I take a bus to Monte Carlo, mainly to see the beautiful view from the Moyenne Corniche. I got off in Eze, a small highly recommended medieval village perched on the rocks. The site itself is indeed beautiful. Nietzsche was so fond of this place that he spent time there writing the third part of Thus Spoke Zarathustra and a trail now bears his name. It was a long time ago, though. Since then, every square centimetre has been covered with artisan shops. What is sold is very pretty, but the outrageous exploitation of the site makes the experience rather mundane.
I have to wait for the bus until 2:30 p.m. to go to Monte Carlo. Soon the rock appears, just like in the movies. I have the James Bond music in my head. He will probably arrives soon, right? No, he does not comes out of his luxury hotel room before 10pm, fully dressed, ready to seduce and get his magic pen / gun / camera etc.out. The crowd is divided into two: the tourists who are there for the day, who are easily recognizable thanks to their unkempt appearance, and the others, who wear their designer eyewear and clothing (they could be on a James Bond film). The concentration of oversized mouths is impressive. I watch for a while the superficial beauty wandering in search of something, but what? Nothing that has to do with Proust. I go back on the one euro fifty bus towards reality, via the Basse Corniche. I prefer small cafes in Nice.