Well, I ain't in the Ritz, that's for sure!

Just arrived in Nice. They wouldn't sell me a ticket for the 13.50 train, so I had to wait around another two hours for the next one. A little bit of panic when they didn't show the platform number until the last minute, but I made it. There were very few in my car, so I wonder how busy the earlier train really was. Anyhow I was able to move around and get a window seat, the idea occurring to me that I could use the video camera to get a kind of high speed dolly shot like Stan Brakhage. Unfortunately every time, and I mean every time, I saw something to shoot and got the cam working a wall or hill or something would get in the way. I would turn off the camera in disgust and then almost invariably the view or one as good would appear again. This game of hide and seek annoyed the hell out of me. However, I remember feeling a little shock of happiness when I saw mountains in the distance, not the Alps, but real mountains nonetheless.
Then as we neared the South we passed pink apartment buildings, dilapidated and uninviting, but shining in the sun nevertheless. And then I got a glimpse of the sea, on the other side of the train, but glorious to me. It was dark by the time we started to go through San Tropez, Cannes, etc.. What was really nice was getting off the train into very perceptibly warm air and a station filled with palm trees. Nice.
Told you I'd get to Cannes!
The hotel, which is very near the station, a bad sign usually, but the write-ups were good is staffed by a jovial old guy. He told me to go up and get comfortable before coming down to pay him. I think I am in the "old wing". Grotty is not quite the word. Funnily enough though, it's as big as my Paris hotel and it has everything including the kitchen sink (and a microwave oven, fridge, etc.). Even a bit of a balcony. Hell, it's only for three days and it's pretty cheap, and I'm in Nice!