Full time traveler and part time gin lover with a penchant for bagels and writing out my problems and travels. Whichever order they come in. / MEL to LDN.

Apr 28, 2016

Nice was nice

This past (when I started writing this post… I’m actually pathetic, it was a fortnight ago) weekend was my first inter-continental trip abroad, and it was everything that it needed to be. I slept in past 8am — TWICE (miracle in itself), I ate gelato for dinner and pizza for lunch (both days) and had zero responsibilities beyond working out what I wanted to eat and do for the day. It was freaking great. This was my 20th birthday present from my grandparents, a weekend spent in Nice with my favourite Aussie-Philipino duo.

Although I hate to begin with the weather, I HAVE TO BEGIN WITH THE WEATHER. 18 degrees, sunny, not a cloud in the never-ending blue sky, and I was able to wear my mediterranean-esque white pants and a t-shirt and feel the sun on my skin for the first time in months. I think I almost got a tan, although any improvement on my skin tone of snowy white is classed as a ‘tan’.

Nice is everything you’d expect from a seaside historical French town, and more. The buildings, the small lanes, the food, the people — many of the reasons why I love France. Yes, the French can be arrogant but you have to admit, they have style.

So began my journey on Easyjet, and a sneaky snapchat to kick the journey off.

It seems that wherever I go in Europe, it’s a new tradition for McDonald’s to be the first and commemorative meal. I mean it’s even in the bio of the blog, for goodness sakes. I don’t think my love for McDonald’s could ever be underestimated.

Onto Day 1, Saturday morning and the beaches of Nice. And my much loved Poppy wearing a ridiculous AFL cap in a country where absolutely no body has any idea what it means.

Can we just take a moment to appreciate this view? oh, yeah and Nice in the background. #sorry 😏 #loveyoself

Selfies with Nana Flor at lunch, and no I’m not asian, she was adopted.

These crepes were absolutely incredible, and we went back there every day for an afternoon snack. Probably the reason why we never ate dinner, but hey. At least it’s cheaper.

It was so lovely to be able to spend some time with my grandparents, but it has made me miss my family that much more. I was doing fine before I saw them, not like I wasn’t missing them, but when you’ve got so much to be doing in such a busy and bustling city — it’s easy to distract yourself. Slowing down, sitting for hours in a cafe just chatting about life really is when you start to think of those parts of you that you miss.

I miss sitting with my family on any given, nondescript Wednesday night, being in the kitchen cooking dinner with mum and talking about work, love, life. I miss sitting with them watching and laughing at ridiculous TV shows and indulging in our family tradition of watching Sherlock and discussing every single plot twist and turn throughout. I miss my family incredibly, and in this past week, I’ve really had to remind myself why I’m here, doing what I’m doing. I could be at home, cozy, living the dream in Melbourne. But I wouldn’t be living MY dream; London.

A sunny afternoon near the Place Garibaldi, Nice (yes, I’m always that photogenic)

People trick you into thinking that going after what you want will always be easy, simple, fun. Because it’s what you want in life, you’ll get there with just enough perseverance, just enough push and it’ll happen. Fate will take over, or, I don’t know. God.

If this blog is anything, it’s here to break that perception. Realizing your dream is hard. It’s fucking hard.

To get here, I had to fight with all my might. I had to save, I had to work my ass off and I had to plan so that I wouldn’t fail drastically. While I’ve been here, not absolutely everything has gone exactly to plan, and I’ve had to do damage control on those bits and work around them to continue to make it happen. I’m 4 months in, and I’ve already had to remind myself why I’m here and not to get comfortable. So, it’s not easy. But boy, is it worth it.

I know that when I finally settle down (whether that be in the UK, or Australia or wherever else I end up) I will have felt like I have lived. I will have awesome stories to share with my kids, lessons to teach them about life and an everlasting love of travel that will somewhat have been satisfied until my kids turn old enough for me to rejuvenate my old travel bag of tricks and show them the world. Just like my mum. I want to create a third generation of traveling kids and continue the lineage that my mum passed onto me. A lineage of knowledge rather than intelligence, a deep love of culture the world over and open-mindedness to accept these foreign cultures. All things that could never be taught in a classroom. My classroom? The world.