It’s nearly midnight and the place is still going crazy. People are honking horns and shouting to each other; the game ended almost an hour ago. I think all of this talk about the post-Brexit emergence of Germany is really pissing off the French. Tonight they showed Europe who the real chef is— at least in soccer.
We were lucky to score a table just at the edge of the viewing area at a popular cafe. France’s version of a sports bar- a flatscreen begrudgingly rolled out for the patrons. Cooper was our emissary and of course he scored big with a drunk who was holding up one end of a table and offered the charming child the other. Bennett, Samuel and I followed and his glassy eyes widened in surprise (see The Drunks Love Us in This Town from ’14 for more on that theme). I think Samuel thought it was total bullshit until he realized that a crowd amassed along the wall across the street. That rowdy crowd of teenagers couldn’t score even half of a table and were happy to stand for the game and cheer. Samuel is a willing participant when being put in his place; he usually knows when he’s showing his privileged ass.
The experience will be memorable for the energy of watching an important match with the home crowd. When France scored their first goal the place went totally crazy; the kids were amused. Also memorable was the drunk guy who slugged back his cloudy absinthe without regard for the mysterious ritual of sugar cube and water droplets whose necessity is all but canon for certain US hipsters. I got into a serious discussion of the merits of Antibes over Nice with two guys at the adjacent table who were relieved at our arrival for no other reason than to not be further associated with the drink guy. Antibes won hands down, as did France. We ended up watching the last of the match at our apartment where we could hear the commentary and whoop it up in the comfort of our air-conditioned living room (sorry Antibois!).
I hesitantly chose a place one block outside the walls of the Vielle Ville- the pedestrian zone filled with restaurants and shops, contained within the 18th century walls until it spills out into the yacht harbor. With so much to do in the safety and familiarity of Vielle Ville, my kids think of it as home. But…my American kids need two things in their lives— space and air-conditioning. I just couldn't find both in the Old Town, so I sacrificed the quaint cave kitchen and rooftop balcony for modernity this time.
We came in yesterday about 8 hours after we were supposed to arrive. Our original flight was canceled and although we got rerouted almost immediately, the only way to Nice was via a four hour layover in Chicago and a three hour layover in Frankfurt. The boys did not complain once until the final two blocks before our final destination to meet our host, when every bag became impossible to carry. Packing for only 5 weeks instead of three months seemed easy enough; even with two skateboards and a half dozen gis to donate to the Judo studio, we only brought one large suitcase, two roll-aboards and one backpack per kid.
With just a few hours of daylight after our host finished showing us around the apartment, we hit the streets to check out what had changed. There was a little melancholia accompanying us on our walk down memory lane. A tree at the park had been chopped down. I’m sure Bennett and Cooper were disappointed when it didn’t seem as big as they remembered. Cooper noticed some graffiti on one of the play structures and I really think he was about to cry. Our favorite cafe had changed ownership and decor, and the boys considered that their favorite waitress was probably gone too. But then - there was the carousel and the gelato stand, and more funny stories started coming out. The boys remembered their short cuts through town. They begged to stop at different restaurants and argued about which beach or park to visit the next day. Oh, the new spot for the English Bookstore is much better than the old spot which was dank and smelly and bad for the books; and oh look- the same guy is at the Snack Instant! It was all coming back.
We returned absolutely exhausted to our apartment one block into new territory, but somehow in just the right place.
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