(Almost) not even scared

20160923_185702After twenty-five hour flight and ten hours in transit between Auckland, Melbourne and Dubai, arriving in Nice is first and foremost a relief. The rather casual attitude customs pleasantly surprises me: I think we already forgotten the attacks, but soon crossed the customs, I encounter a strong military army presence that gives chills in the back. The military is everywhere in the city and do not fail to remember that it is always alert although all traces lately has been removed, except for the memorial, which recently filed flowers alongside lint beginning to sag. The Nice mention nothing, eager no doubt to forget as quickly as possible the horror that befell them. They are gracious and grateful tourists slowly return to their city. As for me, it almost empty tourist like.
The sun is always warm on the Promenade des Anglais and the beach is crowded with well-tanned body who do not fear the sun. After many years in New Zealand where the sun burns the second or third degree in a few minutes in summer (and where the skin cancer rate is one of the highest in the world), this show seems odd. No trace of Burkini or policeman chasing. Nice is so well known that it seems to be already come, even if it is the first visit. I was immediately struck by the atmosphere of sweetness and kindness that prevails. It is a city where one simply feels good. The Nice appear relaxed and affable. It is my pleasure, on my first trip to discover that James Joyce spent some time there and that the first lines of Finnegan’s Wake, or walking down the street or Napoleon lived for a time. I walk aimlessly near the port, in the antique district and Market Streets. Tomorrow I take the bus to Monte Carlo for the pleasure of enjoying the view from the Moyenne Corniche.


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