We were debating sticking around in Nice for another night, and going to hang out in Cannes today, but we decided to push onto Italy. It’s so great to be back (was here with the family about 7 years ago, and it is still one of my favorite places to this day). Hopped a few trains to get to from Nice, to a small town called Finale Ligure, which is about and hour and a half away from Monaco (which we drove through on the train, but it was all through a tunnel. So we saw just about NONE of it. Haha).
We didn’t know anything about Finale coming in from the train. Which, to me, seems to kind of be the beauty of it. It’s refreshing to be away from the giant big cities, and to be going some place that’s not in the travel books.
Got a nice hotel with a balcony that overlooks the Mediterranean. Beautiful. Went out to a cute little local farmer’s market that was right across the street from our hotel. Bought some wine, and the best kumquats and strawberries I’ve ever eaten.
Went walking on the beach a little bit. Went to sit down on a bench to rest my feet. I must not have been there for more than 20 seconds, and some old Italian lady walks up and starts talking to me. I kindly told her that I don’t speak Italian. Just English and Spanish. But we somehow managed to have a little conversation. She asked me my name, and then sat down and continued sewing some nice little handkerchief that she had been working on. She said that she used it when she prayed. I talked to her a bit in Spanish, hoping she would understand. She seemed to. Lots of similar words between Spanish and Italian.
Tonight for dinner: Pesto pasta, of COURSE. (And bites of my parents’ fantastic pizzas that they ordered). Delicious!