Woo, housing!

Nice, the “Miami of France”. I am currently at the Ville St. Exupery in Nice, a world-renowned hostel, claimed to be one of the world’s Top 10 hostels. It’s definitely crazy here, like a party scene every night inside the hostel, with 1Euro beers from vending machines and a bar open til about 1am. The first night I got here, I walked out of the train station and down towards an internet café, where I called home for quite a bit of time, freaking out about the whole trip. It’s possible to feel homesick if you haven’t been home for two months, and the four or so days at home were basically spent trying to recover from jetlag. Traveling without having any plans is definitely harder than it seems, especially because a lot of time is spent trying to find the cheapest places to stay and the cheapest ways to get there. The stress of being unsure about all this information, in addition to the quasi-home sick feeling, all topped off with doing everything alone has been harder to deal with then I imagined.
This hostel has been good in some senses and bad in others. All of the people here are mostly friendly. There’s that feel of solidarity among the backpackers, and stuff is just about safe, and it’s fun if you’re into that party scene, but… there might be a little too much emphasis on the partying as it’s loud into the wee hours of the night, and I dunno, there’s more of that “you’re pretty, I’m pretty, let’s talk” culture, which I am not too fond of.
After the internet café phone calls, I used the internet to book a room in the hostel and headed over. I took the tram to where the hostel picks you up, hoping to find une cabine telephonique there, but because they just put in this tram, there are no more. So I panicked and headed back towards the internet café, stopping people along the way.
People in Nice are a lot nicer than the Parisians, in my opinion. The first man I asked, who was walking his dog, responded to my “Desolé de vous déranger” with a “Vous ne me dérangez pas!”. He, unfortunately, couldn’t help me. The next two women, a bit elderly, were classic. They not only helped me and made conversation with me while walking their pup, they walked me towards my destination and even made sure I had eaten! They were so kind, and watched me off the hill.
I climbed the hill of death to get to the address that I had saved on my phone, and then checked in to Party Central. I should try to meet people.
A bientot!
James

Nice, France