Uncanny, Part 1 - 10/15/13

Today got off to a grim start, was terrific in the middle, and ended dismally. We anchored in the harbor at Cannes and took a Princess tour to St. Paul de Vence and Nice. All the British crew members pronounce it "cans," but I'm pretty sure the locals pronounce it "can."

Skip the next paragraph if you are not interested in hearing complaints about how to mismanage a tour office.

We were supposed to meet in the theater at 9 am. Due to the staff's lack of crowd management, the process of finding the correct tour and disembarking was worse than chaotic. 1) several tours were meeting at the same time. There was no information about which long line to get in for which tour and no staff around to direct people. People on the right side of the theater waited in line until they reached the theater entrance and were then told to go in through the left entrance by cutting across three lines. Of course, once they got inside the theater they were told to cross over and sit on the right side by the 5 staff people who were standing there doing nothing much. All of the confusion outside the theater caused people to behave badly and it was not pretty. There was pushing and shoving and nastiness and no one from Princess to keep things under control. 2) They were running 30 minutes behind and they made us sit there watching a continuous loop of the video of yesterday's tour. The decent thing to do would have been to make a ship wide announcement saying they were running behind and would the passengers please wait comfortably in their rooms for an additional 30 minutes. 3) we were finally called to board the tender and were told to go to the forward pontoon. That was not helpful information. They should have said something like this: Take the stairs right outside the theatre down to level 4 to board the tender.

When we finally got to shore, more than an hour after we had left our cabin, we found our bus, with no help from the tour office staff. It was a beautiful brand new motor coach (made in China, I strongly suspect). It still had that new bus smell. By some miracle we got seats in the front, so we had an especially nice view.

We drove through Cannes, but didn't really see much. We drove up into the mountains to a medieval walled village called St. Paul de Vence. This is a charming, picturesque - extremely picturesque - artsy village. In fact, Marc Chagall and his buddies used to hang out here. You can see the village in one of Chagall's well-known paintings. Chagall is buried in the little cemetery here, and if you have to be buried somewhere, it might as well be here.

The iconic tower of St. Paul de Vence

"Amoureux de Vence"

 















 

Chagall's grave: In Jewish tradition, stones are left on a grave to say "I was here and I remember you." Unlike flowers, stones will last for eternity.

The village is perched on a rocky outcrop and has a commanding view of a lovely valley full of farms and attractive villas. The narrow winding streets are paved with small rounded stones laid out in delightful designs. There are art galleries and soap shops and cafes everywhere. 

We picked out a cafe at random and went inside. From the inside we could see a patio in the back and asked if we could sit out there. It was only big enough for 6 tables, but they had a spot for us. As we walked to our table, my breath was taken away by the spectacular view. The patio was actually a balcony that afforded a view of the whole valley. It was so unexpected and so amazing. I ordered a salade nicoise ( when in Rome . . . ). 

Salade Nicoise

Too soon it was time to return to the bus for the next leg of our adventure.

(Continued in the next post)