Oh, that’s Nice!

It’s long past time I had a crummy pun as a title for a post (Was ‘crummy pun’ one as well?). Yes, I am in Nice, where a week long stopover turned into a fortnight with surprising ease!

Operating out of the excellent Meyerbeer Beach Hostel, I’ve had a chance to explore Nice on the cheap, mostly on foot. It’s a great city – pretty, busy and clean. There’s lots to do for visitors and myriad cafés, restaurants and bars, creating a great atmosphere. The bulk of the city is comprised of four- to six-storey apartment buildings, the ground floor of which are almost always businesses of varying types. As a result, a walk around the town can often turn in to at least a window shopping trip. The tram line running through the heart of the city is situated on the wide Avenue Jean Médecin, where the commercial centre of Nice can be found. At the southern end the area becomes more geared towards tourists, while the northern end near the Nice Ville station is what could be considered the shopping district. Locals refer to it as L’Avenue, and it is an easy place to spend a good part of the day wandering around.

Shopping does seem to be a big attraction here, especially as retail therapy for all those who felt their purse strings tighten during a trip to Monaco. It certainly isn’t all though. The city has some excellent cultural spots with the Matisse museum, the castle and ruins, and the observatory to name just three. The beach is always there to be enjoyed and this time of year feels very spacious as its seven kilometre span provides more than enough room for both tourists and locals. Monaco is a short train ride or picturesque bus ride away to the east, as well as Cannes, Antibes and Marseilles to the west. Both the bus and rail travel are great value and well worth exploiting for a couple of day trips.

Anyone traveling to Nice must make time in their trip to spend a day wandering around in the old town. Under the shadow of the ruins, with its tightly packed streets and Mediterranean vibe, it really is what traveling to southern France is all about. A great deal of the city’s history nestles here, with yet more churches, museums and markets to visit. The wine museum and the ‘Market of Flowers’ get a mention, the latter stretching all along the southern edge of the old town, and selling much more than just flowers. The city has many markets that spring up regularly, this one is certainly a highlight.

During my stay I was lucky enough to catch the Nice leg of the international catamaran racing. It’s not quite the Americas Cup, but it was still very entertaining for a sailing bod like me to watch.

It would have been rude of me to visit for two weeks and not sample the nightlife at least a little, and worse still not to post about it. Going out in Nice is good fun, but you do need to know what you’re looking for. There’s a wide variety of bars and several stay open well into the night. The drink selection could often be better (and cheaper) than it is, and the entertainment varies from dancing in a salsa bar to dancing on the tables in Wayne’s irish pub. The youth hostels organise regular bar crawls – three times a week in the summer, and for the more sophisticated traveller, the casino at Le Negresco Hotel comes with high recommendations. Not firsthand evidence, I hasten to add! budget travelling doesn’t really allow for that sort of thing.

Keeping on the topic of budgets, there are several hostels in Nice. The Hotel/Hostel Meyerbeer is probably the best. Dorms are fairly cheap, ranging from 14-25 euro depending on the season, except for Monaco Grand Prix week. It’s clean and well maintained, and the staff are very friendly and helpful. The kitchen and common area is great for socialising and groups of travellers often made plans with each other over the included breakfast. The kitchen itself is well equipped and it’s easy to make meals if you want to save some money. All in all, I wish more hostels were like this one!

Thats all I have to say, really. An easy bus ride down the beach to the airport and I’m off on my way again. Back to Florida for the Fort Lauderdale boat show with any luck. Au revoir!

Punching Above My Weight

When you think of extravagant places to do your travelling, what springs to mind? If Monte Carlo isn’t on your list I think you might be doing it wrong…

This place has a reputation, and it is clearly well earned. In just one short hour spent walking the start of the grand prix circuit, so much of the city’s character is on display, and you come to realise just why the race is so prestigious. The glamour of the casino is no longer hiding behind grey armco barriers.

From my shady spot in the Princess Charlotte park where I write this, I can hear the bells of L’Eglise Sainte Devote ringing for Sunday afternoon mass. A tourist bus drives past in the shape of a steam locomotive, and the tourists onboard gleefully make race car noises at the hairpin behind me. The city doesnt just appear extravagant, it lives and breathes it. Making a dishevelled english traveller stick out like a sore thumb. Nevertheless, I am a travel blogger, and that is what I will do after this selection of pictures from the first half:

Up the hill from St. Devote – it’s steeper than you think!


The famous Casino.

Casino Square

The hairpin and the Fairmont hotel.

Classic car for sale.

The second half of my journey took me past the prestigious Monaco Yacht Club and down to the waterfront. The tents and marquees that were in place for the Yacht Show were still being stripped down, so while the walk round the track was still fascinating for me, the pictures don’t make for great journalism until reaching Le Rascasse. Known to many as the penultimate corner of the racetrack, Le Rascasse is a party hotspot for locals and visitors alike, transforming from a restaurant to a club in the evenings. Many a yachtsman was to be found in there late Friday night…

Portier


The tunnel


The train I mentioned earlier


Ok, so it’s not a grand prix car, but it’s still a Ferrari in the tunnel!



The Côte D’Azure is so-called for the colour of the water.

The boat show dominated the swimming pool area all week.


La Rascasse


Rascasse corner


Anthony Noghes

Fangio

By this point in the trip I had become rather peckish, so I broke away from the home ‘straight’ of the race track to hunt down somewhere for lunch and was pleasantly surprised to find a little pizzeria called Le Bambi. After walking through the busy and expensive looking Rue Princesse Caroline I’d almost given up before stumbling across this place on Rue Princesse Antoinette. Very agreeable prices for Monaco (and for the Côte D’Azur in general) and fantastic service. A real hidden gem that I’m sure I’ll be patronising again should I return.

And that was that. Monaco is famed for being the playground of the rich, but it’s not impossible to enjoy on the (fairly) cheap. I shall have to have a better run at it in a few years time with more euros to my name and see if I can offer some advice to the more affluent traveller.


A view of the sunset from our apartment in Beausoleil

Next stop – Nice. Watch this space.

Party In The City Where The Heat Is On

Miami is a city with a party reputation, and it doesn’t disappoint. From arriving in the Miami Beach area to leaving twenty-four hours later I didn’t stop enjoying myself. It was great to meet up with the guys from camp and share some travel stories. Shortly after arriving we hit South Beach where the hot sand, bright sun and clear water created the perfect atmosphere for some relaxed beers. Theres something a little bit special, too, about looking out at the water and knowing theres nothing else between you and Africa, 3000 miles away.

After a quick dinner at the hostel it was party time. The city takes on a new vibe after dark, with bars and clubs all over town, thoroughly spoiling you for choice. As is often the way with hostels, our group had merged with a couple of others and our merry brigade made the rounds. Theres plenty going on around the bars too. With a picture speaking a thousand words, we’ll just leave it at this shall we?

I won’t lie, not long after this was taken my memory of events is hazy at best and from what I do recall, most of it isn’t repeatable here anyway. I did at least wake up where I was supposed to, and successfully navigated to the train, a surprisingly cheap and effective trip back to Fort Lauderdale.

Miami definitely gets a recommendation. Do give it a whirl – I know I’ll be back again at some point.

From here the blog follows me home then out in search of a career on superyachts. The next location may surprise you!

Here we Chic-a-go!

Changeover weekend brought with it a day off in Chicago. What a city! I went exploring with six other counsellors from camp and had an amazing day visiting some of the best spots in town.

We started with the obligatory trip up Sears tower (now Willis tower) to get a good view of the city. From the 103rd floor views don’t get much better, and remembering seeing Ashley do a handstand in the glass viewing box sticking out of the side of the building still gives me the chills. If you visit Chicago, Willis tower is a must, well worth the $19 entry fee.

From there we hunted around for somewhere to eat that wasn’t McDonalds or Starbucks and were pleasantly surprised by a little diner called Luke’s, a couple of blocks down from the tower. The place is known for their Italian beef, and didn’t disappoint.

After an amble around the ‘magnificent mile’ staring at skyscrapers and doing a bit of shopping the group moved on to Millennium Park. The architecture there is superb, and there were lots of good photo opportunities, particularly at the bean.

As we wandered through the park the unmistakable sound of an open-air concert could be heard in the distance. It was coming from a stage in the middle of the park, and turned out to be for the Taste of Chicago festival. It was free entry, and there were food and drink stalls as far as you could see. Making our way to the stage we heard ‘I Need a Dollar’ followed by ‘The Man’ – we had walked into a free Aloe Blacc gig!

Ears ringing and hearts singing, we headed towards the marina so that I could stare longingly at all the boats. Shlomi had befriended Mun, a Korean news reporter, during an impromptu interview at the festival, and when we bumped into her again she tagged along with us for a while. This provided some spontaneous interviews with all kinds of people on the waterfront, held by Shlomi. the crowd included some ecstatic Germans fresh off the back of the world cup win. The camerawork comes courtesy of yours truly, hence the quality.

Our walk concluded at Navy Pier, although time was short and we needed to eat. After much deliberation the group wandered in to Bubba Gump Shrimp. Not the most Chicago-ey of places, but a lot of fun nonetheless. The food was hearty and the drinks were spectacularly amusing (Mine came in a flashing cup!). A happy end to a fantastic day, in a city that is just begging me to come back. Hopefully in the not-too-distant future!

A different kind of adventure

Heathrow airport is a crowded place. Hundreds of flights full of hundreds of thousands of people makes for a departure lounge where it’s next to impossible to find an empty seat, let alone a specific person. Yet that’s what a group of about 10 people were trying to do on the morning of 4th June. Despite all wearing the same Camp America t-shirt, it was proving a struggle for most of us until the gate. Suddenly a bunch of easygoing people in blue and white showed up and gradually became the biggest crowd in the room. That was when the summer really began. Everyone introduced themselves with great ease and we all began telling each other about our journeys down as if we were old friends.

Before I continue, regular readers of this blog will have noticed I’m behind on posts by about 4 months – having promised my next one in June. Sorry about that, but it isn’t without good reason. This is a travel blog, and with the exception of a single day in Chicago (which has its own separate article), I stayed very much in the same place for nearly three months. That said, summer camp is more than deserving of a post of its own since it has been an epic and life-changing experience. Let’s hope I can do it justice…

Camp is a special place. You’ll hear it from everyone who goes, or even knows someone who went. The atmosphere is unique, out in the woods, the nearest link to civilisation being a tiny farming town in southern Michigan. Arriving after 10pm following an extended day of travel meant that my bleary eyes didn’t really take in much to begin with. Forty or so camp counsellors stepped off the coach, some in familiar territory, others taking it all in for the first time, all of us lugging silly amounts of baggage into a large square wooden building, Bob’s Lodge, and shaking hands with the boss on the way in. A brief hello from the leadership team followed, then without further ado everyone grabbed their bags again and went to see what their accommodation for the next three months looked like. I was just happy to see a bed.

We didn’t get much by way of settling-in time as first thing in the morning we were whisked off to the first day of lifeguard training, compulsory for all waterfront staff. After four days of intense training we finally had a chance to explore camp and find out a bit more about what we would be doing for the next two months.

Lake of the Woods and Greenwoods are twin camps situated over the road from each other, catering to girls and boys respectively, age 7-15. Most of the children come from Jewish families in the suburbs of Chicago. They come to camp for between two and eight weeks each summer and take part in all kinds of activities throughout the day, like water skiing, horse riding, climbing, sailing and archery to name but a few. Evenings take on a different vibe, with evening programs such as campfires, themed dances, and the campers’ favourite: capture the flag.

Lake of the Woods itself is a small public lake in Michigan, about three hours west of Detroit. The camp owns a large stretch of the waterfront which is where I found myself during staff week, helping set up what would become a fantastic summer of sailing. A small bonus was that every morning I was treated to a beautiful sunrise over the water – if I was up on time!

Camp began for real the following Monday when I met my first-session campers for the first time. The following four weeks proceeded to pass by in a blur as I got to find out all kinds of things about my campers, take them on activities, and tell stories that I could see genuine fascination for. Working with three other counsellors certainly eased the workload but looking after these fourteen year old boys was simultaneously one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. I owe a lot to them for teaching me so many things and to the camp for providing the perfect environment.

This was all too quickly at an end, and after some surprisingly emotional goodbyes camp once again, briefly, returned to tranquillity. After a quick weekend in Chicago catching a break and helping load up the buses for the second session, we were at it again, another cabin of teenagers to keep out of as much harm as they managed to get themselves into. I could not have asked for a better group though, these boys were so positive and engaged that they were a pleasure to work with. So much so that an unfortunate injury that put me out of active work on activities for a week or so became a breeze to cope with, thanks to their help and support.

All of a sudden – that was it, one summer later I’d met more new people than I could count, done more new things than I could believe, and learned more about myself than I could have imagined. Life-changing experience is a term that gets bandied around too much these days, without real thought or intent behind it. I genuinely mean it when I say going to summer camp changed my life. I had an ulterior motive when I set out: at twenty-three years of age it’s was about time I decided exactly what to do with my life. Camp, somehow – among all the frantic running around, cheering and temper tantrums (from the kids, not me!) – somehow gave me exactly the space I needed to make that choice. For that, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to express enough gratitude.

Having made this decision and also begin to recover from my injury, I could enjoy family camp – where some of the kids and a lot of the parents come to Lake of the Woods to live the camp life for a week. The relaxed atmosphere permeating through the camp provided the perfect wind-down. A great end to a great summer. With the decision made to go into the super yacht industry it’s not clear to me whether I’ll ever have the chance to be at camp again, but if I do, I don’t think much will stop me having another run at it.

A Flurry of Activity

Time marches on. It always does, and this time it got the better of me. I’ve fallen out of the habit of posting regularly, and that left me with a large backlog of half-finished posts which are finally approaching ready. Over the next few days I’ll be releasing these one at a time for your pleasure. You can see that this cluster of posts reports from as long ago as June, right up to this week, and what I’m hoping is that this brings us properly up to date. Future posts can then come in at more regular intervals as I visit new places.

So if you enjoy the blog, keep reading – the next article is due tonight.

Home again

I don’t think it’s possible to say I’ve had enough of the Caribbean, however at some point in this gap year I have to stop to gather more funds. Since Camp America doesn’t start until the Summer I think this is a good opportunity. The blog won’t be getting such frequent updates, however with all the new and exciting work I’m hoping to be doing to fill the gap, you might see one or two spring up unexpectedly.

Thanks to all for following so far, and I’ll be back for certain in June.

Parlez vous français?

Another week of sailing – excellent!! Very unfortunately for him the other watch leader flew home early, so I was asked to stay on for an extra voyage. Suits me! Anyway, this week after the obligatory trip to Nelson’s Dockyard, we struck out south to the French islands. Guadeloupe was the first stop, a town at the northern end of the island called Deshaies. It’s beautiful, but my camera’s broken so I can’t show you. However Chris, the first mate, and I walked up the river Deshaies, taking a couple of snaps on the way.

The afternoon was very good, a pleasant and sunny motor sail down to Pigeon island (Another one, the settlers weren’t very original when it came to naming things). This little gem provides some of the best diving and snorkelling there is. The Jaques Cousteau national park is beautiful and the coral reefs around the island are full of amazing fish. A truly great spot. There is a superstition that if you touch the head o the submerged statue of Jaques you will have good diving for he rest of your life. I couldn’t find him…

We’ve sailed down to Les Iles De Saints, which is where you find me now, but in the spirit of keeping things short and sweet, I’m going to leave it here for now. It might also have something to do with the rest of the crew waiting for a lift back to the boat.

Something wicked this way comes

A great deal of idioms, phrases and sayings have maritime origins. Although originally a novel, the title of this post could well have been one of those. Night sailing is usually something I enjoy, however when you set out upwind into a force 6 and all you can see are murkier and gloomier skies, you know it’s going to be a difficult night. How difficult, we will come to later. First I’ll bring you up to speed with the week’s progress.

Antigua by day: Freshly squeezed

So the apparent writer’s block I’ve been suffering has made itself scarce and I have a glut of new experiences to tell you all about. So many, in fact, that I’m going to split it into two.