Nice was nice. I was so happy to be there after that horrible night I spent in Ventimiglia that I didn't mind waiting a few hours to check in. Next day I walked the entire boardwalk along the beach. It was sunny and warm and people were out jogging, skating, strolling. I spread a towell on the beach and caught some rays. The beach wasn't sand but instead tiny pebbles that "tinkled" as the waves washed over them and then pulled them back out to sea. It was the most enchanting, soothing sound. I spent several hours dozing, sunning, listening. Ah, the French Riviera. I couldn't believe I was there. What an idyllic spot to live. So peaceful and relaxed. Full of beautiful people, buildings, food. I want to live there. Spent one more day wandering around the town, harbor, and beach. I was amazed that a place so close to Italy could be so altogether different.

Caught a train to Aix-en-Provence but I couldn't see any station signs and the announcements were in French and spoken so quickly that I missed it. By the time I figured that out, I had missed Avignon and all other stops in Provence so I continued on to Lyon. Spent an hour looking for a place to stay but everything was full so I continued on to Dijon. There were few hotels and hostels, very expensive, booked up. I spent two hours looking for a reasonably priced place still wearing my pack and sweating profusely. Stupid rip-off Dijon and their damn mustard. I was tired, sweaty, dirty and disgusted. In desperation, I started following a fellow traveller since he seemed to be looking for the same type of lodging and appeared to know where he was going. He ended up staying in a hostel that looked like a YMCA for 66 Euros! They were gouging prices like all the rest as it was 7:30 p.m. and places were filling fast. He gave me the name of a small hotel off the beaten track that he had found for 39 Euros. The owner had a cigarette hanging from her mouth, the place was filled with smoke, and pretty shabby so I didn't hold much hope for the rooms. It turned out that the rooms upstairs were really nice, clean, comfortable. You just never know. Next day I checked out the square, a couple of beautiful churches, and had the most amazing cappucino with the creamiest, richest, real whipped cream ever in a quaint cafe. I sat and had another and read for a good portion of the morning, people watching in the square.

Caught the train to Paris in the afternoon and arrived at 5:00 p.m. It was getting dark, I was completely clueless, cold, and had no reservation. My recent lack of free wi-fi had prevented me from booking anything since I arrived in France. Stupidly, I decided to pick a metro station near the major attractions to start my hunt for a bed. Big mistake. I walked for two hours and there wasn't a room available anywhere. Finally figured out that I needed to be in a different part of town so I headed to the metro and a ticket agent directed me to a metro that had lots of hotels near it. It was cold and windy in the station and I couldn't figure out how to buy a ticket from the complicated machines that were only in French. I was near tears. In desperation, I squeezed through the plexiglass exit door as someone came out and got into the metro! I heard an alarm but just kept going, hoping I wouldn't get chased down! Got off the metro at Gare du Nord and there were tons of hotels. I walked into the first one I saw, Ibis, and got a room for 120 Euros. Ouch! Didn't care! I wasn't in the room 30 minutes when the ceiling started leaking and dripping on my nice, comfy bed. Sooo...they moved me to a luxury suite on the top floor! King bed, big screen, huge bathroom, the works! Next morning I hit the free breakfast with gusto. Seriously good food and I ate so much that I could barely walk to the elevator. Checked out of my palace and walked down the street to my newly reserved basic hostel.

Spent eight hours at the Louvre the next day and saw only the paintings and sculptures! One could spend a week there easily. It was fabulous. Next day I checked out the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, and walked several miles along the Seine. It was chilly, grey, and dreary. It's impossible to hit every city during it's prime weather seasons and this was far from it. Paris is a beautiful city and I'm sure that it's really dazzling in the Spring, Summer, and Fall, but it was 30 degrees and drizzling so I split after one more day of roaming around to the sunny south again.

The train to Avignon cost me 75 Euros for a three-hour trip! France was crazy expensive. Right up there with Australia. There wasn't a bargain to be had anywhere. Found a modern, new hostel in the center of town. The bunks had privacy curtains around them! This was by far the best idea I've seen in a hostel. The staff was nice, the beds comfortable, and I met some nice fellow travellers there so I stayed for a few days. I wandered the narrow streets ducking into cafes for pastries and coffee. Found a tiny restaurant on a backstreet that served fabulous soup. I ate there every day. Just soup, bread, and coffee. Pure heaven. There's no denying that the French know their way around a kitchen. Found a cathedral with lovely, shaded grounds and benches. A chubby, long-haired tabby named Matou (one of the maintenance workers called him that) who lived at the cathedral was fond of jumping on my lap and being petted. I don't know who he belonged to, if anyone, but he definitely wasn't missing any meals. I hiked up to the Avignon Cathedral, a beautiful Romanesque structure with a gilded statue of the Virgin Mary as it's main attraction. It was surrounded by a gorgeous park that afforded great views of the city. Fooled around there for a long while feeding the ducks and walking along the shady paths. Checked out the Palais des Papes and walked the perimeter of the massive wall that surrounds the city. I stayed another few days sipping cappucino's, sampling Belgian beers with my new friends, feasting on fabulous food, and generally just hanging out.

France was nice but I was off to sunny Spain for a bit more of a bargain...