"Vorrei una pizza" o "Je voudrais la pizza"

So, a crisis has occurred in Europe, people! The world has been turned upside down by one, sad happening in France. The pizza is better here than in Italy. Let me write that one more time to drive the point home: THE PIZZA IS BETTER HERE (FRANCE) THAN IN ITALY!

Which is sad, really, but on the whole, Italy has France beat on the whole food thing, especially pasta. And maybe it is just because this section of France has good pizza...after all, I have not eaten it anywhere else. But when I took the first bite of my pizza that was oozing with slabs of melted goat cheese, pieces of prosciutto (uncooked Italian ham) and fresh tomato sauce with MORE cheese, I thought I had died and gone to heaven with every single mouthful. Yum Yum.

But other than that, we have done lots of other interesting things here in Nice. After getting a good nights sleep on Tuesday we awoke Wednesday and decided to explore the city. Along the way, we found the Nice flower market (something it is famous for...and it had lots of pretty flowers) and climbed around what is known as "Old Niece" on the foundations of a former ancient chateau complete with built in cascades and panoramas of Nice. We also saw the beach: it is all rock, no lie at all, but when you sit upon the smooth surface and listen to the clear, Caribbean blue water slurp up against the shoreline it creates a sound not to far from rain pattering atop a roof. It is very relaxing...minus the topless middle aged women, I could do without those.

The next day, after resting some, we decided to go to Monaco, which is within the confines of France but is actually considered its own country. We got on the train and arrived...now, this is the place the rich vacation, so I was expecting a lot. And lo and behold, come to find, it is...Nice except filled with rich people. I mean, the Monte Carlo resort and Casino were nice (I played one slot machine and won thirty five euro, which was kind of cool) it was otherwise very boring. And we got lost...a lot. We wondered at first why that is, as most of the European cities are easy to navigate...but every time we stopped and asked for directions, the rich snooty French person directing us always made a point to mention "oh, you want to go there! But that is such a long walk, you should take the bus."

Did I mention this little country can be walked across in as little as forty minutes? I guess it is true what they say about the French being lazy.

After a lackluster adventure, we decided to go and find some food...and we walked around even more than we did that day. No place was open...everything seemed to have closed at about 8pm...which is so bizzare, because I have been able to get gelato in Italy at around 1am without a problem, and maybe a little earlier than that in America. It is so strange here...France, unlike Italy, runs fast. Really fast, and ends really early. God only knows why, but it was impossible to find a sit down resteraunt priced under forty euro a plate by the time we went out. We settled for some sandwhiches from a little fast food cart and ate them in our rooms.

Today, we had wanted to go to Cannes, but upon researching it, discovered that besides the famous film festival the area was known as being one of the most expensive parts of France. Great, just what a college kid needs, more money to spend. So, we decided to shop. I did not buy much...two articles of clothing and my total came to 20 euro. That was ridiculous, considering the scarf and shirt I bought would have been at least 100 euro in Italy. So, we found something else besides the pizza France does better: clothing prices.

It has been a long few days...relaxing, though. Nick, Sandi and I are having a blast, and it is nice that our hostel has internet (I feel like a member of civilization again). France over Italy: certaintly has its perks, especially in the pricing department (but the food in Ascoli is actually rather cheap, so I really can't say that).

What I can say is that France is like a French speaking America at times (and I know I could be beheaded by a French person if they EVER read this...as I am only basing this on Nice). The culture is similar in the sense that everything gets done quickly, and the people here can have similar attitudes. They have also hopped on the fast food train (there is a McDonalds every block). But in terms of the sights, the two countries are at a dead tie. There is so much stuff to see here. But...at the end of the day, I miss Ascoli. I feel really awkward, though, because I go to Ascoli, I want to be in America! Even when I was in Monoco, I wanted to be in Nice!

Before a left, a psychic gave me a reading. She predicted I was going to Italy without me telling her (which was crazy) and she said that I would grow tremendously from the experience and learn more about myself. That, I can say, is true. But the weird thing she said was "no matter what, you are never going to feel like you are 'home.'" Which struck me as odd, because I have a home in Shrewsbury, MA in the U.S.A. But now I guess I understand...home is where the people are, not the places. And although my home at 8 Bittersweet Circle will always be my "true" home no matter what as my family lives there and I grew up there, I have made life long connections nationwide, and now I can even say WORLD wide! It is nuts, and it is always giving me a travel bug I am sure will never go away.

To think, almost a year ago today, Italy was an idea. This trip was an idea. Now, I am in France. I have eaten so much good food, had to operate in three different languages, and have traversed cross country by myself. I have seen sights I never thought I would see...and I am only twenty years old! I cannot believe it.

Tomorrow, we are going to the world famous Promenade, known for its resteraunts and shopping...and the modern art museum, which will be really fun. Then, we get up early on Sunday and go back "home" to Ascoli, where I will eat an Italian dinner, go to bed, and wake up on Monday to get one of Shereen and Paulo's espresso based beverages I so desperately desire.

...

But now, the ultimate question...can I stomach the American pizza when I return home...?

A bientot!