La Vie Niçoise

I need more days like this one. I'd only really experienced it one other time, in the mountains near St. Tropez, amidst the clouds and fog on a hilltop, above the rest of the world.

Silence, stillness, and the exhilarating feeling of self-awareness. No bustle, no day-to-day worries.

Just me.

--

It was 4pm, and I'd just finished speaking with the minister for about an hour. We talked about my worries about my faith. How can I know there is a God? Why is the bible trustworthy? Will I ever find someone to share my life with? When?

He answered all my questions, patiently and kindly. I ended with a satisfied feeling, like I'd just ate a 3-course meal of split pea soup, du magret de canard and a fluffy chocolate mousse. Hearty and fulfilling, and definitely not McDonalds-greasy. I cried as he prayed for me at the end.

When he left the office, I sat thinking with my elbows on the desk. A rustle of wind startled me out of my thoughts. Hmm, there are no windows in this office...

It'd come from the right of me, and I turned to see a small mesh air vent leading outdoors... the sudden breeze had knocked some papers out of place. My eyes landed on a 3-fold green and blue leaflet that had been tossed onto the desk, face up, turned towards me. Huh. Out of all of the papers to get blown towards me. It read:

"Don't Lose Hope"

Okay.

---

I left the chapel with my Ipod set on the "Classical" playlist. Usually this is where I walk home, past the groups of racaille traipsing around the gare preying on young tourist girls. I crossed the street and slowed as I came up to a Ligne D'Azur bus shelter. Suddenly I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, just like on the mountain near St. Tropez. I peered up at the transit map, pondering my options, as a bus pulled up next to me. Oh, what the heck. I turned around and boarded, whatever bus it was.

It was the 4, and it was going North. Good.

--

I'd always wanted to visit the mountains behind Nice. There's an observatory, a white dome I'd seen perched atop the forested hills, tucked away from everything. I sat on the bus with my hands folded on my lap, listening to Beethoven, watching intently out the window as the bus left the familiar world of downtown Nice. The hills surrounding the city grew bigger and closer, and soon I was at the edge of Nice proper, at the foot of the mountain slopes. The observatory was in sight. High. Up.

The sun was setting.

I disembarked near the end of the line, and looked around me. It was getting dark, but I still, I couldn't shake that odd wanting to get away from civilization to meditate alone. Unfortunately, it was Sunday, and no busses would be heading towards the observatory any time soon. Should I just cross the street and take a bus back the way I came? I spotted some stairs in the general direction of "up the hill," and made my decision.

It was decidedly creepy. Dark. Brittle dry leaves crunched under my steps and rustled in the wind as I made my way towards nowhere in particular. The stairway opened onto a wide alley winding up the hillside, spotted with yellow lamps and lined with cars. No. No civilization. Higher.

So many cats.

A couple times I wondered if I was trespassing on private property. It was too dark to tell, but meh. I climbed, taking random streets and railed passageways. No one in sight for a while. Better. I looked over my shoulder. The lights of Nice, I could see them now from above. This is good.

Finally, a clearing. Yes! A place I could sit in silence with my thoughts. I crouched and surveyed the view.


To my right, a small building, ancient-looking like all the others in Nice. How cool... but something was odd about it. It was topped with a cross.

A knot in my stomach. I slowly lowered my gaze and let my eyes adjust to the darkness below. More crosses. Headstones. Oh my God.

I'm alone, in the dark. Overlooking a cemetary.

--

To make a long story short, I continued walking for about 3 more hours, with just a couple stops: one to buy a Marguerite pizza and a 1 litre San Pellegrino and eat it on a roadside bench. Yeah, I forgot to ask them to slice it, and was thus reduced to the tear-and-roll procedure. Rawr, I should know by now... (Although the Korean tissue package came in handy!)

At one point during my delusions, I'd considered staying for the night at a 49 euro/night quaint hillside hotel, but the signed indicated "Hotel Complet". So I walked around to the back of their balcony and took a picture instead.

Enfin, I didn't really fulfill my goal, hey? I guess I'll need to go on a non-Sunday.