Dinner With The Tutors in St Laurent du Var

After the glorious tea of gelato and other soaking up the warm Nice sun, we rushed back to Pythagore (Jun's residence in Sophia-Antipolis) to change into something spiffy before heading to St. Laurent du Var for dinner with their tutors. This year being their last summer in Nice (for some), mini-parties and get-togethers were mandatory. Most will be leaving for Engineering Schools in other parts of the country, beefing up their academic qualifications with an MEng or MSc along with the diplome from the polytechnique.

Their teachers chose this restaurant by the beach with a very quaint dining setting. Al Fresco and by that they managed to maximise this dining experience with the cool sea breeze and of course the starry Nice sky. Stars dotted the skies in Nice. It could be one of those 'the grass is greener on the other side' syndrome but then again, Nice is considerable darker than Singapore in the night considering the lack of big cargo haulers cruising along the straits, shining their huge spot lights, street lamps and other light-emitting objects also make Singapore considerable brighter in the night reducing the ability to gaze at the stars. Let me finish, their tutors chose this restaurant because it was in close proximity to one of the tutor's yacht.

Truth be told, dinner was less than satisfying. Each person forked about 12euros which was about S$24 for 2 slices of pizza and a few refills of Coke. That was it. No lavish cuts of meats, no endless buffet of seafood, there wasn't even a buffet of salad. Talk about being ripped off.


Dinner was dismal but the company again was sensational. We played a game of 'If you had a French name, what would it be' and we were made to memorise all their French names and we took turns guessing and second guessing. For some reason or another, Bichet came to mind when it was my turn to pick names. Their tutors however objected, saying Bichet was a last name and I had to pick another. So I began to recollect, Bichet Benoit was our climbing rival from Lycee Francais Singapour. I haven't got time to lose so I began to think of another name and Michel Platini came to mind so voila, I was Michel for that night.


Before I get tired, I should pepper this entry with pictures of dinner.

After more rounds of drinks, we were brought over to the Marina where we'd see one of the tutors yacht. I wasn't really interested in the yacht, I was more occupied with finishing my conversation on cars with Farid. We were going on and on about the V10s and the W16s, from Maseratis to Protons and even Perodua and not to mention my trusty old 92' Mitsubishi Lancer which I wrecked (that's for another story).

But I was there to see the yacht and so, I will. Her yacht was far from spartan. a deck the can fit 8 people seated and a captain steering. The lower deck was fully furnished. 2 rooms to that can fit 2 couples. A stove and a siting area which I believe serves the purpose of a living room.


And there you have it, her boat. It looks much bigger in person. Too bad I didn't get pictures of her lower deck. Side note, this teacher was initially intending to ship the boat up to Cherbourg in Northern France and then cross the English Channel and dock in England for a short holiday. Unforeseen circumstances prevented them from doing so.

After dinner, we were still dead hungry from the lack of food, so some of us (Babe, Rauny, Syikin, Jun and myself) went to McDonald's for some late night supper. We drove down to Antibes where the 24hr McD was. The funny thing about this McD was that only the drive thru operated through the night, so we parked our car and did a 'walk thru', ordering food through the drive through but on our feet. Another funny thing was most of the menu was sold out! 24hours and sold out! I can't imagine. We quickly gobbled our food and head for home. But no, it was 1 in the morning and we passed Antibes Land! This amusement park in Antibes. The child in us decided to emerge for the night but was quickly suppressed and we only did a walk round before going back to the car and back to the apartment.

Tomorrow, Cannes - made famous by the Film Festival

Vieux Nice is nice

After a night of gut stuffing action, I slept and woke up bright and early. 8am to be exact. In the summer, the sun's out very early in the morning, 4am. To quash every ounce of pre-excitement jitters, I stood in the balcony and started taking scenery and the flowers from the balcony. To further relieve myself of all sort of laziness, I started a regime of push-ups in the balcony which typically and true enough lasted for a day, that day.

The itinerary for that day was Vieux Nice. A cache for all things rustic and bohemian. I was seriously hoping that it wasn't just another tourist trap which was chock-full of tacky I Heart NY, or Singapore is a FINE city, or any other smart-mouthed, trying-too-hard to be catchy t-shirt which screams tasteless. So i crossed my fingers and prayed.

I closed my eyes and went into deep thought in the car and when I opened I somehow, in some weird disruption of the time-space continuum managed to teleport into this warm and aromatic Greek restaurant which was located close to the Gare or train station. No we were not served naked men with washboard abs or women in togas that exposed their left breast, but instead by a pleasant lady who redefines the meaning of punk. Rauny was here before and he took helm. We ordered the meal with alot of meat and I for one was jubilant. Meat!

First came the appetizers which was typically eaten with pita and we were typical people so we ate typically with typical pita.


There you have it, a smorgasbord of an appetizer. All sorts of both savoury and unsavoury chutnies, dips, creams, yoghurt and a cheese-filled samosa. Initially, I was a little bit disappointed. I was thinking, we gave you the responsibility and you valiantly captained this ship and now you're feeding us like grubby sailors with yoghurt and bread. Boy, was I displeased but I sucked up all courage and gobbled like a grubby sailor suffering from scurvy.

Suddenly, all I heard was a voila and I was astound.

Meat cuts and meat types of all shapes and sizes. I see lamb shanks, lamb on a skewer, grilled chicken on a bed of tomato rice, skewered chicken pieces, more lamb on couscous. Boy was I in paradise. This was what I was looking for, the meats in France.

That was a little digression and I should get on with the monologuing of my trip.

I have never been to that many countries with restored old towns nor have I traveled much for that matter, but one step into Vieux Nice and I was astonished. Astonished by its sheer beauty as a district. Nice is a little city in the South of France and acts as a haven for big wigs and hot shot moguls deciding to leave the fast pace of the city and seek solace in a quiet and more forgiving environment. It shies away from the bigger and more cosmopolitan cities and thus retains that old world charm. Its typical European and by that I mean southern French, Provencal architecture was something to gawk at. The bohemian culture that bites you at first glance was something that you cannot experience by reading a book nor looking at pictures. The feeling was like shopping in a large Sunday market (but only cleaner and less smelly compared to those wet markets in Bedok) among happy people enjoying the sun during the peak of the summer holidays.

The cobblestone roads and and the narrow streets transported you to, like what many gamers would say, cs_italy Yes, that very famous Counter-Strike map we used to glue ourselves to the monitor during our teenage years.

I couldn't help but take a few pictures.


The sights was something to brag about but the company was undeniable enjoyable. After roaming aimlessly soaking up the sights, we caught up with Farah and Farid or Smaap which he is affectionately called by his peers for some gelato.

Gelato stands in Nice were abound. Every street corner and at every turn, you would catch a glimpse of a happily-ran gelato stand. It was a Mecca for the soaring summer temperatures in Nice. It was required by any soul who needed to seek comfort away from the blazing temperatures of the summer sun. It was pure hedonism on my part. I was or rather I am a gelato buff. Back in Singapore, on every Tuesday, I would try my very best to make use of that 50% off for waffles at Gelare. Aside from that, we picked Fennochio for it was THE gelato stand and the rest was just run-of-the-mill.

Fennochio on the left in Vieux Nice! and for dessert..


Voila, 8 flavours in a bowl.

Next, the dinner date under the stars in St. Laurent Du Var.

Finally Europe

Little did I realise my dream of going to Europe would manifest. I was able to save a bundle minimising expenses during lunch and tea break during my short but fruitful stint with CPF. Parents promised me some money for the trip as a 21st Birthday Gift and I gladly accepted their expense. Up until today, a week since I since I returned from my final destination, London, I still remember vividly the days I spent in Nice, Cannes, Paris, Amsterdam, Den Bosch, Eze and the other little suburbs of the French Rivera. Problem is, I wouldn't know when this memories will last and all that remains would be stills from my trusty Panasonic. All that remains would be a file with 741 photos, label-less and caption-less.

The first step I took onto Europe was at Heathrow Terminal 4. I was navigating through barriers and gantries finding my way to Terminal 1 where I would be taking a connecting British Airways flight to Nice. Heathrow was a far cry from the sane organisation in Changi Airport. Everything was in a mess. All you could do was follow signs that led you around corners and sometimes they were less than conspicuous. Lines and queues were at every counter and disgruntled passengers made my brief experience in Heathrow less than pleasurable.

After maneuvering for what seemed eternity. I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 1 after a slow shuttle bus ride. I had a 3 hours to spare before my flight leaves so I bought a smoked salmon sandwich and a bottle of mineral water from Pret-A-Manger. London was the home for everything expensive. The total damage for a common and less than satisfactory sandwich breakfast came up to a little over £5. Translating that into Singapore dollars, that would set me back S$15. S$15 for a simple breakfast was unheard of by my standards but I was left with no choice in Heathrow. This was considered the most reasonable deal I could get. My other options included gourmet smoked salmon and caviar at the seafood bar. I can't complain.

Three hours seemed like eternity with nothing to do but staring at a screen that would in due time show you your flight details. The problem with Heathrow airport and other airports in Europe would be their inefficiency. In Changi Airport, you would know your gate almost immediately, once you've collected your boarding pass 2hours before your flight. In Heathrow and for that matter Orly and CDG in Paris, you would only know which gate your flight leaves afew minutes before your flight leaves. If you knew 5min beforehand, you had to make a desperate sprint to the other side of the terminal just to catch your gate before it closes. It was super inefficient and unorganised.

Okay so I caught my connecting flight after several short naps and walks along the departure lounge and was excited to be crossing borders and finally the French Rivera.

I arrived at Cote d'Azur Nice International Airport at approximately 1pm and was pleasantly greeted by Jun. Little did I realise, her friend had agreed to pick me up from the airport and I could return to her airport in the comfort of a car. I was introduced to her friend Rauny who was also an international student studying in Nice and was from the island nation of Tahiti. Our first stop was a little Italian restaurant in Biot called Toscana. Quaint and very Mediterranean themed interior, I was spellbound by the warm French attitude. I heard so many horror stories of snobbish French folks who wouldn't take a second glance at an Asian or for that matter anyone else. I was pleasantly surprised when the couple beside our table started opening little conversation with both Jun and Rauny. I was still lost not knowing anything French but I played along.

After a hearty lunch, we went back to her apartment in Sophia-Antipolis where I can finally unpack and hand out gifts and little goodies from Singapore. Her apartment was far from spartan. For what its worth (and mind you it was worth quite a bit), it had a stove a private toilet or toilettes, a study table and of course a bed. But what sets her apartment room apart from others I've seen was the amount of food! Food glorious food. Open any cupboard near the stove and you would be greeted with all sorts of mixes, ingredients and goodies that tantalise the taste buds.

Almost immediately, her friends were enjoying a BBQ party organised for their French teacher. So again, I was fed like a king with burger patties, grilled chickens and of course pasta soup. My first day and already so much food. I was thrilled and couldn't wait for the second day to begin where the fun would begin!