The travel fatigue has set in for me. When the alarm went off this morning for Charles and I to get up and go to Monaco, I could hardly wake myself up. Even after a cup of coffee, I dragged along (clutching my purse) to the tram station and then from the tram to the train station. On the train, I struggled to stay awake as the train rhythmically rolled along to Monaco. We found our seats in the stands to watch the morning practice round for the Formula 1 Grand Prix. The sun this morning was nice and warm and the air was cool. This combination along with the loud sounds from the car engines was pretty cathartic (anyone who has dozed off to the sounds of a Formula 1 race on TV early on a Sunday morning will know what I mean), but fortunately there was just enough excitement from cars running off the track at the turn in front of us to keep me awake (don’t worry – all of them were able to take advantage the run off area and didn’t actually wreck).

After the practice round ended, Charles and I headed up the hill to the palace and Old Town, where we grabbed a quick lunch  of sandwiches and pizza (and Monaco beer) in Old Town Monaco. After lunch, we took a tour of the Oceanographic Museum and Aquarium. The aquarium was founded by Prince Albert I but directed by Jacques Cousteau for many years. After the aquarium, we toured the royal palace. The palace reminded me quite a bit of Versailles outside of Paris, though not quite as grand.

Between our tours of the aquarium and the palace museum, it started to rain. We both had rain gear with us, fortunately. Several teenagers laughed at me as I dug my bright red poncho out of my purse and put it on. In Japan, I was still easily enough embarrassed to care. Five years and a few international trips later, I value physical comfort over pride. It’s not like the locals don’t pick us out as tourists within 10 seconds, anyway. “Where’s the dang SORTIE in this place?”

After we finished the palace tour, Charles took some pictures of the track from the top of the hill and we walked back down the hill to the train station just in time to catch a train back to Nice. Once in Nice, we headed back to the tram station and THIS TIME I was determined not to have my pockets picked. As far as I know, I left the tram with all of the items I possessed when I got to the tram station.

Charles and I took a bit of a rest and headed back out for dinner. Nice is so close to Italy that Italian cuisine is a pretty big part of the culture, so we had dinner at an Italian restaurant in Old Town. Charles had pizza and I had seafood farfalle, both of which were very good. As per our tradition, we stopped for gelato on the way back to our apartment.

In Paris, my small bladder turned out to be an excellent tour guide, as it happened to land us in the cafe in which the movie Amelie was filmed (I needed a restroom, so we stopped and bought coffee so that I could use the restroom… and found ourselves in Cafe des Deux Moulins). However, this was not the case for me in Nice. Since our apartment is right above the gelato stand, I ran up quickly to use the restroom, while Charles waited outside. In the time I took to go upstairs and come back down, Charles ran into the instructor from yesterday’s cooking lesson and Rick Steves. For those that don’t know, Rick Steves is a popular travel journalist who wrote the travel guide we happen to be carrying with us (thanks to Leah and Joe).

When I came back downstairs, Charles told me all about the celebrity meeting I had just missed. Rosa had introduced him to Rick Steves, who asked him all about his experience with our cooking lessons! I ran back upstairs to grab our book, but unfortunately, Rick had already moved on. Then, I did something I’m not proud of… I forced my husband to help me stalk Rick Steves. It was kind of like this…

We did see him a few blocks later… but the timing just wasn’t right to stop him for an autograph. SO… while we were out, we checked out the cathedral here in Old Town (which may have been the most beautiful we’ve seen in the Riviera thus far) and then Charles gloated the whole way back to our apartment.