We decided to take the tender to shore and take a train to visit Nice. We followed instructions and walked along the shore looking for the steps up to the station, but we missed them because they were hidden behind vines. When we realized we had gone to far, we stopped at beach food vendor to ask for directions.
As soon as the shop owner heard us speak English, he brushed us off and ignored us. This was in stark contrast to the friendly people we had found in Marseille.
Eventually we found the steps and got up to the station, only to realize we had missed the train by seconds. We tried to buy tickets for the next train, only to be stymied by the lack of an English option on the machine (you'd think the French train stations would abide by the language requirements of the EU).
We eventually figured out how to buy tickets, but then we found that the machine only took coins, not bills, and would accept only French bank cards, not Visa or Mastercard. So Debbie walked back down the steps and across to the other side where they had a human-staffed ticket booth...only to find that we'd have to wait 90 minutes for the next train.
We were licked...we gave up on Nice and walked back to the tender and rode back to the ship where the buffet was free and the staff spoke English.
Oh well, a week later Lance Armstrong showed the French and everyone else by winning a sixth Tour de France.
A window in Villefranche (by Debbie) |
The houses of Villefranche (by Kelsey) |
Steps everywhere |
Dan on the Rocks (by Debbie) |
Debbie strolling through port |
The harbor |
The harbor (by Debbie) |
The Splendour of the Seas (by Debbie) |
The view from the train station |
Kelsey and her "Fortwo" |
Villefranche |
A tender returning from Villefranche |
Sunset at Villefranche |
Villefranche at night |