Sun, 12 Oct 2003

author Tim	location the 13:29 Perpignan to Port-Bou train, France
posted 14:09 CEST 15/10/03	section Europe2002/Europe/France/France 1 ( all photos )

Marseille, across Côte d'Azur to Nice ( No photos )
Shunning the not-included-at-HI-hostels breakfast, we shouldered packs early, having learnt that the bus we had taken to get there the day before didn't run on Sundays, and hence we would have to take another one.
We walked around the local soccer field where plenty of morning action was going on, interestingly with the spectators outside the fences. This bus-stop proved a little tricky to locate, but we did so on a side-street. Reading and understanding the maps and timetables proved to be almost impossible, so we just sat back and waited for a bus to arrive with the correct destination on the board.
Two more tickets got us back into the centre of town, and then it was back to the train station. After dumping our bags at the station for a ridiculous sum of money, we were quite naughty and fell for a Sunday morning McDonalds breakfast, tasting pretty much the same as it does back home.
Being France's second largest city doesn't really do much to change the fact that it is grotty and doesn't do much to hide that. We set off in search of the soul of the city, buried under kebab wrappers and all the rest of the rubbish. We headed first west along la Canebière, down directly towards the water. Strangely, as we did so, the city cleaned up its act just a little. I guess it is similar to leaving some parts of Redfern in Sydney.
Along quai des Belges at the end of Vieux Port, there was a fish market which paled in comparison to others we have spent time in such as Bergen. The fish were all fresh enough though, most being in buckets out the back, and prodded on the stands to show that they were still kicking. Not quite what we wanted to see to entice us into a purchase.
So, instead, we headed north to see a few interesting places with little time to do so before our annoyingly 'booked' train. We walked west along the north of Vieux Port, along quai du Port. Randomly choosing a side street, we turned north in search of adventure. I'm not sure we really found that, but this whole area, the Panier Quarter, was certainly quite different. Steep narrow streets were the order of the day, and although not quite immaculate, the area was much cleaner than we expected it to be.
Prices were high at most of the little shops, but at least they were open. We didn't grab anything to cook with there, instead just pushing through towards the station. We eventually hit boulevard des Dames, and followed this back east towards the station Gare St. Charles.
Massive roadworks made our progress slow and frequently we had to dodge into the middle of the road to get around. At least the French drivers try not to hit you, unlike the Italians did!
It was almost time for our train, so we trudged back up the huge staircase to the train station, where I went back to get our bags out of the lockers. In the second incident in recent times, there were four Australians giving us bad names in the locker room. If you insist in swearing your head off in foreign countries, at least do it without an Australian flag on your pack.

The much-slower-than-the-TGV train took us along the pretty coastline, weaving our way towards Monaco, the main famous part of which is Monte Carlo. First we had to change in Nice though, and we had an hour or two with nothing to do. We were hungry again, so split a pizza at a place near the station, one of the cheapest reliable eats we can find around the place.
We boarded the local train towards Monaco, which sits on a blurry line between a country and state of France. Technically its a Principality, but it's only 1.95km square so for most practical reasons it's part of France.
Whatever the case was, we got off the train there in the spiffy new train station, picked a random exit and set off in search of our hostel. The change from Marseille was absolute. Since the residents of Monaco pay no taxes, you can imagine that the rich all feature quite prominently. Ferraris and BMWs were all in evidence parked under/around the huge high-rise buildings with views over the sea.
Our exit from the station had been through a lift which took us high up the hill, so at least our search for the hostel was all downhill from there. After a few wrong turns, we found ourselves outside the right building. Only the demolition company's sign, the huge crane overhead and the rubble all around did not bode well. Checking the sign above the building confirmed that we had infact found Centre de la Jeunesse Princesse Stèphanie, but it appeared that the Princess had long since deserted the place.
We threw our bags down to have a think about this. Here we were, in one of the world's most expensive cities, with the only cheap place to stay boarded up. We checked a couple of times, but it seems that the entry in our February 2003 Lonely Planet is somewhat out of date. Infact, for the city, they show the train station in the right place, but the hostel description is relative to the old train station, now nothing but a shell!
So, we did what any budget travellers not prepared to pay 85 euros for the next cheapest option would do - we trudged back to the train to get back to Nice. We could have asked the Tourist Information if there were any other places, but they were all closed - both offices.

All this finding accommodation stuff was getting to us, so we rang ahead and booked a room in Nice in what was actually a hotel, although which strangely had a double bed in a dorm room, Hôtel Belle Meunière. We laughed away the hour or so we had to wait for a train back thinking that the place we were about to travel through might sound like a pile of manure, but at least they answered the phone.
It turned out to be right near the station, and a great little place too. France and Spain seem to have a number of hotels where they do dorm rooms, or even proper double rooms for very cheap prices. Just not so in Monaco.
One thing the place didn't have was a kitchen, so it was off to our third take-away meal for the day, not very good at all really. At least we push for cheap stuff, which in some cases is less than the cost of cooking. We located a kebab shop (a bit harder task than it was in Marseille, but not much) and grabbed some food, which we wanted to eat on the beach washed down with a beer. Three of the local lads thought it would be amusing to throw their pistachio nut shells at us as we waited for our food - we glared and said 'Pardon' but only got laughs in return.
When I went into a shop to grab a beer to take with us, it turned out that one of the shell-throwers was running the store. I made it quite clear that he wasn't going to get any money off me, put the beer back and off we went. Stupid idiot.
We found a drink somewhere else (cheaper!), and capped off our dinner with a nice long walk along the beach front. The beach was only about 1km from our hotel, and was covered in 1-3 inch stones, not quite the sand we have back home! Still, they were rounded and quite easy to walk along. Our walk back went via some of the centre of town, blundering our way along but generally having a ball exploring the city.
Arriving not too late, we didn't wake up our room-mate in the single bed (we had a double, remember), Hayley from the US.

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