'Beam me up Scottie' Kirk & Spock had it easy.
Simple plan: from our central location (Nice) head off yin one direction to visit iconic, historic, perfume making town (Grasse). Shop.
Return to central location (Nice), head off in opposite direction to another country, Monaco. Sightsee.
Easy, straight-forward, no problem.
Hee-hee-hee; Yeah Right!!
Breakfast was a slow process, as nothing was set up, and our delightful host insisted on making everything for us as we asked for it (she is a real sweet person) We were relieved that jam comes in a jar and fruit has already ripened on the tree, or we may still have been sitting there. One hour lost.
First stop railway station, we should have known better by now. One lives in hope. Wiser, and another hour lost; we make our way to the 'general' area of the bus-stop. We are on one side of the square, and our bus was on the other. No; we didn't make it.
Thirty minutes later we are seated on our bus and heading for Grasse. Yeah!
Our driver it would appear was an all or nothing guy. All the accelerator or all the brake; the transition between the two not being pretty. I'm sure it was his intention to get the bus on two wheels going round corners at some stage.
What a welcome sight Grasse was; the nearest cafe, two bottles of mineral water, two cafe au lait and our stomachs were somewhere near normal again.
Now did someone say they made perfume here?
A symphony of perfumes was music to Neasies nose. Armed with information from the tourist office we smelt our way down the steep narrow, hardly a pathed street where cars believe they are pedestrians or monuments. We enter the Galinard Boutique shop - yes she can smell - and is now taking on the appearance of a butterfly as it flutters from one fragrance to another. Ohhhh oh a parfumery workshop is also available but the butterfly floats out the door to smell another erotic perfumery and this time it is the Molinard parfumerie where she settles and commences her very own specialty parfum to invoke the senses. Her name is ..... Whilst I am allured to the enchanting foliage, landscape and spectacular views my ever ready camera in hand capturing scenes that would make Lord Tennyson draw breath.
The butterfly emerges, wings slightly ruffled (as her own specialty workshop where she was the sole student) flutters towards me. She has her certificate and own specialty parfum. (Workshop only lasted 40 mins instead of 60 mins)
I look up and notice my monarch butterfly floating out the door and up the so called street towards the original parfumery boutique ( inquisitive) i follow and at least 20 mins later and wallet much lighter we head off to find that dreaded bus as train too far away to walk.