From Paris to Provence

by lcjonesla

If you enjoy leisure & wine, then you must take the train from Paris to Provence.

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Do not waste time flying around. No matter the distance, train life is the best life in France, especially when there is Rosé, scenic sunflowers, and business class.

Yes, I may be the duchess of coach, but on the train, I am Queen Giggles.

Let’s not forget when leisure turned into robbery TBT, but as long as you’re armed (with a baguette), you’re untouchable.

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We arrived at Marseille with one purpose. Pick up the Fiat and get to Antibes.

Allegedly, there were no Fiats avaialble at Hertz.

After another round of summoning, one appeared to be available.

Giggles gets what Giggles wants.

The rental care monsieur stared at Colossus II and said “are you sure?”

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To that we said, “oui” and realized what an error we had made.

Colossus II did not fit in the car. The only way we could get the suit case in, was by opening the top of the convertible and Jordan lifting it in like a crane.

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We started our drive down the cote d’azure excited for our next adventure.

I don’t know if I was expecting Positano or the Cinque Terre, but I got neither when we arrived to Juan Les Pins.

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Was it beautiful, yes. But I was not expecting to arrive at the French version of Mango Deck after a 6 hour travel day.

Le Petit Plage.

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I wanted a salad nicoise, and instead got blasting house music. Wasn’t Princess Grace roaming here at one time?

What was happening?

After inhaling an aperol spritz, we got back into the Fiat and arrived to our home base of Antibes.

It was more in line with the quaint vision, but holy tourist.

We arrived at our VRBO and it was perfection. An oasis if you will, from the back packs, fanny packs, and trucker hats in the square.

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We went to six different shops in the town to find chilled Rose, because without that, we would have spiraled.

After the sun set, the tourists dispersed, and the town itself became a bit more romantic.

However, the romance became a bit claustrophobic, when we decided to have dinner in “a cave.”

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It sounds romantic:  Eating dinner in candlelight, in an old cellar.

Yes, but when it was 90 degrees, and there are 25 people sitting together with no a/c, underground,  it is time for more chilled wine.

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I highly recommend staying at the VRBO, and making it a home base, but prepare for the bustle of Times Square Antibes.

We hopped to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat which was my version of Le Petite Plage.

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Gelato, soft waves, and a day bed. I was melting with every sip of Rosé.

Until demain,

Xo,

Gigglés

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Contemplated “losing” my passport