Nice - you confuse me. I still don't quite know what to make of you and your population of interesting/dodgy peeps, or your pretty and modern boulevards that turn to shifty streets without warning. I loved laying in the sun on your beautiful and bustling beach, but not terribly keen on the rocks that burn and stab my feet, and crumble away steeply causing me to fall over while I am trying to emerge gracefully from water which is so clear and so salty that I float with very little paddle power and my eyes burn a little.

These 3 nights in Nice marked our first of many dorm experiences. The first night Mark and I were separated as I was allocated to a female only dorm. I was really quite sick by now, so I was worried about being that a*hole who keeps the whole dorm awake with my coughing. Instead they kept me awake at 3am by stumbling into the room and yelling "goooood morning!", then inviting some boys into the room to exchange intelligent banter with for about half an hour at top volume before offering one of them a bed above mine. So, guilt free coughing fits at 6am! Tempted to bust in with "whoooooo's got a hangover?!" But I'm not a spiteful girl.

The next morning we ventured to Monaco, the home of the late Grace Kelly and the current Prince Albert and his runaway bride Charlene. The tiny country that sits on the French Riviera and charges a non refundable application fee of 1 million euros. Here Ferraris are as common as Camrys and the taxis are all Mercedes: we posed beside them grinning like idiots and feeling really poor.

We walked up the grand prix race track and then changed our duds to watch the high rollers in the beautiful Monte Carlo casino. Pretty sure the universe is trying to turn me into a gambler - as we approached the first roulette table I thought "wouldn't it be funny if..." and then our jaws dropped as the next spin landed on 13. Now this is just getting ridiculous. Really.

We grabbed the cheapest lunch we could find, and regretted it pretty quickly. Mark ordered an eggplant ham and brie panini, but after one bite realised he'd been served a lettuce, brie and sundried tomato panini. When he told the waiter, we ended up with the owner and 2 waiters huddled around us insisting aggressively that the order was correct, why did Mark change his mind at the last minute, why did you eat it if it was wrong, yes this is the right panini it is the same, it is just french style (oh so in Monaco aubergine is French for tomato and lettuce is french for ham?! That totally makes sense now, sorry dudes!). Eventually they offered to put ham on it and we gave up, then ate in a hurry while they hovered nearby and glared at us.

We finished the grand prix track down at the Marina, where we had a view of the castle and the numerous multi million dollar yachts moored along the pier.

Ahhh one can only dream.

That night I moved into Mark's mixed dorm. We got chatting to our awesome roomies Mariana, Jake and Nick, and then gathered with Jess and some other familiar Busabouters at the beach. Jess brought candles and we set up in a little circle on the rocks for a wine or three. The beach is so pretty at night and full of young people...as we soon found out its also full of crazies.

Like moths to a flame they stumbled over to our candle lit circle and welcomed themselves into the fold. First cab off the rank was Bob Marley. Bob was high as a kite and demanded complete attention from his audience as he rambled on about his appearance as a stuntman in Black Hawk Down, and leant far too close to poor Nick as he talked. Everytime he stumbled away we breathed a sigh of relief, but he just kept coming back.

Next candidate is Louis. Louis is actually a very nice guy, but a little TOO nice. He wanders to my side and with a big grin starts chattering in French. I smile and shrug and ask "Parle Vous Anglais?' He shakes his head no, and plops down beside me. As we chat in two different languages, we manage to exchange a little information with some help from the groups collective but limited french, and everyone has a few laughs. It's fun and Im enjoying myself, but all the while he is edging closer and closer until its rather awkward and the circle is having a good giggle at me. It gets to the point where, even though Marks arm has been around me this whole time, Louis is draped around my other side and Jess has to call out 'Louis she is taken' and we all point to my ring. Louis laughs seemingly embarrassed, then points to his own ringless finger and tells us that he is married with 2 children. We all laugh and it's a bit awkward, then continue chatting.

Meanwhile his friend Saiid joins us and plops down next to Mariana. Mark and Jake get up to go to the toilet. Bad move. Bob Marley returns and Louis invites him to join us, then tells him to go away in French when we whisper a horrified "no no no!" Louis and Saiid start to pull their best French pick up lines on Mariana and I, and it crosses the line when Saiid starts stroking Mariana's hair and Louis 'accidentally' gropes my leg as he reaches for some wine. We shoo them away and they sit back a little, and the boys thankfully return and pull us close. Its no deterrent, and when they again start to edge in we decide it is definitely time to leave!

The cruise to St Tropez that I had my eye on was fully booked, so we spent our final day in Nice shopping and then hanging out with Jake and Mariana. Our guide had recommended a Portuguese Barbeque restaurant and we set out on a quest. When we finally found it they weren't serving the full menu, so instead we wandered the old town and stumbled across an awesome Turkish restaurant. So. Good.

The rest of the afternoon we just lay on the beach. One major disadvantage of these European beaches? The rocks. And not just for the pain of walking on them. In Australia, children build sandcastles on the beach, and sometimes get a telling off for throwing sand at each other. Here, they have rocks. We watched in horror as a little boy tried to throw a rock into the water, overshot it and smashed a sunbaking girl right in the nose. The boy skipped away with his parents none the wiser while the poor girl clutched at her face and ran to the lifeguard for ice.

Ouch.

From our first night in Nice we were told of the Spaghetti and Champagne parties held regularly by the hostel. Every night the rumour mill went into overdrive. Tonights the night! And then nothing. But on our final night Ben and Gem rocked into town and the ever elusive spaghetti party became a reality (although still no champagne party!) The whole hostel showed up and for 2 euro we were given a massive plate of spaghetti and refills of wine, then we kicked on to Wayne's pub. Wayne's is a bit of a cesspool and way overpriced, but we had fun dancing on the tables for an hour before heading home and saying farewell to Jess and Taylor who were headed in a separate direction the next morning, and to Ben and Gem who we won't see again for another week or so.

So that was Nice, it was eventful and we made some great friends, good shopping, good beach, just a little dodgy in parts despite its exclusive French Riviera position. Like I said, I'm undecided..Nice is nice enough, and that's about as conclusive as I can be.