.  I was in bed early, and woke this morning relaxed and ready to head to Rome!  

I’ve arranged a tour tomorrow morning to make sure I see the big sights since this was a very last minute trip and I’ve done zero research.  It would be just like me to wander around Rome for two days and miss seeing, like, the coliseum or something.  Also I understand a tour guide makes the Vatican much easier to tackle.  Thank you for the suggestion, Sarah!  And I have dinner reservations at a restaurant recommended by Bobby Stuckey, so I feel like I have the basics set for a great couple of days in Roma.

More later from the eternal city….

Cheers!

Traveling Girl