Hello Mediterranean, so long France [7/22 - 7/23; Menton, Nice & Antibes]

It was an easy 40mi stroll along the French Riviera from Menton to Nice. Pretty views of the sea, endless hotels, beach umbrellas & lounge chairs and development all along the way made for an odd day on the bike. Passing by the Monte Carlo casinos and Monaco high rises was fun mostly because there is a network of tunnels to pass through- reminded me of riding in the underground of Chicago back in the day.

When I got to Nice, it was packed with traffic and beach-goers and a little overwhelming. I learned at the Tourist Info office that the nearest campgrounds are 15mi further west in Antibes, so I kept heading on west in faint hopes of finding a beach side campsite. There were none. Just like a portable version of everything else gluttonous and sorta slimy along the Riviera, the campgrounds were jam packed with RVs and not too near the water. Alas, as I headed uphill to one of 'em, the sky opened up to a serious downpour. Luckily I'd just stopped into a little market to grab some snacks and a cold drink, so I waited it out under the awning.... for two hours. I didn't really have anything to do since I was killing this day waiting for the bike shops to open on Monday and deal with my busted rack situation, but it was still a drag.

After the rain let up and I got to the campground, things didn't get any better. I had to pay 15euros to set my tent on a muddy spot next to the lounge and listened to a TV blaring French movies into the night. I'll never get used to French campgrounds.

In the morning I packed up eager to get the front racks figured out. I popped into a McDonalds on the way back to Nice to double check some maps online. In France you can always get free WiFi at McDonalds- a nice perk but then you have to be at a McDonalds (not my ideal place to chill out, and I still have not eaten their food in over 12 years!) But in French McDonalds, you get an espresso in a real ceramic cup!

I decided my best bet for the rack was a chain bikeshop called CultureVelo (which also happens to be open Mondays, unlike most smaller shops) but it was about 8mi northwest of Nice in the commercial big-box mayhem. Not a fun ride, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do. They didn't stock front racks (does anyone??) but I decided I could reverse-mount a rear rack to fix the instability problem, and it only set me back 30euros. From there it was a little further to a Home Depot style place to procure additional washers, bolts, hose clamps and zip ties to mount everything together, followed by a visit to the most sprawling supermarket I've ever been inside to restock my food supply. These big stores are such a pain- you save a few bucks but the time it takes to navigate them is simply not worth it.

By the time I handled all my chores and doubled back through the congestion into Nice, I made my way to the Port to see about my next adventure: hopping on a ferry to the island of Corsica. I'd missed the last boat of the day but bought a ticket for the morning, looked up hostels online and made a race to the nearest one across town. To my surprise and relief, they had beds available and I felt like everything was finally getting settled. I had my rack fix, had my ferry ticket and a fun place to sleep that's not a muddy campground 15mi away.

the hybrid front/rear rack combo

Early the next morning I had a pleasant sunrise spin through downtown Nice back to the port to catch my morning ferry to Corsica. This leg of the trip came about pretty randomly: at the campground in Allemont after riding the Alpe d'Huez, I'd met a nice Swiss guy who was in town for a national downhill MTB race. He'd done quite a bit of touring before he started a family, and after hearing my plans he suggested that instead of riding the boring & congested Riviera into Italy, I should think about taking the ferry to see Corsica, then taking another ferry to Italy. Sounded like a good enough idea; I like boats, I like islands, and I didn't know much about Corsica besides that it is beautiful and has mountains. It's a win win win. And 6 hours on the water was just right, made especially pleasant by the fellow loner French girl I spent a majority of it with.

goodbye, France