Right now I am being hurled light years into the the French countryside by the tgv train. We are on our way to the Cote D'Azur. Our next stop: Antibes. Being no stranger to public transportation, this is totally f'n cool. Not like on Bart where you know this train is slow and yes, you will be late. We are whizzing past beautiful golden fields separated by buursts of green and blue of the countryside foliage, lakes and streams.
Jamie has really embraced trying to speak French. He ordered our breakfast this morning.
Parisian kids have dre beats headphones as a fashion accessory
Samsung has captured the european market. Everyone has a Samsung and seem to prefer it. Silly French.
Everyone smokes, even at breakfast.
They throw cigarette butts into plants and there's dog s*** everywhere
Everything smells like urine. Putrid old smelling urine.
But there's street cleaning everyday...Go figure.
Five hours later, we get to our host's house conveniently located near the beach. Sanja gives us the quick and dirty of Antibes. So we freshen up and head towards the old city. This place used to be part of Italy until the 1800s and still has most of its signs in Italian. Its actually quite humid, but tolerable if you don't break out into a run. We took things easy. We walked hand in hand thru its narrow, cobblestone streets. We hop in and out of closet sized stores to check out anything that caught our eye. What a great way to keep falling in live with your future husband. We eat at some overpriced joint called Le Jardin. On our way back we take the waterfront path back. This time the moon was blood red, like the red of a Egypt, Moses, and a coming plague. Freaky.