If it's Monday, don't go to Antibes

We're ready to take on the Cote d'Azur! And our first move is to head west down the coast to Antibes.

Let's start with the most important thing - Antibes is pronounced AHNTEEB. Don't say "Anne-Tibbies" and expect anyone to respect you. Also, Cannes (pronouced "can") is not worth visiting, we've read. We didn't bother to go any further west on this trip.

We took the tram to the train station (after mistakenly going underground to underground parking...there is no subway, don't be like us). We stopped by a boulangerie near the station and grabbed pastries because this is France, and you need to maintain your American-ness in getting full on sugar for breakfast and never apologizing for it. Case in point: we had to spend 7 euro to use our credit card, and I had gotten tired of waiting in line to exchange our US dollars so we had no choice. When picking out the pastries, we saw an almond one, and when we pointed to it, the lady behind the counter told us that there were two version, this one, or another that was - you guessed it - filled with chocolate. Which would we prefer? Why do people ask stupid questions?

We were early to the train (for once!) and sat in a second class car. There are cabins (like on the Hogwarts Express) with 4 seats on each side of the bench and shelves above for your things. We sat near the entryway because an older French couple had already taken the window seat and. they. smelled. terrible. Nice enough looking people that had clearly never heard of deodorant. Later we were joined by a girl who could have been Emma Watson's sister (see? Hogwarts indeed) and her teacup size dog, and two other single ladies who were, as we all are, very focused on their phones. The train took around 45 minutes.

Our first goal was to try and see Fort Carré. We walked from the train station to the harbor and along the water front until we reached the fort. We began hiking around the front on Pointe Belaye on the dirt walkway and began to realize that we were on the wrong path. When we doubled back to the entrance, we were bummed to see that it was closed, as it was a Monday, and our planning wasn't foolproof as we had done it sparingly the night before.

So, in an effort to remain flexible, we crashed on the smooth rock beach at the base of the fort, Plage du Fort Carré, where old men were fishing and topless older women worked to further their skin's transformation to a deep brown leather. The water was beautiful, cool and warm at the same time, and very clear. The boats in the distance cut the blues that ran the sky and water together. There was a *shockingly* nice public outhouse (flushable toilet that is revolutionary - get it together, USA) where we could change, but I opted to change under my skirt and be a brave electric white foreigner by going topless until I managed to get my top on. I felt very brazen - so bold, so free, so scandalous! And literally no one noticed, or if they did, cared.

When we had baked long enough, we walked into town through narrow alleyways. We were seeking the Absinthe Bar near the provincial market. We had a chance to wander inside the shop and down the winding narrow staircase to the basement bar, which was totally empty. Maybe they'll be serving later? We'd come back later to find them closed. No idea why.

Next door, a happy coincidence, the Fromagerie l'Etable that we had been seeking! Because, cheese, obviously. Alas, it too was closed. Because it's Monday, and apparently, nothing good can ever happen on Monday. Zero for three. Ok, might as well try the other side of town.

We walked along the waterfront on the tall stone wall enveloping the city, waiting to "feel" where we wanted to eat. I like to get a good vibe about a place. If I'm not going to research it in advance, I want to just have a quaint meet-cute with a restaurant before I swipe right. That's when the waterfront Lebanese restaurant Le Phenicia winked at me. It was delicious! Derek and I shared chicken schwarmas with super fresh tabbouleh and homemade hummus with pine nuts.

We walked off our dinner wandering through the narrow streets and alleyways. A giant castle on the edge of town caught our attention several times - we later realized it was the Picasso museum. We're not big fans of his work (lame as that may be), but if you are, it's highly rated and likely very well done.

It was getting late, but we were on vacation! So to stretch our time out further, we plopped down in a bar with some other passionate locals to watch Morocco play Spain in a World Cup game. We enjoyed our beers and the loud, rambunctious explatives coming out of our comrades as the game ended in a tie. We enjoyed trying to pet the puppies (dogs are often off leash here) who were less than interested in any of us.

Back to the train station (walking in the dark is something we're used to, and Derek has a very keen sense of direction from all of the running and biking he does) which we navigated back to Nice sometime after 10 pm, and since our internal time clocks are so totally off kilter, to plan our next day.