The grandes soldes (big sale) at les Galleries Laffayette was a bust pour moi. It was similar to a sale in any other department store with bins of items thrown together at greatly reduced prices. People were tugging here and there, so you really don’t want to purchase anything that’s been stretched several ways because they wouldn’t be your size anymore. Roy went home, while I stayed awhile to see if I can salvage the day and get a really good deal. Well I didn’t – ended up away from the crazy crowd and buying a pair of boots at the original price. I can’t justify my action, except to say that it was of exquisite leather, fashioned in a well-ventilated atelier in Italy, perhaps by a guy named Salvatorre. Plus, I really need them. šš¢š¢š
Since we’re on the subject of Italy, just want to give a very brief history: In the very old days, Nice used to be part of Italy- through various wars and treaties, Italy ceded Nice to France. Consequently, much of the Italian influence still lingers to this day. Ravioli was invented here according to folklore, and Garibaldi stands in his majesty in one of the largest squares in the city. Some street signs are in both French and Italian (old Roman) languages. Pizzerias are so conspicuous, you would have thought you’ve landed in Naples. French purists hate that.
So it was at Voglio’s, a fine Italian brasserie at Cours Selaya, that we found ourselves seated at a table next to Yohan Cabaye and his family. If you don’t know Yohan Cabaye, no need to fret. We didn’t either. He’s a good-looking guy, lean and muscular, the type who works out for a living. I told Roy he must be an athlete or in that line of work because he put away a huge platter of antipasti and a coccotte of baked ziti with no trouble at all. Yet he doesn’t have an ounce of fat in his body. People were coming to get their pictures taken with him, so I finally asked our server who he was – server rolled his eyes and said “That’s Yohan Cabaye.” And I said who? Then he looked at me like I was on his last nerve and huffed, “He’s a football (soccer) player with the French National Team! Well, excusez moi! You will be so proud of me, Anna- I didn’t grovel.
Some good places pour un bon repas:
Voglio’s, as I mentioned earlier, has great mixed grill of seafood. Depending on the catch, if squid is included in the mix, Roy swoons. The antipasti platter is really good, but you need at least 4 people to share, no doggie bags.
Le Tire Bouchon is a new find – as the name suggests ( corkscrew), it specializes in fine wine. Genteel atmosphere, cassoulet maison from Maman’s recipe
HanGout – It could be pronounced either hangout, which will be unfortunate, or an-goo, which will be French. They like to play with words. Very close to the apartment- one left turn from our door, another quick left, then you stumble right into it. It’s a new restaurant with a Japanese chef, so the cuisine is French with an Asian flair. We met Takayuki, the chef, who’s a very pleasant young man. The duck breast was marvelous as was the pot-a-feu!
Some market stalls on a slow day
Carmelita Travels 
Love the markets, (drool, drool)! All most heaven.
Donna