Regular readers will know I've been away. This is the news from Thursday until Monday.
Thursday we drove to the Hoilday Inn, M4 J4, which MrsA had managed to sort out a room for £60 including 8 days car parking. Perfect for out needs. Having sorted that out, and done a double take at the £280 walk-in rate, we caught a bus to a place called Hounslow (Where I think my mate Mohammed used to live, but I didn't see him there, so I suspect he was lying). We had to change buses about 3 times and get on the one behind for no apparent reason, too. Which was quite exciting. On reaching Hounslow we went on the Underground to Waterloo, so we had to change as Hounslow is on the Picadilly Line and Waterloo isn't. After we emerged from the metal tube of conveyance, it was raining quite a lot. Nevertheless, we soldiered no and after a few wrong turns around the South Bank, joined the queue for The Bubble with David Mitchell. Cutting a story short, he and Robert Webb were brilliantly funny, and DM is a charming and engaging host. The two women on it were rubbish. After that, we went back to the hotel, getting in about midnight for a 5am start.
On Friday, we groggily arose and had a shower and the taxi was on time and we were waiting in the departures lounge at 0610. There were no body scanners which disappointed me slightly, but one cannot afford to not be vigiliant in this day of terrorism so I had to take my belt off instead. The flight was a bit under two hours and BA's service was at its usual high standards. I really don't understand why anybody would fly with anyone else. After landing, it was raining. We grabbed a coffee and the girl behind the tourist information failed her saving throw against my Charm (+35 for 10 seconds on target, the French usually have a high Base resistance to this), and she gave up the information that it was the number 98 bus I needed. This cost 4 Euro, and the ticket allowed me on to the Trams, Buses and something else all day. Which, I have to say is pretty decent value for money. We found the Hotel after walking the wrong way up the road and it was on the 3rd floor, opposite a Solicitor's Office. Our room was nice (we had the Oriental Room at Hotel Wilson). As it was early, we went for a walk to explore our surroundings.
The old town in Nice is a maze of very narrow streets full of little shops, bars and restaurants. There was a flwoer market on, which was lovely, and after about an hour or so of wandering about, we settled down and had a late lunch of Crepes. I had an Oringina, as they tast so much better in France than anywhere else in the world. We walked about a bit more, ending up in a bar on the seafront, next to a casino, where the waiter was most excellent, and had a some drinks (2 pints of beer and 2 bottles of Leffe came to about £25) and then retired for an afternoon nap, as it had been a very long day so far. In the evening, we returned to the old town and had a meal (14 Euro for three courses), and a demi caraffe of wine, which was perfectly serviceable. We fancied a drink and managed to walk into a pub which had Austraian and English staff and was full of Australian and WEnglish people, so we drank up and fucked off sharpish. After that, we went home to bed, and were only briefly disturned by an American girl's voice coming in from outside at about 2am.
The enxt day was spent wallking around the old town again, and we went up to the site of the old fort, overlooking the town and the bay, which was beautiful, as it was warm and sunny, but everso slightly windy. We ate lunch up there and admired the views, as they were most excellent. After lunch, we walked back down and went for a walk through town and along the seafront where we had a beer on the beach (Stella Artois over there is actually drinkable and frightenly expensive at £4 for 250ml) and then along to another bar on the ebach where we ahd another demi carraffe of wine. Back home for another afternoon nap, and then we went onto the market again, and ate in a restarant (23 Euro set menu, 30 Euro bottle of wine) where the food was average, but the wine was good. We went to a place called Les 3 Diablos where beer was still expensive but the service was brilliant, and then off to bed.
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
_________________
Mr Chris wrote: MaliA isn't just the best thing on the internet - he's the best thing ever.
|