Shoulda, woulda, coulda
An immersive moment
Pidge Practices Patience
Shoulda, woulda, coulda
I hate regret. It is such a feeling of disappointment, but there is a part of me that regrets not giving more time for Nice. Our whole adventure was already so short and, sadly, Nice only got a few hours of our itinerary for lunch before we needed to head on to the next destination. I always say ‘shoulda, woulda, coulda’ as you cannot be satisfied with every decision, but I definitely would recommend to take extra time in Nice. It is by far one of the places in the world I hope we visit again for multiple days.
An immersive moment
From the airport, a quick bus ride takes you right downtown dropping you off in the midst of the city. The skinny roads were lined with French style architecture and motorbikes. And a few short blocks takes you to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. I felt so welcomed at the rocky beach as we had some of my favorite memories in this same sea from our trip to Greece. They were such familiar waves that directed us to a local little restaurant where we enjoyed an amazing Truffle Pizza with a flavorful Olive Oil on the beach. I am pretty sure that olive oil contained a whole garden including rosemary, garlic, and thyme, but by far the best olive oil we surprisingly had our entire trip. Such a light flavor complimenting the pizza crust that I think David would fall off his tiny butt for.
As we just sat at the table with our backpacks next to us on the rocks, for a second I forgot that we were actually across the world and that we still had a life/career/drama back in the US. How euphoric to be free from the stress and constant anxiety. It was such an immersive moment to be with the man I have fallen so deeply with and not to have even a pause about the personal chaos back at home. I know that is the feeling I have always dreamed of and that I have been chasing since.
After finishing such a blissful meal, we thought we were asking an innocent question to our waiter if we could walk on foot to Monaco, but after seeing the waiter’s reaction, we realized we touched a sort of taboo subject. The eyes of the waiter got large in judgment, disgust, but also pity knowing we just did not know what was ahead for us. (See Monaco if you want to know why).
Pidge Practices Patience
Well after finding out we could not walk to Monaco, we had to find another option. David indicated that we could find a taxi for such a short ride saving us time. Mind you, we were not near the airport, so taxis are not super common roaming the city, but David was set on a taxi. We trekked off for at least 35 – 40 minutes as we slowly became more and more tired. I suggested we stop to do a quick search for another option, but he was still confident we would find a taxi the further out we walked.
We continued to have no luck finding a taxi, but did find two younger french men who I was able to successfully communicate with about where to locate one. As we strode off, I had begun looking up train stations nearby and knew it would be a walk. I started directing us towards the station instead when we actually surprisingly had a taxi pass us. David flagged it down with such hope and confidence as his patience began to thin. The taxi driver quoted us a ridiculous 75 euros for a short 10 minute drive to Monaco where David was tempted to accept to save his feet, but I encouraged that we are not that far from the train.
With at least another 18 mins and a fading David, I navigated us to the train station. Almost ironic that after such a euphoric lunch, we found ourselves in such an anxious moment just trying to get to the next part of the adventure.
Although I am grateful for the small tests of patience for David and I, I cannot wait to see what Nice has in place for us upon our return.
