Goodbye to Nice

​Sat-Tue, March 29-31, 2026 — Nice France

After three full busy days, Sunday was a slow morning and, for me, time to start thinking about getting back home. First up was getting the bikes pulled apart and packed into their cardboard boxes. Fortunately, that was nothing four or five hours of work couldn’t take care of.

Fiat 500

Another beautiful day: Nice and the Promenade des Anglais

Packing up the bikes

With a quarter of our group/band missing (Bob and Angie deserted us on Monday morning for a few days in grand Paris) we spent our last full day together in Monaco. We actually missed Pope Leo by a day. He was apparently in this wealthy enclave appealing to the “haves” for donations for the “have nots.” Spring has definitely “sprung,” as they say, so we mostly just walked around enjoying the beautiful weather — blue skies, flowers in bloom — took in the sites and, of course, had a nice lunch.

Pope Leo!

The two smallest countries: Monaco & Vatican City

Monaco

Main port in Monaco

Before heading out to Monaco, because the door to the street of our apartment building is locked, we ended up just hauling our bike boxes onto the walking street, Rue de France. Yes, I suppose someone could have walked off with them, but they would have to be bold and would have to work at it a bit given the size and weight of the boxes. Plus, we tend to be pretty trusting. 

Homeward bound

As we walked back up to the apartment around 6PM, after a fun day away, as expected, the bikes boxes were gone. We joked that this was either good news (UPS picked them up) or bad news (someone else took them!) Once we entered the lobby, however, the third possibility occurred: someone had done us a favor (probably thinking the boxes had just been delivered) and moved them inside! Doh! As it was already 6:00, we had clearly missed our 12-4PM pickup window

I was a bit stressed about this, but fortunately the shipping company (Bike Flights) was able to reschedule the pickup. In the end, however, we found a UPS drop off point a half mile away, so Meg and I just lugged the boxes there, one at a time to avoid any other mishaps. Easy peasy. 

Rue de France

UPS drop off

With the bikes taken care and our carry one bags packed, we said goodbye to 8 Rue de France.  On the way to the airport, we had a very nice interaction with a couple of other tram riders. Meg realized she still had 9 trips on our transit card, so asked the woman nearby if she would like to have it. She was a little confused with what we actually wanted, so a man nearby tried to help. Once he understood, he was happy to take the card and asked where we were from. Surprisingly, when I said we were from the US, the woman responded by saying how much she likes the States and wanted to know where we lived. She, in fact, knew exactly where San Jose was because her son lives in Mountain View and works in Sunnyvale! Then, we learned that the man had gone to school at San Jose State and had run track! What a small world, indeed. The most heart warming part this all was that despite the war, the tariffs, and all the crazy things happening, they seemed to have no problem separating the people (us, in this case) from the government (Trump). We, of course, made it clear that we’re not fans of Trump, we’re against the war, etc., etc. They we simply very kind and warm, and if anything, sympathetic!  

On the way to the airport

Having now spent more than two months in France, one thing that’s become clear is that we Americans seem to have access to way more “stuff” than the French or probably most Europeans. We also seem to benefit from the economies of scale that go along with our giant appetite for said stuff. Of course, I think there are plenty of other aspects of French / European life that counterbalance that. However, I bought a tube of SPF30 chapstick the other day and was surprised when it rung up at more than ten bucks! Hmm, maybe that was a particularly high-end brand?  

$10 chapstick 

Also, I wanted to update my prescription sunglasses, so I thought I might do that before getting back home. The first store I stopped at only worked with a lens maker in Paris and therefore couldn’t work with the cheap Costco frames I have. The next place didn’t have any problem with the frames; they just needed the frame and prescription details. Before ordering the new lenses, though, I just needed to choose among three different progressive lens types, each with slightly different peripheral vision clarity. To replace the lenses would be… wait for it… 700 euros… for each lens! That’s $1600! The woman explained that everything is made in France (and the cheeper option would only be $1100!) Wow. Maybe I would have found a much better price at the third shop, but I’m pretty sure I spent no where near that much at home (and without insurance). Perhaps everyone in France has insurance. I guess I’ll just wait to get the new lenses when I’m back home.

So long, France