Wouldn't it Be Nice?

I suspected yesterday, after the series of misfortunes that I suffered, that things would likely get better. I suspected that I had merely encountered a bad spot in the trip, and that while travelling alone would remain a difficult task, I would soon be having much more fun.

I was correct. (However, please ignore the tone of this message if it seems irritable; I am typing from a French Keyboard where the letters a, q, w, m, z and much of the punctuation are misplaced; typing is slow, and making corrections even slower.) Things got much better. After my last update, I washed the 24 hours of train grime off of my body, replaced my smelly clothes with much less smelly clothes, drank water, got away from those horrible Aussie kids and prepared to explore a new city: Nice, on the French Riviera.

As my brother recently emailed me: "Nice isn't that Nice." True. So far it appears unexceptional, yet for now I think it will do. It is a good base for the rest of the Cote D'Azure, my hotel is extremely close to the train station and I am only 2 hours away from my next destination, which I hear is a very special place.

I spent about half an hour wandering throughout the Old City of Nice, looking for a restaurant that Let's Go described as "well priced" "good" and "Nicoise". Ended up being a perfect choice. I ordered some sort of thickish zuchinni quiche and some wine (cold! refreshing!), both good and well priced! Two very drunk French men sat down next to me and after about 15 minutes of hugging each other and commenting on the women that passed by, started to speak to me. Unlike many people I have met on the road, they spoke neither English, nor Spanish. Our "conversation" consisted of my bad spanish, the few words of Italian they knew, lots of repeated French and lots of pantomime. I gathered that they were brothers ("Mon Frer!!!!" and pointing at the other) and that one of them wanted to do something to me with his heart ("mon couer!!!" and a scooping and gathering motion). Without my prodding, they bought me a beer and were soon kicked out of the patio.

Then the restaurant let me purchase a 7 Euro plate of super delicious spagetti for only 5 Euros after I mentioned that I had just been robbed.

The speed and gusto with which I consumed the pasta created laughter and a thumbs up by a couple sitting at the next table, both French, the man about 40 and the woman about 65. They communicated that they were fluent in English and invited me to their table. We talked for a long time, they bought me a chick pea pancake. The woman had lived in the United States for 30 years, and had married the man 5 years ago although 25 years his senior. Halfway through the conversation they invited me to dinner at their house, and I agreed to go. Thierry said he would pick me up at 5:30 the next day at my hostel.

Though it was early, I was still extremely tired from the train ride, and from so much walking, so took the dark and dangerous solo walk home back to the red light district where my hostel is (I did not realize it was the red light district when I checked in.) I walked quickly, and imagined what I would do to any would be mugger if I encountered one. Most of these imaginations involved a solid punch to the face with my "Let's Go Europe" Guide.

Back at the hostel I met the others in the room, one of the best bunches so far. 3 more Australians and a German named Jannes, with whom I hung out today. I told the story of my train fiasco and my dinner invitation and Jannes told the story of a gang fight right outside of our hostel when he stepped outside to make a phone call. All of these stories got big laughs.

And thus was another night on the road. Another night in a hostel bunk bed, clutching my backpack to my chest while I slept. Another night of bizarre dreams.

I am amazed that so many people do this and with so much ease.

Strangely, the more difficult this trip becomes (lately it has been getting easier), the more I am glad I came. I am enjoying a lot that I see and love meeting so many new people, but I also like knowing that "I can do this." I'm tired of hearing about others taking long solo trips and thinking "man...I wonder if I could handle that."

And sometimes, when I get in a bad spot, I think, "Sure would be nice to have someone here with me", but I also see how dependant I become whenever I DO have someone to help me. I like getting myself unlost rather than relying on someone else's better sense of direction. I like eating where I want to eat. Being cheap when I want to be cheap and splurging when I feel like splurging.